#he’s so fucking stupid I wanna punch his head until it actually works

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent

[zombholic]

MY KIND OF LOVE PT. 2 — abby anderson

summary — illegal boxing was never on your bucket list until your friend brought you to one.

description — poc fem!reader, illegal boxer!abby, reader has tattoos and a couple of piercings, mentions of drug usage, bidding, sexual themes, not for minors.

— 🥊　　 ◦ ✺ 　 🚩　 ⟢ —

After being humiliated in front of a crowd of strangers you decided to never listen to Jesse again. You were currently at work serving alcoholic beverages to customers when you heard a voice call out from afar, squinting your eyes you saw as your one and only friend appeared from the dim lights, his face was slowly recovering from the damage he took from a week ago.

“Jes, why are you here?” Your eyes shifted back to mixing up drinks and pouring shots.

“Listen, I’m sorry for forcing you to come to the match, I didn’t think she would touch you.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck, guilty was written all over his face, he was truly sorry.

“Sit down i’ll pour you a shot dumbass.” You grinned at him your eyes still not meeting his but you could feel the stupid kiddish smile he was pulling from his lips.

It was pretty slow today since it was a Sunday, you were leaning over the counter of the bar conversing with him when suddenly the shattering of glasses had you snapping your neck to the direction of the sound.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Why was Abby here— why is she fighting—

“It was an accident I didn’t purposely spill my fucking drink on you!” The smaller woman was quick to dodge Abby’s large fists trying to connect to her.

The quick instincts from the smaller purple haired girl was starting to piss off Abby, her every move was predictable every time she was going in for a swing. The smaller one throwing a fast punch to the muscular girl’s abdomen causing her to hurl over.

“Fucking bitch.” You could see the way her anger flushed her scarred face, she was beyond just the color red.

“I need to stop this—“ Jesse grabbed your arm.

“Do not get involved she will actually kill you Y/n.” He gave you a stern expression.

“Jes—“ Before you could finish your sentence you saw as Abby grabbed the girls head, slamming it against the brick wall relentlessly.

A couple of men the size of Abby ripped her away from the girl, blood covered the wall, the table, her hands. The poor girl was unconscious barely even able to tell if she was still breathing. Slipping away from Jesse you had quickly ran over to the bloodied girl sitting on your knees as you dialed for the ambulance.

“Did you fucking kill her?” Your brows pinched together as you looked up at Abby, whose expression alone made you fear for your life.

“I hope I fucking did.” She was fuming, her ears ringing, breathing uneven.

“God you’re actually mentally fucked up!” You shouted as you stood up and faced her.

Very brave stupid of you.

Abby could only force out a breathy laugh, she towered over you build and height wise. God you only met her one time and knew the type of person she was.

“You are fucking insufferable Abby.” Your finger jabbed at her chest.

She was quick to grab your wrist, her grip was tight so tight you knew you were going to bruise. She pinned you against the brick wall that she used to almost murder a girl, her other hand grabbing your jaw, squeezing your lips together.

“Watch your fucking mouth, don’t wanna end up like her do you?” She threatened, her face nearly inches away from you, you could feel her breath on your cheek.

“Abby, enough is enough.” A woman who obviously knew her pulled her away.

You rubbed your now swore wrist, your brow’s farrowing as your eyes never leaving her blue ones. Jesse quickly ran over to you, cupping your face in his hands making you look over to him.

“Let’s go home.” You nodded your head agreeing with him.

Laying on his couch in his amazing apartment you had placed a bag of frozen vegetables on your wrist, you were watching him play the new Modern Warfare game that you got him for his birthday a few weeks back.

“Is she known for almost murdering people?” Your question made him chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah she kinda does that a lot. Why do you think she’s always winning at all these matches.” He was focused on the game but still managed to answer your questions.

“Oh Jes, there’s a halloween party tomorrow, you’re coming with me.” You were now scrolling on your phone as your feet now laid on his lap.

“Couldn’t even give me a choice.” He grabbed your foot as he started tickling it.

“I will actually fucking kick your balls so hard your damn ancestors will feel it!” You screamed kicking your legs around.

— 🥊　　 ◦ ✺ 　 🚩　 ⟢ —

authors note — part 2 ON THE SAME DAAYYY?? WHO AM IIIII??

tag list — @whore4abby @atomicami @aouiaa @doepretty

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Sam Quotes

i love me some cowboy ♡ yeehaw and all that

“You’re a werewolf, not a damn tank, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I want you comfortable. What that looks like, you tell me.”

“Oh god, don’t call the 90’s vintage, you’re gonna give me a complex.”

“Don’t you whistle like that at me you smartmouth, this ain’t anything you haven’t seen. I am not blushing. I don’t blush.”

“Mr. Shaw.”

“You’re a big softie under it all too. Boop.”

“You don’t have to keep the armor up tonight. The fighting’s done. You can just rest. I got you, Darlin.”

“You’re my heart, Darlin’.”

“Oh you hush, of course that got my heart speeding up again. Wiseass.”

“Have some popcorn, it’ll soothe you.”

“Matter of fact, yes, I do know how to get food delivered nowadays. Do you know what the inside of a grocery store looks like?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m a mother-hen, what else is new?”

“Don’t worry, if the shock takes you out, I’ll be sure to catch you.”

“You feel like home, Darlin’.”

“It’s a Vamp’s favorite season. Well, my actual favorite season’s Fall, but you get me.”

“That’s for strangers. We can be as mean to family as we damn-well please.”

“How do you wanna do this? You wanna ride your cowb- you little-“

“You feel like sunlight on an easy day. That warmth and that comfort. Gentle and all around.”

“You like that? You gonna be good for me?”

“Hey. Look at me. Please.”

“Yeah, you’re awful put-upon. Your mate’s a heartless old curmudgeon who wants his arm rest.”

“No. No, I’m not falling asleep. Couldn’t be me. I’d never do such a thing.”

“Your vampiric pillow awaits.”

“Hey. Jokes aside. You do make sense, Darlin. Just cause some people don’t wanna put in the work to understand why doesn’t mean you don’t.”

“What the hell do you have against flannel? It’s efficient.”

“Oh I’m sure. My big bad wolf certainly would never get tired after a completely understandably draining day,”

“Tell me how you look so damn good right after waking up. Bullshit. You look heavenly.”

“You know better than me that if you don’t answer that goofball he’s just gonna keep calling.”

“Man’s gotta point. [smack] Ow.”

“Make it two.”

“I’m an equal opportunist shit-stirrer once you make the mistake of getting close to me.”

“You keep that up and I'll buy a walker just so I can beat your ass with it.”

“I didn’t realize those were our names, I thought he was drawing pictures…”

“Who you calling an underdog, pup?”

“Oh, so I’m a flop now?”

“Want some chocolate? It might soothe you.”

“Darlin’ what the hell is an Igglybump?”

“Play nice. I know you can even if you don’t like to.”

“Being so good for me. Wait until I tell ya.”

“So what if I am soft for you? You deserve soft.”

“I am not charming. I’m a moody curmudgeon, and I like it that way, thank you very much.”

“When I’m with you, my brain takes up shop in the wrong head.”

“Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.”

“I’ve got you. Tears aren’t ‘stupid’, Darlin’. They’re human. You don’t have to hold back any part of yourself with me.“

“[punch] That’s for Frederick. [punch] That’s for his Progeny. [punch] And that’s for me.”

“The only thing that makes the two of you worse hellions than you already are is when you put your scheming heads together on something.”

“I’m practically a glorified backpack”

“I want you moving like this in a different position. Mmhmm. How did you put it back in the day? ‘Riding your cowboy’?”

“You’re so damn beautiful. You are.”

“My big bad wolf. I get to say that without getting hit nowadays? My, the times are a-changing.”

“Look. You can call me every version of ‘cowboy’ you want, but you keep ‘duke’ just locked up in that pretty head of yours, you got it?”

“It’s a fancy dick-swinging contest with a side of hors d’oeuvres.”

“Vincent. You’re my family, and I love you, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but four years ago when he was still around, you were just as much of a pain in the ass to be around most of the time.”

“What you and me got is stronger than any of this bullshit the world throws at us. Even if the world’s got a hell of an arm, lately.”

“Brown. My eyes were brown.”

“Where do you want these fangs, baby?”

[mellybouboulove]

My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 4

Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapitre 5, Chapter 6, Chapitre 7

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs

CHAPTER 4

Monday morning: Ellie told me she had a lot of work today so she left early in the morning. After my encounter with Emily, I had set my mind to make things better, at least that’s what I was planning for today. I woke up with a severe stomach ache and migraine; my body begging me to take drugs but I tried to stay focused on my goal; I got ready and went to the hospital. Starting with Jonathan who’s in a coma will be easier than facing Emily who could punch me. 

Stepping into this hospital again made me feel weird but I knew I had to do it. I found my way to Jon’s room, the atmosphere was heavy which is weird considering it as filled with flowers and gifts. The only sounds in the room were the beeps of the machines and his artificially controlled breathing, all of this because of me. I sat next to him and started to talk. I felt stupid at first as I didn’t even know if there was a chance he could hear me but it actually did make me feel better to let it all out. I told him how sorry I was and how much I hoped he would get better; how I would’ve rather been in his place instead. I left flowers and a note on his bedside table hoping he would wake up in the following weeks and would be able to see it, knowing we kept him in our minds. 

I already felt relieved from this talk but I still had to give Emily a visit. My body was still shaking, my head and stomach were still hurting. I hope these symptoms will be gone soon enough. 

Once in Emily’s front door, I felt reluctant remembering everything that she told me this weekend. Leaving now would make me a selfish coward; I have to talk to her. I knocked and after a couple seconds she opened. Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw me, she was about to close the door at my face but I stopped it. 

-Please give me a chance to talk. I know, you were right. You were right about everything, I’ve been acting selfishly; I just wanna talk, please.

She let out a sigh, quietly opening the door for me to come. 

-May I use the bathroom first? I’m not feeling very well.  -You already know where it is. 

After refreshing my face in her bathroom to calm myself, I opened the pharmacy without thinking and noticed she had the same treatment as me. I contemplated it for a second and decided to empty the bottle in my pocket. Just in case. At this point, this is not a big deal, I've already wasted her life. 

We sat in her living room, a blank silence surrounding us until I decided to break it to tell her everything that was killing me inside. 

-I have no excuses for my behavior but believe it or not, you and Jonathan have both been on my mind everyday since that day. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for what I did to you. If I didn’t come earlier it was just because I was in a really bad place and didn’t think I would have the courage to face you knowing I ruined your life and almost killed my two best friends. I’m not expecting you to forgive me but I think we should communicate; I don’t want to cause any more harm to you. I really miss you and our friendship and if I could, I would switch places with you.  -Are you done now?  -Ugh, yes I guess. -Okay great now leave.  -What?   -Do you really think that’s how it works? Acting like a victim, giving a clingy monologue after all your bullshit thinking this is enough to fix everything ? You’re dead to me and I don't have anything to do with you. You didn’t come here for my forgiveness nor for the sake of our friendship; in fact, you don’t give a fuck about this. All you want is to make yourself look good, to make your conscience lighter, just to manage to look at yourself. If you really did care, you would’ve come earlier, you would’ve visited Jonathan and checked on me but you just disappeared. You were in a bad place when it came to facing your responsibilities but you felt good enough to find yourself a girlfriend to take on dates. You’re a horrible person Maya, you’re not even able to understand what you’ve done. Get the fuck out of my house, you can die for all I care.  

I was flabbergasted by her reaction, I didn’t expect her to forgive and forget nor for everything to come back to normal but I thought she would be more understanding and willing to save our friendship. But she’s right, it’s too late. I became somebody I don’t know, I’m just a worthless piece of shit who only cares about itself. I felt my heart pounding louder and louder, my breathing speeding up; I don’t have anyone anymore. I need drugs. 

Without even counting them, I took a handful of pills from my pocket as I was making my way back home. When I finally reached home, it felt like this was not enough. I looked around all my drawers and finally found a bottle of vodka that I quickly emptied. As I was about to swallow the last drops of alcohol, I heard the bell ringing and used the energy I had left to open it. Ellie was standing there, she looked at the bottle in my hand then she looked back at me. 

-What the fuck are you doing??  -I guess I’m.. n-not feeling so good.

Suddenly my eyelids felt so heavy and closed themselves; then everything was pitched black. When I opened my eyes again, I was on the couch, Ellie sitting next to me with a bunch of medicine, food and water on the table. 

-Are you awake? -Yes, I think so.  -Are you feeling better?  -Yes. -Ok good. Now tell me, what happened Maya? Why did you do this?  -There was nothing left to do. I couldn’t control myself anymore, I’m sorry. I said bursting into tears. -It’s fine, but you have to think and be more careful. This is not a game, if I wasn’t here to take care of you and give you pills you could’ve been dead by now. She was very gentle in her tone. I could tell she was worried.  -Wouldn’t have been so terrible to be honest.  -I was planning to go back to my house but I guess I’ll stay a little longer. Drink a lot of water. She handed me a bottle of water as she said that and I thanked her and drank it without further questions, then fell back asleep.

[wincestdailyheadcanons]

(Tw: noncon, knife play, drugging)

Wincest Unhinged #8 "You walk out that door, dont you ever come back!" John Winchester's voice echoed in his own head. Sam had always been the type to run away, and honestly, John had been the same way at that age, full of rage at his own father who had abandoned him.

'I never abandoned them, I've always been there.' He told himself. 'Sort of…'

John sighed, finishing his beer as the bartender called for last rounds. Maybe there was a chance he could catch up to Sam. He was sure he couldn't convince his youngest to come back, once he had made his mind up about something, that's all there was to it, but he could at least make sure they parted on better terms.

John drove back to the motel, cursing as he fumbled with the key, the light mist of rain clouding his vision as he tried to get the key into the door, and then finally opened the door, and stepped into darkness.

He could hear muffled crying.

'Shit' John thought. Dean had been a wreck since Sam had left, had yelled, thrown everything he could get his hands on, John was certain Dean was gonna throw a punch.

Maybe he deserved it.

John flipped on the overhead light, steeling himself to see his son, and instead saw a naked man tied to the bed Sam had been using the night before, a gag in his mouth.

The man, couldn't be older than 20, looked so much like Sam that John almost yelled out his youngest's name. He turned towards John, eyes wide with terror. He pulled at the restraints.

John tried to shush him, looking around for Dean while bringing his knife out to cut at the ropes. The man screamed into the gag at the sight of the knife, flinched as he was accidentally nicked.

"Fuck, hold still!" John growled, grabbing the man's arm. He felt something warm and wet on his fingers. Slowly he glanced down.

Carved into the guys flesh was a single word; Dean's.

John stumbled back, slamming into the wall, and this time, he actually looked at the scene before him. The bed was covered in blood, the smell of sex and cum in the air, and this guy, who looked exactly Sam, had Dean's name, his fucking claim carved into him atleast a dozen times.

"I didnt think you'd be back yet."

Before he could react to Dean's voice, something slammed into his head, and he was thrown into darkness.

He was tied to a chair. He knew it before he opened his eyes.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…" He could hear Dean's breathy moans. 

"Stop!" Another voice yelled; "Please…please I wanna go- ngh!" 

John's eyes flew open, watching as the man struggled under Dean, struggled as a wet rag was placed over his mouth and nose, until his eyes rolled back and closed, his whole body going limp on the bed.

"Shh…not going anywhere." Dean said. He looked at his father. "He's not going anywhere…" There was a warning in his voice.

"Dean." John spoke low, trying to not sound disgusted at what he was seeing; "Son, what are you doing?"

"Fucking my brother." 

John wondered if Dean had meant for it to sound like he was just asked a stupid question.

The man squirmed, as Dean gave a slow deep thrust, letting out a groan; "Fuck Sammy, always knew youd be tight." John tried not to pay too much attention to the filth Dean was saying as he was fucking, raping, his brother's look alike.

Dean was fucking insane, there was no doubt in John's mind, and maybe he was to blame for it. John had made Sam Dean's entire world, his purpose, and then had shattered it.

A wave of guilt and relief washed over him. "Knew you'd be tight.."

Dean hadn't fucked Sam. Hadn't done this to him. 

John Winchester had failed his sons, this was entirely his fault. Taking a deep breath, trying to work past the throb in his head, he worked at the knots.

Dean didnt seem to care one way or the other, the blade in his hand working on tender flesh as he carved. The man's body jerked instinctively at the pain.

"Good, so good." Dean crooned, kissing one of the cuts, his tongue swiping over it. "Gonna wake up with my cum dripping out of you, Sammy, gonna get you a nice plug, use you whenever I want…"

The man's eyes fluttered open, clouded and pained.

Dean kissed him; "There's my boy, my baby brother, love you so much…"

The man looked at John for help.

Finally, the rope gave, and John stumbled forward, catching himself, and straightening.

Silently, John picked up one of the guns off the table beside him, and pointed it at the man's head. "What's your name?" He asked.

"Collin…" He groaned, whimpering as Dean's pace quickened. "Please…please…"

"Wrong."

John grabbed the rag Dean had used before with his other hand, pushing it to Collin's mouth and nose, keeping the barrel of the gun against his skull. "Your name's Sam."

John knew he would burn for this, but at least he could keep the real Sam safe by letting Dean indulge into this sick fantasy.

But more importantly, he thought, as he checked into another room on the other side of the motel, maybe in a couple of days Dean would be ready to hunt again… 

[bellysoupset]

I know this has nothing to do with emeto but I'd like to request a fic1... Jonah comes home from a rough shift at the hospital and he's irritated and in a bad mood so he gets into an argument with Leo...

TW: death, but only as context for Jonah's behavior, if you don't wanna read that jump the first 3 paragraphs. Be warned, this one is a punch.

-

Don't get emotionally involved was one of the first things they learned in med school. There was a reason why first years were obligated to do 30 hours in palliative care. By then they weren't expected to do anything more complicated than shadow the head nurse, but the whole point was so they would get used to the concept of death.

Except you don't get used to that idea, or at least Jonah didn't, not when it was a 10 year old. His little patient had been a difficult case, so he wasn't exactly his, Dr. Peters - Jon's supervisor - was much more involved than normally. Still, Jonah did the majority of the visits and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't invested in the boy's well being.

Then they had lost him, halfway through a seizure. Jonah had clocked out shortly after, Dr. Peters telling him to go home, but instead Jonah had spent a good hour gagging over the toilet, until he was completely empty.

The drive home was a blur, Jonah felt completely disconnected from his body, mind still back in the hospital. He wasn't sure what time it was anymore, nor did he care. He just wanted to sleep this horrible day off and hopefully be able to get back to work tomorrow and actually help someone... Save someone...

"Oh there he is," Leo's voice brought him back to the present. Leo's furious voice.

"What?" Jonah kicked the door shut and stripped off his coat by the door, frowning at his boyfriend. He wasn't even expecting him to be in the apartment, Leo had been spending a lot more time in his dorm, since graduation was coming at a fast pace and he had a lot of work to hand in.

"I've been texting you," Leo scoffed, crossing his arms. Jonah didn't have the energy to grab his phone and check. He left it muted during work so he could hear the pager and he hadn't been bothered to check all day.

"Uhm," Jonah yawned, rubbing his eye, "whatever for?"

"Really Jon?" Leo sounded hurt, "look at me."

He forced himself to look and frowned. Leo looked fine, "you look fine... I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

"Wow," Leo raised his eyebrows, blue eyes sparkling, "we had a date tonight, remember? In that stupid fancy place you like? I sat there for nearly two hours waiting for you!"

So that was what he meant, Jonah cringed, noticing Leo was indeed wearing formal clothes.

"Oh shit... I forgot, I'm sorry-"

"I work in the afternoon and I have two different papers to hand in tomorrow and you said you wanted to see me, so I went to the date instead of finishing my papers... Look at me!"

Jonah hadn't realized he had looked away or tuned him out, he just... He didn't feel well. He was emotionally drained and he felt sick and hollow.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face, "but tone down the histrionics, will you? You have 90% of all your work done, you're just a perfectionist."

Way to go, he thought sarcastically as his words made Leo flinch as if he had been slapped.

"It doesn't fucking matter if I have 90% done or 0% done, the point is I made time for you and you fucking ditched me in a restaurant," Leo glared at him, "and now you're acting like an entitled prick."

"Okay Leo," Jonah rolled his eyes, his head throbbing and at this point he'd trade anything for just some fucking peace, "okay. I'm sorry, you're right, you're perfect, as always, can I go the fuck to sleep now?"

"You're a dick," Leo sighed, looking defeated. Jonah shrugged, even if he was feeling more and more like he was about to keel over, queasiness washing over him.

"Okay Leo," he repeated through his teeth, eyes burning, "are you leaving now?" his voice broke at the last syllable. Leo's presence had been a surprise and the fight far from how he had picture ending his night, but he didn't want his boyfriend gone.

Jonah felt horrible, actually physically sick, and he wanted nothing more than to just go to bed, with Leo. If he could just keep his mouth shut, then-

"You're not even gonna explain yourself?" Leo asked in a small voice, "really? You don't care at all?"

"I do care," Jonah shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I do care, I just got caught up in work and- and-" and a kid had died in his hands.

"And?"

"I just wanna go to sleep," it sounded less like a fight now, more like begging. Leo frowned at him and took a step back, further in the apartment, not out. Jonah stumbled forward, towards the bedroom.

"Jonah, what the fuck?" Leo sighed, following him into the suite, "this isn't you, just talk with me-"

He changed directions in the bedroom, instead of sitting on the bed, Jonah staggered into the bathroom, bracing against the sink and opening the register. He splashed his face with water, but it didn't do much to the sticky, claustrophobic sensation. He still smelt like disinfectant, it was making his stomach churn.

"Really? Silent treatment now?" Leo scoffed, somewhere behind him, "you're acting like a child."

Jonah groaned, then gagged over the bowl as the comment refreshened his memory. He heaved, loudly, interrupting Leo, but the dramatic retch only brought up a little dribble of bile.

There was a ringing in his ears, which sounded a lot like someone crying and it took Jonah a whole minute of panting over the bowl to realize it was him. He whimpered, lowering his forehead to the cold stone, feeling Leo's hand in the middle of his back.

"Why didn't you say you were sick?" Leo questioned, squeezing his shoulder, "Jon, shhh... What's hurting? Is this a migraine?"

He didn't suffer with migraines, never had in his life. Jonah shook his head, still bracing against the sink. Despite feeling painfully empty, his stomach was still sloshing uncomfortably, "I'm not- I'm not in pain and I'm not sick."

Behind him Leo let out a snort, "yeah, you just threw up randomly and -"

"Not..." Jonah shook his head, "stress. That's all. I'm fine," he forced himself to straighten up and meet Leo's eyes in the mirror. His boyfriend looked concerned, even if there was a hint of annoyance in his face still.

"You're fine?" Leo echoed, skeptical, "Jonah, you're crying."

"I just need to sleep, that's all," he rubbed his temples, wiping away the tears that were clinging to his lashes.

"Yeah, sure..." Leo frowned, moving out of the way so Jon could walk past him. He stood near the bed as Jonah struggled to undo the buttons of his shirt and quickly gave up, tugging it up.

"Uhm, I think I'm going to go then-"

Jon paused, looking at him, "Leo," his voice simply seemed not to be working suddenly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I stood you up, it's just..." he couldn't say it, couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, so instead Jonah gulped against the knot in his throat and said, "can... can you stay? Please?" his voice all but melted at the end, as more tears sprung forward and Leo immediately nodded.

"Yes, of course..." he sounded extremely concerned, but for the moment Leo decided against pressing the issue. Instead he sat down on the bed too, before throwing his arms around Jon and pulling him into a tight hug.

It was the tipping point, because then Jonah lost all control and buried his face on his boyfriend's shoulder, sobbing.

His chest hurt and he couldn't stop thinking about the kid... It was only partially guilt over not having been able to do more, most of it was just plain, simple sadness.

Leo's hand cupped his nape and his cheek pressed against Jonah's temple, "shhh love, I'm here," he whispered, "you're alright."

It was so silly and yet it sent another sob through him, causing Jon to cling painfully to Leo's shirt, wrinkling it in his fist, "I'm s-sorry-I-"

"Breathe, Jon," Leo didn't let him go, if anything he squeezed him tighter, "just breathe in, babe."

It took forever, Jon felt like, for the tears to stop and the sobs to calm down. He felt utterly empty and his head was throbbing like hell, exhaustion weighting down his eyes, but he knew he at least owed Leo an explanation after breaking down on him so badly.

He leaned his head back against the headboard, hugging his knees to his chest, "sorry," his voice sounded like he had just gargled with glass, "sorry about this."

"For crying!?" Leo said incredulously, reaching over to touch his knee and stop the light rocking that Jon was doing, "can you tell me what happened?"

Jon nodded, but didn't say anything. Instead he just stared at Leo, exhausted and then, all in one breath, mumbled, "in the morning?"

"Okay..." Leo nodded, more and more worried, "okay, in the morning."

He got up from the bed and calmly stripped down his own clothes, changing into a large hoodie and just his boxers, then circled the bed and took Jon's hands in his, ushering him up so he could at least get rid of the pants Jon had worn all day.

That was all he managed to do before his boyfriend curled up under the blankets, so unlike himself and Leo was left with no option but lie down too. He rolled onto his side, stroking Jonah's cheek. It was wet again, but he was no longer sniffling and sobbing.

"C'mere," Leo sighed, pulling Jon to him. He wrapped him up in a hug and then closed his eyes. Leo's mind was going a mile a minute and despite several minutes passing in the dark, he knew Jonah wasn't asleep.

Eventually he felt his boyfriend move, letting out a long sigh, "I lost a patient today."

"Aw-"

"Jesse, he was 10. He liked my sneakers that have the pride flag. He - He liked the mutants and I talked with him about X-Men evolution, the cartoons and he binged the episodes on youtube and was so excited and-" his voice collapsed under the weight of the tears and Leo hugged him a little tighter.

"I'm so sorry, Jon," he whispered, kissing his cheek, "I'm sorry."

"It's just not fair, that's all," Jonah whispered, hot tears running down the bridge of his nose and Leo's neck, "it's not fair, Leo."

"I know, I know, it's not fair, my love," Leo nodded, kissing his brow.

[shyphonics]

Salad Days Chapter 5: We Are The One

This chapter is certified 18+™ for smut and light mental health crisis (we've all been there... right?)

I'm sorry if I'm rusty lol. Also, I made a tag list! Let me know if you want in :) this is looking like it's gonna be pretty long.

one | two | three | four

It’s your turn for soundcheck now, and… Jesus, you’re actually nervous. It’s been forever since you’ve been nervous.

You’ve played The Strike every week for about a year now, slowly creeping your way from dead Monday shows, to decent Thursday shows, to electric weekend shows.

You’ve worked your ass off to move from the merch table spot in the dark, at the edge of the dance floor, to one of the spots under the lights and the AC unit.

You know every person here, at least by face, and they know you. Either from the band or the bar. Except for Rodrick and his friends, that is.

You’ve never headlined before, though, and something about your first time is making you shaky.

So, here you stand, face to face with yourself in the bathroom mirror. Jessica, your lead guitar, is against the wall, cool as can be in her vinyl pants. She blows out a long puff of smoke, and fluffs out her short, green hair with one hand.

“We’re gonna be fine. It’s like any other night.”

But it’s not like any other night, not to you.

Is it Rodrick? Are you trying to impress him? That’d be really fucking stupid. You don’t do what you do to impress people.

That, and you’re pretty sure he’d be impressed no matter what you do.

But…

You don't quite know what's happening to you, whether it's how good he’d looked on stage, or the feelings that overcame you when that douchebag sucker-punched him.

Maybe it's a combination of both.

On stage, he'd been sexy and self-assured. Playing those drums like it was nothing. Making your heart flutter with a wink and a smile, like you were a dumb lovestruck teenager at her first concert again.

After that guy had hit him… he got vulnerable. He'd looked so sad, defeated almost. Hurt, not just physically, but emotionally. It made you wonder if those two had a history. It made you want to latch onto him and make him all better.

It seems like Rodrick, whether he’s aware of it or not, knows just where to hit to take down your walls.

“We gotta go,” Maureen pops her head into the restroom.

You push your little emotional breakthrough back in and take a deep breath.

This isn't the time for that.

You climb the side steps, as you have a hundred times, and start fighting audio cables until everything looks right.

Pink cord goes from amp to overdrive pedal. Black cord goes from tuning pedal to bass.

Fuck. Is that even right? You don’t know anymore.

Low notes come from your amp, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone else is all set up, and you look around. It’s time.

Soundcheck is quick. Too quick. You adjust your setlist with your foot, and stretch out your fingers.

Eddie pushes his glasses up and gives you a thumbs up.

You just gotta start, and then you’ll be fine.

“Hey fuckers!” Your voice comes out more powerful than you'd expected, “We’re The Shrieks!”

The crowd comes alive. Deep breaths.

The lights are up, the crowd is buzzing and you- wow. You're glowing. You look so confident and fucking cool, all lit up in gold stage lights.

Rodrick watches as you and your bandmates give each other a nod.

A note rings out. A second. A third. A fourth.

The song explodes, and Rodrick’s mouth falls open. You’re hopping, and shaking your hair out, really hyping yourself up.

Then you open your lips. Rodrick is enamored. No high school crush he ever had could compare to how he feels right now. He gives in to the movement of the crowd, and it feels like being in the ocean. Bodies all moving as one.

There’s a smile on his face that just won’t go away. He’s never been to a show quite like this.

He holds on to the front of the stage just to watch you, taking in the absolute power you’re giving off. Trying his best to read your lips and hear every word.

I am the one who brings you the future

I am the one who buries your past

A new species, I come from the ruins

I am the one that was made to last

We are not Jesus (Christ!)

Oh, no, we are not fascist (pigs!)

Oh, no we are not capitalist (industrialists!)

Oh, no, we are not communists

We are the one

We are the one

We are the one

We are the one

The party’s still going, even after everyone has shuffled out and the doors are locked. Mike has commandeered the sound booth and is playing “some shit from the good old days.”

You're up in the storage loft above the stage, wrapping up cables and boxing up mics. You close a tackle box full of neatly rolled cords and notice Rodrick down by the stage.

You sit and just watch him for a minute, trying to figure out if your bathroom mirror crisis was just pre-show jitters.

He looks like he's looking for you, craning his neck around and slowly spinning in place.

He's just such a dork.

You’re not sure if you can even be snarky with him anymore.

It's been a really long time since you had a crush on someone. Especially one like this. You're used to being in control, giving no more of yourself than you want to. For all you know, when you get down there, you'll be giggling like an idiot at his mercy.

Pull yourself together.

“I love this song,” you drop down from the storage loft, hopping off the stage, landing in front of Rodrick. Trying to play it cool.

He jumps when you appear, a smile spreading across his face.

“You were amazing.” He sighs.

“Back at you,” you restrain yourself from grinning.

You're still buzzing with adrenaline, and it spurs you on to try something. You step forward, and clasp your arms behind his neck.

His eyes widen, but after some hesitation, he brings his hands to your waist. The two of you begin to sway, a little uncoordinated, to the music. You look up into his eyes. He looks nervous, but a small smile is beginning to form on his face.

Your giddiness starts to fade away, and you feel a little more in control of yourself.

“Did you go to your prom?” You ask.

“Hell no,” Rodrick scoffs, “Did you?”

“I didn't even graduate,” you laugh, “so no. But it explains why we're kinda bad at this.”

“I don't think we're that bad,” He attempts to spin you. You both break out in a fit of giggles as your back hits his chest and you recenter.

“I wanna do that, like, every weekend forever.” He sighs.

“That's not a hard ask. I can show you some of the other venues when I'm free. You guys will be working the circuit in no time.” You look up at him.

Rodrick’s smile is so genuine. He looks completely content.

The world disappears around you as you get lost in the song, swaying and spinning, staring into each other's eyes. You've never been so glad to have taken a chance on someone.

“How's your lip?” You ask.

“It's okay,”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

You hesitate, then lean upwards, testing the water.

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and he leans down to meet your lips.

The kiss is warm and familiar, all traces of awkwardness are gone. It feels like you know each other. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and pulls away.

“So am I allowed to like you now?” His voice is lower than before. He holds you close to him, one arm tight across your lower back.

“You feel like you could pass a field sobriety test?” You smirk.

“Yeah?” Rodrick raises an eyebrow.

“Okay. You're allowed.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes, and leans in to kiss you again, but you both quickly turn to the sound of someone clearing their throat. It's one of his bandmates, the blonde one. He's avoiding looking at either of you.

“Hey, Rodrick, uh, you two…” He clears his throat again, “The other bands invited us out to eat, and we were gonna go… but it looks like you're busy.”

Rodrick blinks at you, “Are you gonna go?”

“Yeah, let's go. You should get some carbs in you. Soak up all that booze, or you're gonna have a bad morning.” You detach from him, and walk towards the back door.

Your car is parked right next to their van, and Rodrick looks like he's hesitating getting in with his friends. You roll your window down and raise your eyebrow at him.

“Do you… wanna ride with me?”

He looks surprised, “Can I?”

“Yeah, get in.” You lean over and pop the door open, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He bounces into your passenger seat, beaming.

“You know where to go, right?” You shout into the van. Rodrick’s friends give you a thumbs up.

You roll the window up, and pull out of the parking lot.

Rodrick is drumming on his knees to a song playing in your car. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and smile a little. You think of the day you met him, all pent up energy and rock n roll, baby!

Big, dumb dog.

He moves a hand to your thigh and continues drumming the rhythm. You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. His eyes are locked on your thigh as it bounces to the beat.

You pull up outside the old Waffle House, and it looks like you're the first to make it.

“Let's wait,” you sigh, leaning back, turning up the music.

His hand stills on your thigh. You close your eyes, honestly exhausted from the show.

His hand moves upward to rest in the crook of your hip, and the corner of your mouth curls up. You turn your head to look at him.

“What're you doin’?”

“Nothing,” he says, trying to sound inconspicuous.

Rodrick’s heart is going a mile a minute. He'd been so confident back at the bar, but here, with you, just you, he’s freaking out a little.

He studies your face in the glow of an orange street light. Your eyes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He wants every feature burned into his memory forever. His hand is warm against your hip. You put your hand over his and he smiles.

“What, did you get scared or something?” You smirk.

“No…” Rodrick lies.

You kiss him again, and he melts into it. He slips one hand into the back of your hair and pulls you closer. You maneuver over the center console to get in his lap, and he breathes out deeply. The kiss gets messy, like all the energy of the night is coming out between your lips. Your hands are shaking. One rests on Rodrick’s shoulder, the other in his hair, and you make a noise as he bites your lip lightly.

“Sorry, is that okay?” He whispers.

You pull him in, and bite him back harder.

He groans, and his hold on your waist tightens.

He's snaking a hand under the hem of your shirt, when there's a tentative knock on the window. You pull away from each other.

“God dammit!” Rodrick pants.

It's Ward, with a hand over his mouth, feigning being scandalized.

“Oooooooh,” he taunts, when you're both out of the car, “I knew it.”

You roll your eyes, and keep the door open with your foot as the guys pour in. People from the show are everywhere, this is a decently common occurrence. You find a seat between your band and Rodrick’s at the bar. Maureen, your drummer, offers you a fist bump, and leans into your ear.

“He's cute,” she whispers, “did you drive here with him?”

You nod, suppressing a goofy grin.

“Do you think you're gonna…?”

You shrug.

“Up to him,” you whisper back.

The waitress, a blonde with a buzz cut and a face full of piercings, greets you by name, and asks, “Usual?”

Once your orders are in, Rodrick puts his hand securely on your thigh.

“Do you guys come here a lot?”

“Oh yeah, at least every weekend,” you lower your voice, “That's Jeanine, she's our regular. Then Martin and Rosie, who have worked here since the beginning of time. Then there's Carla. She's new. Last weekend, she and Martin were fighting because she kept getting orders wrong.”

He narrows his eyes and looks at each person you point at.

“Do you just come here to eavesdrop?” he asks quietly, suppressing a laugh.

“It's fascinating. Just watch.”

The two of you eat in silence and observe the inner workings of Waffle House.

Rodrick nudges you as Carla scrapes a plate into the trash, and Martin yells, Dammit, Carla! Chunked and covered! Not scattered!

Carla throws her apron to the floor and flips him off with both hands. Fuck you, old man!

“Oh shit,” you whisper.

“Damn,” Rodrick turns to look at you.

As your eyes meet, and the bell on the door jingles aggressively, you can't hold in your laughter anymore.

"He's such an asshole." Rodrick whispers, giggling in disbelief. Does every diner job just suck ass?

"I know, this Waffle House is under a dictatorship," you laugh

You both calm down, and end up just staring at each other.

“Rodrick, I don't wanna be too… forward, but…” you trail off.

His face goes blank.

“Do you wanna… get out of here? With me?”

Rodrick drops his fork, and snatches his tab off the counter.

“Yes,” his voice is feverish.

You follow behind him, and wave goodbye to everyone on your way out.

You'll absolutely get teased for this later on, but who gives a fuck?

Now, I've drunk a lot of wine and I'm feeling fine

Gotta race some cat to bed

Oh, is there concrete all around?

Or is it in my head?

Rodrick’s hands are on you the moment you shut your front door.

He backs you up against it, bringing his lips to yours once again. His lips creep down to your jaw, then your neck. Then he's on his knees, pushing the hem of your shirt up, kissing your stomach, your hip bones.

Your hands are in his hair, stroking and tugging.

“I don't know what it is about you,” Rodrick murmurs between kisses, “I just knew, I had to…”

“Me too,” you laugh a little, “I'm not usually this easy.”

He grins deviously up at you, undoing your bottoms.

“So you don't bring someone home like this after every show?” He gives your waist a little bite.

“No, god, no,” you chuckle, “this should be too fast, but something about this, you just feel right."

“Why me?” He pauses, looking up at you.

“You're just,” you look down at him. His dark doe eyes drill into yours, plump lips slightly open. You feel his hot breath on you, and it sends a shiver up your spine, “Jesus, you're just fucking hot. And you're not, like, an asshole about it. You could've taken any girl in that bar home tonight.”

“I wanted you,” his lips twitch, and without hesitation, he lifts you up, and sets you back down on your kitchen counter. He plants soft kisses on your thighs, and pauses to look up at you. It makes your head cloudy.

“Can I try something?” His voice is breathy.

You're still recovering from the shock of being lifted like that.

“Yeah,” you say, in slight disbelief, looking down at him.

He plants a kiss on your panties, and then removes them completely. You heartbeat skyrockets.

“I might be kinda bad, but… I've always wanted to try.”

You watch him gaze over your wetness. You truly cannot believe what's happening right now. He looks lustful, but focused, like he's trying to form a plan. Then without warning, he just dives in.

You hadn't expected much from him, but damn, he knows what he's doing. A shocked moan leaves your lips.

Your body feels electric as he snakes his tongue through your folds, finding all the places that make you whimper. He grunts, and you practically feel it reverberate through your whole body. You wrap your legs around his head and pull him closer. His tongue circles your clit and you throw your head back. His plush lips cover so much ground as he gives you a light suck.

“You sure you've never done this before?” Your weak voice teases him.

He pulls away with a pop, making you shudder.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, “I’ve just thought about it a lot.”

“Well, you're doing fucking great.”

He gives you a sly grin and goes back in.

Your back starts to arch as he flicks, and sucks, and swirls his tongue. Your moans mix with his soft grunts and you realize you're starting to come undone. You grab a handful of his hair and roll your hips.

“Keep going,” you gasp, “I-I’m…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours and that does it. Your body jolts, and you squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm rattles through you, the counter cool against your body.

He slows his actions, and comes to rest on your thigh again.

When you're recovered, you sit up, and put your hands on his shoulders. You kiss him hard, tasting yourself, and feel a new arousal awaken in you.

“Was that really okay?” His eyes plead with you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You pant, holding his face in your hands, and he looks bashful, “Best I've ever had.”

You hop down from the counter.

“Your turn.”

“Are you sure?” He stutters.

You take him by the hand, and lead him across the small apartment to your bed.

Rodrick’s breath is shaky as he leans against the edge.

“Take your shirt off,” you tell him, and he does.

His eyes are hazy with lust, and he grunts when you kiss him. You run your hands over his chest. The muscles in his core are tight, and you can feel his heartbeat. Hard and fast.

You kneel, and your hands find the tight bulge in his jeans. He bites his lip as you unbuckle his belt and free him from his boxers.

It's a good length, fairly weighty, and he groans when you take it in your hands. You look up into his eyes and lightly roll your tongue over the tip. His knees buckle, and he sits back on your bed. You chuckle and scoot closer, steadying yourself between his legs.

“So… safe to assume you've never done this either?”

You fit him further into your mouth, trying to wet as much as you can.

“One time… almost,” he says, labored, “we were in a car and the cops knocked on the window.”

“Fuckin’ pigs,” you shake your head, then take him in as far as you can get him.

He lets out a long, low noise. You grasp the rest of his length with your hand and pump lightly. His thigh shakes under your other hand as you swirl your tongue.

You catch his eye and come up for air, licking him from base to tip. His eyes roll back, and you laugh.

“Should I keep going, or is this gonna take you out of commission?” You tease.

“Please… keep going,” Rodrick breathes.

His mind is foggy as he feels himself enter your mouth again. He can't even process what he's feeling, all he knows is he never wants it to stop. He doesn't feel in control of his own body. His hands desperately search for a grip on your comforter as you bob your head.

He tries his best to focus, to keep his eyes on you, but he feels something in himself start to slip. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, barely keeping himself up on his elbows. His legs tremble as he feels himself hit your throat and he lets out a long moan.

Then your mouth is gone, and he opens his eyes, desperate for the feeling to come back.

You crawl on top of him and straddle him.

“Scoot back,” you murmur, and he obliges.

You lean down to kiss him, and his hands come to rest gently in your hair.

Something still feels weird in his head. He doesn't think he's drunk anymore, but even the low light of your apartment feels too bright. His ears are ringing, maybe still from the noise of the bar. He feels his heart start to beat out of his chest, and he holds on to you for dear life.

It feels like he's dreaming, but maybe as long as his hands are on you, he'll be okay.

You're saying something. The words don't quite reach him, but he nods anyway. Eager for something to pull him back into reality.

A little voice in the back of his head is hissing. He tries to blow it off, but it's persistent, fighting him.

You don't deserve this.

Fuck his stupid brain. He wants to be present with you. He wants to hold onto every little second of this, keep it forever. It feels like you're far, far away from him, even as he watches you take your shirt off and feels your hips, warm on his.

The ringing in his ears subsides a little as your lips touch his again.

“Let me know if you want to stop, you look a little overwhelmed.” You whisper.

“No,” Rodrick urges, “I never wanna stop,”

You laugh, and start to kiss a trail down his chest.

He sighs into the feeling and closes his eyes.

The fuzz in his head isn't gone, though.

Yet.

It'll go away, he knows it.

He just needs to focus. On you, on how good you're making him feel.

On how good he'd made you feel, he's pretty damn proud of that.

Just stay in the moment.

Please, just stay in the moment.

And now I'm ready to close my eyes

And now I'm ready to close my mind

And now I'm ready to feel your hand

And lose my heart on the burning sand

And now I wanna be your dog

And now I wanna be your dog

And now I wanna be your dog

Well, c'mon

~

tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

[fanatics4l]

thinking thoughts about that scene in season two when hopper and el fight and he threatens to bring her back to her abusive dad (MAN I WAS PISSED AT HOPPER) and she breaks down.

that exact scene but picture this: billy has lived with hopper and el ever since he was adopted. today, hopper and billy are having a particularly bad day, so they accidentally take their anger out on each other.

(this will contain a part two when i have time.)

the car ride home is tense and silent until hopper opens his mouth. "why'd you punch him, kid?" he sees billy shrug from the corner of his eyes. "none of your business, old man."

hopper grits his teeth. this damn brat has a serious attitude problem. "yeah, well. i had to leave work early for you so the least you can do is explain to me why."

once they arrive at the cabin, hopper watches as billy brushes past him and into the house. he sighs and follows. as he closes the front door, he can hear billy slamming shit around in his room and clenches his fists. don't get mad, jim. stay calm. "come out here and talk to me, billy. stop acting like a child." and yes he sort of regrets saying that because the poor kid never got to actually be a child thanks to his asshole dad.

"go away! stop acting like you care!" billy shouts from behind his closed door. hopper grits his teeth before opening the door and standing in the doorway, watching as billy throws a bottle of his nail polish at the opposite wall.

"hey! you don't throw shit in this house, you hear me?" hopper yells. he's ignored as billy continues to throw all his girly (is that the right word? last time hopper called it that, billy wouldn't talk to him for a day) products across the room. "HEY!"

billy turns around angrily, glaring fiercely. "i said go away! get out of my room!"

"your room? with just a snap of my fingers, kid, you'd be on the street right now!" hopper was too angry to feel regret, but he could feel something heavy in his chest starting to grow. his day was just so fucking shitty and this brat is making everything worse with his stupid fucking attitude.

hopper watches as tears spring into billy's blue eyes, shoulders rising to his ears defensively. "i hate you."

"what did you just say?" hopper takes a menacing step forward. billy flinches back before hardening his glare.

"I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU NEVER ADOPTED ME," he screams, making hopper's eyes widen and his breath freeze in his throat.

he tries to calm down but he's never dealt with a boy before. he's only had daughters. so maybe the old fashioned side of him thinks he can be a little rougher with his son than he would be with his daughter. hopper doesn't even feel like himself when he lets out a shaky laugh.

"yeah, well. it's not like i wanted you here anyways." lies. "you remember i'm the chief of police, right? one call down at the prison and i can make that wish of yours come true." stop. billy's crying now, backing away and shaking his head.

"what do you say, kid? you wanna go see dear ol' daddy? is that what you want? huh?" he takes another step forward, throwing his hands up in the air.

billy flinches so hard he falls onto the floor. "no- NO!" he sobs loudly. "I DONT WANNA GO BACK- I DONT WANNA," he cries, curling into himself with his arms raised.

hopper feels like he's watching himself from out of his own body, feeling a sense of dread building up. "i thought that's what you wanted. why are you saying no now? real fathers know best, don't they?"

he just wants his officers to listen to him for once. he wants that stupid mike wheeler kid to stay away from his daughter. but nobody ever fucking listens to him.

"stop it- STOP IT," billy screams, covering his ears.

"maybe if you listened to me-"

"HELP," billy shouts frantically when the footsteps reach too close to him.

hopper freezes. he feels like the air finally breaches his lungs while simultaneously leaving them. he looks down at billy, his seventeen year old son, looking so so tiny and terrified. his arms are outstretched in front of him and his knees are pulled up to his chest. he's trembling so intensely, hopper fears he might pass out.

hopper stumbles back, eyes wide. "billy- honey, i-"

it's at that moment that joyce rushes in with a panicked el behind her. the second she catches sight of billy on the ground, she shoves hopper away roughly and lands on the floor in front of the boy. when she reaches out to touch him, billy flinches harshly, still sobbing. his eyes are glazed over like he isn't really present.

"what. did. you. do," el glares at him, breathing heavily.

hopper has never hated himself more.

[kusaka6e]

TUTOR

two | three | four

chapter list

———

you'd been at the library for about an hour, doing homework for your other classes while you waited for 4:30 to hit.

someone dramatically sitting in the chair across from you makes you jump, pulling one of your earbuds out.

baji is sitting in front of you, slamming a notebook down onto the table.

"did you have to make such an entrance?"

"didn’t wanna be late.”

"i didn't know you cared about being on time."

he scoffs at your comment, pulling out a pencil.

"what are you doing in chem right now?"

"i have no fucking clue." he replies blankly

you choke back a laugh at the deadpan look on his face, knowing he's being completely serious.

"you have any notes to look at?" he shakes his head, making you roll your eyes.

"no wonder you're failing, you don't have anything to study with."

"my teacher talks too fast for me to write anything down! and he just talks to us like we're stupid if we ask questions." he crossed his arms over his chest, angrily furrowing his eyebrows.

"i can look in my dorm and see if i still have my notes from last semester, you can have them if i do."

"really?"

"i've already taken all the chemistry classes i need for my major, it's not like i have any use for them."

"so what happens until you find them?"

"you can't think of one thing your teacher talked about? or have any exam you've already taken, or something?"

he clicks a few times on his laptop, face scrunching with concentration as he scrolls.

"here's this." he turns the screen towards you, a triumphant smile on his face. a '35/100' is in large numbers next to the assignment name.

"damn. looks like i've got my work cut out for me."

"shut up!"

he searches through his surprisingly organized notebook, pulling out a few sheets of paper from a divider.

"this is the written work."

"give me a second." you look over the problems, analyzing his work and where he went wrong. his handwriting was a little wild, but to your surprise he was pretty detailed in writing out his calculations, which made it easier for you to explain his errors.

"so, you got all the numbers right on these but you have to mind your sig figs."

"what the fuck is a sig fig?"

"significant figures. in chemistry calculations, you have to be really accurate. sig figs are like a set of rules to keep numbers accurate."

"how is that any different from just using a calculator?"

you flip to an empty page in his notebook, making a small title to write about significant figures.

he watches as you scribble down the notes, your eyebrows creeping together with focus.

why is my chest tingling ?

ew this is weird

"so, every time you do a calculation you have to follow these rules with your answer."

"so, even though this is what the calculator says, that's not the whole answer."

"right, it starts with two zeros and those don't count."

it takes about a half an hour, but he's eventually able to get through a set of problems without error.

"good job."

"i did it! i'm the best chemistry student the world has ever seen!" he dramatically flexed his arms, proudly grinning

"you sure about that?"

"of course i am."

"okay, show me how to do dimensional analysis." his face pales, smile dropping. you let out a chuckle, turning to a fresh page in the notebook

"you couldn't just let me have my moment?"

"not until you don't need my help anymore."

two hours pass, and you've covered a good amount of information. you could tell as hard as he was trying, baji was quickly losing focus.

"okay, let's call it a night."

"finally." he breathed out, tossing his pencil on the table.

"damn, i didn't know you were that excited to get away from me."

"if you come near me with any more chemistry stuff right now, i might punch you."

"i'd like to see you try." you raise a brow, making him smirk.

"you’re a lot more dense than i thought, but i think you’ll be able to pass. the fact that you actually care so much helps.”

"don't call me dense, i don't know what it means." you burst out into laughter, making him roll his eyes before he lets out a chuckle.

"just because im in toman doesn't mean i don't care about school. we're all humans too, we don't eat sleep and breathe fighting."

"i never said you guys aren't human. but it's nice that you care about your grades."

"well don't make me out to be some softie!"

"i'll see you later baji." you roll your eyes, waving as you head for your dorm.

you open the door, hanging your keys on the wall hook.

"how was tutoring?"

you whirl around, seeing emma, draken, and mikey sitting on your floor with uno cards in their hands.

"how the hell did you guys get in here?!"

"picked the lock." mikey grinned

"you’re all insane."

"i'm surprised you both made it out alive." emma giggled

"he’s even dumber than i thought, but he’ll be fine.”

“baji might seem like an idiot, but he’ll surprise you.” draken doesn't look up from placing down a draw four, making mikey's jaw drop.

"kenny! this is betrayal!"

"you hit me with draw fours three times in a row last round, get over it."

you grin at their banter, mikey dramatically whining about draken breaking his heart.

"deal me in next round, i'll destroy you losers."

"you're on." emma grins, grabbing the stack of cards.

as the next round begins and you're looking over your cards, your phone buzzes.

unknown

today, 7:32 pm

hey

can we meet agn tmw

hey baji

more questions already?

i'm still at the lirbary

libary

LIBRARY

i was looking at the notes u rote and i got lost

same time tomorrow

[poppy-metal]

Nah but your bully reader x izuku holy fuck its so good just thinking about how one day the reader just gets so fucking out of line that izuku drags her to his room and just goes to town putting her in her place. just absolutely railing her as the headboard smacks against the wall and saying such dirty things like "I'll teach you to stop being so mean to me "I'll show you how much of a man I can be" or my favorite "cmon scream my name let everyone know this lowlife dork is making you cream on his cock" awooga anyways finally as shes about to reach her climax he just stops completely only to look her dead in the eyes and say "tell me you love me cmon say it and ill keep going" but shes so stubborn that she just pouts with a red face panting heavily as she looks away unable to meet his gaze. however this only fuels izuku causing him to lift her chin up to meet his green eyes that seem to boar into her very soul shaking her to the core. he chuckles at her doey eyed expression before speaking once again "funny you spend all that time looking down on me and now you cant even look me in the eye" he begins teasing her by rubbing his angry red tip between her slick folds causing her to gasp as he slams back into her over and over again until her brain turns to mush and its not long before he claims his reward. all that can be heard over the slapping of skins and moans are "i love you izuku" and "please cum inside i need it" and who is izuku to deny this request ?

No bc this punched me in the actual gut :(( 

Its after awhile in your little secret relationship and izuku is frankly tired of being treated like he doesn’t matter to you when it’s so glaringly obvious you’re in love with him. He’s not your dirty secret, and he’s a soft, romantic boy. He wants to fucking hold your hand in the hall and buy you flowers and be able to kiss you whenever he wants, he love language is quality time and acts of service okay, he’s dying on the inside slowly because the only time you’re soft for him is on his cock, but it’s not enough. 

So when a pretty, sweet girl smiles at him, and he know’s you’re watching he doesn’t try and bashfully reject her. He looks at you and makes sure you’re watching when he smiles and takes the slip of paper with her number on, slipping it in his back pocket. He expects the way your lip curls, the way your fists clench and the way you shove yourself out of your seat and stomp out of the common room. He’s already following you the second you’re out the door. 

He catches you around the waist from behind, presses your back against his chest when you struggle and leans forward, lips at your ear. “Tell me why i shouldn’t go” he’s pleading, squeezing you tight. “Give me a reason” 

You grit your teeth, actually feeling tears build because you’re so frustrated. With your feelings, with him, with all of it. “Fuck off. If you want some other bitch that’s on you. Hope she’s ready to be disappointed in bed”

He doesn’t even react to your jabs, his lips stay close to the back of your neck. “M’gonna have a big family one day, y’know?” he says softly. “I wanna be a dad,___. I want to be in love and have a woman who i can kiss and hold and share a life with. Who lets me make love to her” 

The last part is whispered right against the shell of your ear. You squirm. “I want that woman to be you” he finishes, and you close your eyes, feeling the way your heart caves in your chest.

You don’t know why you can’t just be easy to love. Its what izuku deserves, and the picture he’s painted….it’s what you want. You want to be the reason izuku smiles and gets dimples, you want to be the person he reaches out to and loves so hard. But you’re scared of the overwhelming way that giving yourself over to your love for him would make you powerless. You’d never recover if he left you, never. 

“I don’t wanna be your stupid housewife..” You mumble. Yes, you do. You feel his sigh against your hair, his breath moving it. 

“You do.” Izuku turns you around to face him. He traces a thumb over your cheek. “I know you wanna be my girl, yeah? You don’t need to shout it from the rooftops or wear it like a badge but...i need to know you- i need to hear you say it” 

You want to. You want to say it but - “im-” You look down, mumble, “im scared” 

Izuku smiles down at you, his eyes softening as his thumb brushes over your lip, slides down your neck and then drops down to grab your hand. “I know you are. Won’t make you say it how i wanna hear it yet. We’ll take it slow, okay? But im gonna hear you say it. By the end of tonight” He grins. “Even if i have to drag it out of you with orgasms” 

And later he does make you say it. Its not loud, or public, how he wants yet. But its a little give, to all your pushing. Even if he has to bully it out of you a little, has to drag the plush head of his dick through the soaked folds of your cunny and tease your little clit until you’re begging. 

Its a little cruel, honestly. The way he makes you so vulnerable, gasping and weeping as he fucks you so, so slow, dragging his cock along your walls in a painfully tender glide, making you feel every inch, knowing you’re dying, gasping, needing it harder, deeper, faster. “Say it, baby” he groans against your mouth, working his hips in tiny barely there increments, barely feeding you his cock how you want it. Licking your upper lip as you cry and whimper. “Tell the little nerd you like to tease so much how much you love him, go on” 

Your dig your nails into his freckled, flexing back as your eyes roll back, his pelvis grinding into your clit in sweet torture as you give in. “i-i love you, izuku. Please” 

“Mm, i know” he says, and you’re to far gone to catch the smugness behind it. He rewards you by gripping you under your thighs and pulling your legs up, sliding into you in a heavy and deep thrust that has his balls clapping against the underside of your pussy as he fills it deep. “Love you too. So much. Gonna make you wanna be my girlfriend one day, and then my pretty little wife, and then” He grunts, grinding. “The mother of my children”

[hitmewithabusposts]

Can you write a ryan dunn x reader oneshot? Maybe they meet on a night out and really hit it off?

Of course!!🫶

Napkins

Ryan Dunn x Reader

TW: alcohol, language

————————————

I worked at a bar downtown, bartending 4-5 nights a week. On the upside it was good money, and easy for me to make good tips, downside was dealing with the drunk creepy guys and occasionally having to clean up spilt drinks and vomit from my floors.

It was any other Friday night, my regulars placed around tables of the bar, chatting amongst themselves, when a rowdy gang of guys came strutting in through the door, a couple of them I could tell were already plastered.

Most of them found an empty table, and a few of them found their way up to me. “Welcome in fellas, what can I help you guys with?” I said with a big ole smile, working my way to good tips. The man with sunglasses on his head and a big belt buckle looked over his lenses at me and smiled saying, “a whiskey, and a round of beers at the table please, sweetheart, and can I start a tab?” “sure thing honey, what’s the name?” “Johnny, ma’am” he said as I slid him his whiskey, and moved down to the next guy.

This one I immediately noticed was different from the others, a lot shorter you could say. “What about you?” I asked, looking down at him with the same smile I gave Johnny. “Just a round of shots of whatever tequila you have, and I wanna start a tab too, just put weeman” he smiled sweetly at me as I made a comment about how they’re mixing beer and liquor.

Finally, I got to the last guy in the group who had a small smile on his face already, a beard, and a rose tint to his cheeks. The others had gone back to the table, leaving me and this man up here. “This may be weird, but can I start a tab under this guy?” He said, pulling out a card with the name “Bam Margera” and an ID matching the name on the card that was not his. I notcied Bam was one of his friends he came in with, and got the gist that Bam had no clue he was buying drinks tonight. I laughed and smiled, “sure thing, what’s your name tho honey? Just so when your friend does find out he’s paying for yours, I’ll have a finger to point” I joked, making him smile

“It’s Ryan, I’m with those jackasses over there”

“So I’ve noticed, how did you all find eachother and what in the hell are you guys doing?” I asked, sliding him a bottle of beer he ordered. “Filming a show, I grew up being friends with Bam, and Johnny over there got noticed by a production company by doing self defense shit on himself, so they rounded up some guys who seemed like they’d be down to do stupid shit for a living and here we are filming our show for MTV” he explained, as I nodded.

Throughout the night, Ryan stayed up at the bar chit chatting with me as others started leave for the night, leaving just the Jackass guys.

“Hey lover boy” a guy Ryan told me who’s name was Chris, said coming up to him and pinched his cheek playfully, earning a punch from Ryan. “Did I embarrass you in front of your new girlfriendddd Ryan?” Chris added on, a blush going to Ryan’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry about them” he told me, shamefully putting his head in his hands and laughing. I joined in, “trust me, it’s free entertainment for me, and you don’t make bad company either” I told him with a wink.

“Where the fuck is my card? And my whole wallet actually? Which one of you fuckers has it?” Bam suddenly said, making Ryan burst out laughing, revealing where his stuff had gone. The guys stood around laughing as Bam drunkenly chased Ryan as he yelled “sorry man! I didn’t spend too much!”, Bam finally gave up when Ryan threw his wallet at him.

“You boys ready?” Johnny said, causing the energy to die down slightly. They all came up to me and thanked me, telling me they’d be back in soon, and suddenly all of them were gone except dunn.

“Not gonna leave with your friends?” I questioned, coming around to his side of the bar and sitting on the stool next to him.

“Well, I didn’t want to leave until I got your number, actually” he admitted, looking at me with that same blush on his face.

I grabbed a napkin and wrote my number quickly on it, sliding it to him as he stood up. “You’re already my favorite customer” I told him, as he walked over to me. I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, earning another smile from him. “I’ll call you tomorrow” he told me, putting the napkin in his pocket and patting it safe. “I’m looking forward to it, have a nice night Dunn” “you too y/n” he said with a wink, before following after his drunk friends who were already half way down the street.

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

The Bait Pt 3

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3- You’re here!

“Alright, listen. We need to talk.” Sun hums in acknowledgement, eyes glued to the cheap pink plastic toy in his hands. Monty is relieved that he managed to find that thing; When Gregory fell asleep he wasn’t sure how else he was going to keep Sun distracted. It felt like it was ages since Freddy left with Moon, even though it had been less than half an hour. But considering he hadn’t received any panicked messages from the lead singer or gotten his head ripped off by the nighttime jester, Freddy’s side of the plan must of worked out. Now it was up to him. 

Monty jumps when he looks up to see Suns pale empty eyes staring up to him, grinning with unsettling childish glee. Fuck, that is unsettling...

Sun giggles at the gators reaction; For being so big and tough, he sure is easy to scare. He’ll have to note that down for later. Suns eyes drift as he looks around him; Moon is gone. How long had he been gone for? He’s surprised he didn’t notice the absence sooner. He tucks the toy into his pocket, rubbing his chin in a cartoonishly animated manner. “We are talking, silly gator! Now that’s settled we can move onto a infinitely more important subject! Where is Moon?”

Monty’s tail sways slightly in irritation; Sun was always a bit oblivious and slightly annoying, but dear god he had gotten so much worse. He tries not to let it bother him though, he can’t afford to get angry; At least not yet. “You gotta stop all of this, dude. I know you don’t actually want to hurt anyone, we can help you. We just need the access code, and we can help you.” He knew that reasoning most likely wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot.

Sun groans loudly, body slumping forward in exasperation. This again? These two have been trying to convince him and his brother to give up their access codes all night, as if they would let these tools know that! They aren’t stupid, and they don’t need any help. It was funny before but now it’s starting to get really annoying. 

“Goood, is that the only thing you can talk about?? Code this, code that, don’t do this, don’t do that, you’re sooo annoying! Don’t you know what the word no means, you wanna be punk? You’ve been asking us allll night, and everytime we answered the same! What could you possibly have this time that would change our minds?”

Monty silently fumes, clenching his hands into fists; Even without Moon around, he knows he can’t punch the bastard no matter how much he wants to. He growls, seething, “Your brother. Look around! He ain’t here, is he? We have him, so you best drop your fucking attitude if you want to see him again.” 

His tone startles Sun; His eyes narrow, the threat weighing heavy on his mind. Who does Monty think he is, threatening him like that?! It’s ridiculous! Moon, of all people? He’d love to see someone try and kidnap his brother without getting their head torn off. He really likes to play with his prey, always puts on quite a show. His brothers theatrics never fail to amaze him, it would be great to watch! And they could keep the head as a collectable! The head can go with the dismembered staff bots and serve as the main centerpiece! 

Sun sneers, placing a hand to his chest in mock offense, “Excuse me? Are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re threatening Moon, the same person who almost put the pizza plex on lockdown and has a collection of heads? I know that you’re out of ideas, but seriously? At least try to do better then that!” he coos, smirking when his eye twitches in rage. 

“You don’t believe me?!”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

“THEN FUCKING CHECK! See if he replies, do it! See if he comes back!”

Sun scoffs, rolling his eyes, but humors Monty anyways and obliges.

Moony, come get your leather purse, he’s being soooo annoying!

Where did you go anyways? I didn’t even notice you leave!

... Moooonnyy! Moonshine! Starlight!

Oh my little starrrr~ 

I’m going to continue using embarrassing nicknames until you repllyyyy

...

Moon?

No reply. The calls go unheard. A feeling of unease washes over him, though he tucks it away for now. While it is pretty weird that Moon isn’t replying, he could just be preoccupied! It’s nothing to get worried about; Not yet at least. But it is concerning, so he dives deeper into his brothers data to see if he can find out what’s wrong. If he can’t message him directly, then he’ll just need to find out where he is and talk to him in person!

Error: Permission denied

Permission denied? But, that’s not possible. They can’t turn off their trackers, so then why can’t he access Moons? They should work in the entire facility! The only place where they don’t work is the basement... The small gut feeling that something is amiss becomes stronger. 

He tears through their headspace, opening every single file of data he can think of only to get similar results; Sun has no way of knowing where Moon is, what he’s seeing, anything at all. So deep in the code, he can feel a crack in the wall that keeps their minds separated; Feelings pour in through the hole at an alarming rate. Terror that isn’t his own rushes through him in waves; It feels like he’s drowning in paranoia and uncertainty. He manages to tough it out, letting the emotions subside and tries to process what he just learned. 

Okay. So Moon may actually be in some trouble. But, there’s no way it’s THAT bad! He got the same wave of emotions from his brother whenever those freaky endos followed them through the service halls. Maybe he’s down with them again, trying to clean up; All that clutter really bugged him, and he had mentioned thinking of cleaning it up sometime. Maybe he just went to look around the area a bit and dismounted from the cable too fast; It was a rather short burst of emotions after all. 

Sometimes he wishes that it was as easy to lie to himself as it was to lie to others.

Nevertheless, his search complete he pulls out of his head space, a broad smile still on his face; Though it now wavers with uncertainty. He could lie and say that Moon replied, it would be funny to see his reaction to that, but it isn’t worth the risk. He has a gut feeling that something else is going on here, and that his lie could get Moon hurt. That’s the last thing he wants. 

Not like anything is wrong. No, of course not. Everything is alright, this is all probably a big misunderstanding! The pieces are starting to click together though, and he doesn’t like the picture they make. 

“Geez Monty, the way you’re talking makes it sound like you’re holding my brother hostage or something!” He chuckles, bouncing anxiously in place. Monty stares at him for a moment, expression unreadable; Sun squirms under his harsh glare. 

“We are. Freddy took him into parts and services earlier, so you best not try anything if you want him returned in one piece, got it?”

Suns smile drops, the realization like a slap to the face. Playing with Gregory, the toy Monty had given him, the golf stories he told.. all that time they spent getting along... that was to distract him, wasn’t it? Distract him so that Freddy could take his Moon. 

Moon... He had asked his brother to trust the singer, to move past his grudge and get to know him. To maybe be.. friends. It wasn’t Freddy’s fault that he was too busy to visit after all, but he knows how protective Moon can be. He asked Moon to do that, “do it for me” he said, and he listened, because Moon trusts Sun with his life and he feels the same. 

“Parts and services?”

Monty is surprised by how quickly his tone shifts to be darker, colder and more serious. It’s unnerving, how fast his smile drops into a frown. 

“Before you say anything, we found those special restraints. He won’t be leaving anytime soon, not unless you hear us out.”

The restraints?..

THE SHOCK RESTRAINTS?!

MOON!

Please say something!!

Are you okay?!

Are you hurt?!

I’m so sorry, I had no idea this would happen!!

I’m coming, just hang on alright?!

Oh please, please PLEASE respond!

Everything will be alright, I promise. Just hang on a little longer, moonlight!

I can’t lose you!!

Monty forgot how strong Sun is. As weak as he looks, when he shook Monty his body rattled like a giant ragdoll. He damn near threw him across the room, and it wasn’t even on purpose! “YOU WHAT?! YOU IDIOT, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING OVERGROWN LIZARD! MOON TRUSTED YOU, HE TRUSTED YOU! HE TRUSTED YOU AFTER YOU BROKE HIS HEART AND YOU BROKE HIS HEART AGAIN! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM?!” the blinding hot rage takes over before he can stop it. How dare he betray his brother like that, plotting to hurt him, using him like some TOOL! Moon had been so happy to see Monty again, Sun should’ve known that he couldn’t be trusted. He should’ve warned Moon, he knew that gator was trouble! He doesn’t deserve his brother, he doesn’t DESVERE his Moon!! 

Monty pushes Sun away, taking a step back, “HEY, what did I just say?! You got a lotta nerve grabbing me like that!!” he snaps, annoyance clear in his voice. In all honesty, the attendants accusation hurt more then he was willing to admit. The thought that he betrayed Moon had been lingering in his mind for a while, and he couldn’t help but feel partly responsible for his condition now. He shouldn’t of ever distanced himself from him, he shouldn’t of listened to Freddy’s stupid paranoia. Monty can still remember how hurt Moon had looked when he told him they couldn’t hang out anymore. Maybe if he had been there, the daycare wouldn’t of been closed. Maybe he wouldn’t be in the situation he is in now.. But he pushed it aside for now. He was doing what he had to do to get Moon, the real Moon, back. He could apologize for being a horrible friend after.

Suns rays spin and he quickly backtracks, holding his hands up in surrender; Yelling will make Monty mad, and as much as he wants him dead right now being aggressive would only put his brothers safety at sake. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!! Please let me see him, I just want to see if he’s alright! We can talk about the deal, I’ll listen I promise but please let me see him! I have to see he’s alright first, please!” Sun pleads, clasping his hands infront of him. He has to see him, Moon is locked up and scared out of his mind. He can’t leave his brother scared and alone, just the thought makes him want to scream!  

Monty growls gruffly, glaring down the jester. At least he was being a bit less annoying now, and as long as he comes to parts and service it doesn’t matter. “Fine. But remember; You’re on thin ice.”

Sun shudders, nodding rapidly. He is on thin ice, though he fears his brother will be the one to reap the consequences of his actions.

[spencersawkward]

top shelf//MGG - part 1

summary: broke and having a bad day, Reader runs into Matthew outside a café. after a couple encounters, his financial support and friendship become something more.

word count: 3k

content warnings: swearing but nothing else!

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

A/N: hi! welcome to my new series. i don’t think this will be super long in terms of parts, but i’ll try to update as frequently as possible for you all. this chapter is pretty expositional, so i’m sorry in advance lol. also i know i made it short but lmk if you want them to be longer. also shoutout my sweet sweet angels @reidsconverse and @voidsfilm bc i would literally cry without both of you. also THANK YOU to @dr-spencerr-reidd for this concept bc i probably wouldn't have written it without your ask!! sending hugs :)

you throw your phone down on the passenger seat with a frustrated groan. after everything that's happened today, you're now stuck on a congested street with your car barely inside the parking spot alongside the sidewalk.

your screen sits there beside you, blank and unresponsive, and you know you're going to have to go inside the coffee shop to ask to use their phone and call Triple A. of course it's not working because nothing is working today. you might as well just sit in your car and cry.

but you can't, because you have a huge project for work that you need to get done by next week, and you've already procrastinated enough. a red glow from the headlights of other cars on the street shine through your windows like melted wax, distorted by the rain. it's been pouring all day.

bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grab the old umbrella from the foot well of the passenger seat and open the door of your car. the torrents hit your body like a wall of ice, soaking you as you try to get to the safety of the café. the umbrella helps a little, but then you get to the overhang and have to actually close it before you head inside.

your fingertips slip around the metal, trying to shove the thing closed while water drips off the bridge of your nose. it's frustrating. your footsteps are still determined as they move towards the entrance, but you're distracted by the stubborn nature of the object, so you don't see the man walking out.

it's not even a bodily collision, really. it's so much worse: the sopping material of the umbrella pokes him in the stomach, knocking the hot cup of coffee all over his sweater.

your eyes widen.

"oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry--" you stutter over your words, completely at a loss. his face is twisted up in an expression of concealed pain. it can't feel good to have hot coffee seeping through your clothes after being prodded by a piece of metal. you move your wet hair out of your face in order to look at him full-on.

"it's fine, really." he gives you what's supposed to be a friendly smile, but looks more like a grimace. your stomach twists; he's hot. like, if you saw him at the bar you would stare at him all night kind of hot.

"no, it's not," your face heats up, despite the cold, damp air. "let me buy you another coffee."

"I--" he glances down at his sweater, which is knitted with cute foxes on the front, then back at you. he pauses a moment and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep from collapsing. he's considerably older than you, but he doesn't dress or act that way. maybe late thirties, if you had to guess. "sure. thanks."

a flowering relief in your chest, partly because he doesn't seem angry and partly because you'd like to look at his face just a bit longer. your eyes stay on his until someone walks through the door of the café and reminds you of where you are.

without a word, you brush past and go into the building, him trailing behind.

Matthew watches as you walk ahead, your clothes spattered with rainwater and your hair somewhat messed up, too. he smiles to himself at the way you almost bump into the corner of a table, nervousness evident in nearly every movement.

you head to the counter, setting your hands on the granite while the barista checks out your unkempt appearance.

"hi," you smile at her before realizing you have no idea what this guy wants. you turn around and see him standing slightly behind you, suppressing a smile. he can tell how flustered you are, and now you look like a fool. "what coffee do you drink?"

"can I have a medium Americano, please?" he asks the barista with a friendly smile. he's got straight teeth, dimples... holy shit. you wish he had been unappealing so that this whole situation would be less humiliating.

you pay for his drink before getting out of the way, both of you slowly walking to the pickup counter.

"again, I'm really sorry. that stupid umbrella." you shake the thing at your side, raindrops falling to the floor. you run a hand through your wet hair.

"it's okay. I appreciate you getting me another cup." he flashes that smile again and you remember that his sweater is all stained. before you can think to do anything else, you pluck a handful of napkins from the self-serve station and start to dab at the material.

he looks down at you for a second, surprised by the way you grab his clothes. Matthew feels your hand pressing into his stomach innocently, and he feels himself blush a little. it's only when you pull away that he's able to regain his head.

"it's still bad," you throw away the napkins and re-evaluate the garment. "jesus christ, it's a nice sweater, too."

"hey, it's totally fine. I can just wash it out." he lets out a slight chuckle, and the sound makes your heart flutter. he's got a dad laugh. deep in his chest.

"baking soda and water." you say abruptly. he frowns.

"what?"

"to get the stain out? I use baking soda and water for coffee stains and it usually works." you explain gently, your eyes meeting again. his irises are a brownish hazel color, warm. the laugh lines by them are charming.

"oh," he grins. "do you get coffee stains often?"

you twist your mouth to the side and glance at the windows of the coffee shop. he's teasing you and you'd be remiss if you said you don't want to play along. "more than I'd like to admit."

you can feel him looking at you with that stupidly brilliant smile and it's really setting you off-kilter. someone shouldn't be that attractive; it's not fair. and yet you want desperately to stare, if purely for the sake of aesthetic enjoyment.

"I'm Matthew." he extends his hand, which is decorated with a series of rings. you realize that you don't even know his name.

"Y/N." you shake. his fingers are softer than you expected.

"nice to meet you, Y/N."

"and under such fortuitous circumstances." the corners of your mouth turn up as you relax a little.

he laughs at your words, the delightful ring of it interrupted by a new Americano showing up on the counter. he glances at the to-go cup, then at you, then goes to get his drink. you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he's not displaying anything past friendliness.

"well, um." something like disappointment settles in your stomach as you recognize this will be the last of your interaction. there's no reason for him to stick around, and you need to get back home to work, anyway.

"I'll let you get back to your day." Matthew doesn't seem nervous, just unsure as he grips the coffee in his hand. you open and close your mouth like something impressive enough to keep him here will come out. you know it won't.

and then you remember the state of affairs, the existence of your useless car and the useless phone in the front seat, how you're going to have to call Triple A and then your roommate to come get you.

Matthew realizes that you aren't going to say anything and he gives you one last smile and an awkward wave before turning to go. you watch in silence as he crosses the room to the door. two more seconds until he's out of your life forever. so of course you choose this exact moment to speak.

"wait."

his head jerks suddenly to look at you. this is embarrassing, but you have nothing to lose.

"can I... borrow your phone?"

Matthew tilts his head to the side slightly, frowning as though deeply confused. and you suppose it is a strange thing to ask, especially given that you're a younger person and most people your age carry their phones everywhere. "sure." he walks back over to you, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

"I just--" you fumble with the device while you decide how to phrase it without sounding like a pathetic mess. "my car keeps breaking down and my phone battery is, like, totally fucked, so it just turns off and on constantly and it’s still in my car but it’s raining and I just wanna see if it’s back on so I can call my roommate." you immediately cringe at yourself. the rambling isn’t cute.

he’s not too bothered by your panicking, though, his mouth only forming an O shape. "it’s no problem."

you dial your number, fingers trembling while he waits. he's turned his eyes to the rest of the coffee shop, but it still makes you nervous that he's standing right there. you put the cell to your ear and pray that it rings out.

you’re greeted by the sound of your own voice telling you to leave a message. great. with a frustrated sigh, you hang up and Matthew gives you an inquisitive expression.

“it’s still off,” you explain. “I’m gonna call my roommate.”

he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets while you punch in the other number. for a split second, you peek his way and admire his side profile. he really is something to behold; a model, maybe.

"hello?" good thing Cecilia has no problem answering unknown numbers. you bite your lip.

"hey, it's me."

"Y/N? whose phone are you using?"

"uh, someone I just met--" you frown as you try to find a way to describe him without something as insulting as a random guy. "anyway, my car broke down so I was wondering if you could pick me up."

there's a pause on the other end of the line, like the movement of sheets and the slightly disappointed groan of another person. she probably has her boyfriend over again. "sure, of course. where are you?"

you give her the address and hang up before dialing the car repair company. Matthew gestures to a table off to the side so that you two don't need to stand, and then you sit down across from him. you're so distracted by the person on the other end of the line that you don't even think about it.

Matthew twists his rings on his fingers. he's fidgety and it's sort of cute. you try not to stare at his hands, at the black spot of ink on the outside of his pinky. either he writes a lot or he's an artist. you have to focus on the table in order to keep from blushing.

finally, you finish up with the phone and hand it back to him. "you're a life saver."

"do you want me to wait with you until your friend gets here?" he gestures out the window. your immediate reaction is to say yes. it'll be awkward to sit here alone without your phone, without coffee. but you don't want to keep him any longer than you already have.

"it's okay, I'm sure you have places to be." you smile accommodatingly. he chooses his next words carefully, it seems.

"I don't, really. but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, too." the way he speaks, offering his company without trying to impose... something about it makes your heart melt a bit. you appreciate his thoughtfulness. it makes you want to know more.

"okay," you nod as you make your decision. "if you wanna stay. it shouldn't be too long."

"great," he settles back into his chair, the light from the café lights above you reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. "why does your car keep breaking down?"

you exhale sharply at the thought. "that's a really good question, because I don't know the answer. it's super old and I'm too broke to afford a new one."

he nods.

Matthew's mind turns to different avenues at this knowledge. he knows you're young and that usually means that there isn't a lot of spare income. and he doesn't know if you have a job. but what he does know is that you've got an energy about you-- a sweet, well-intentioned manner that draws him in. every once in a while throughout the conversation, you throw out certain phrases that hint at a quick-witted intelligence.

you're funny, but not boldly so. and when you two get on the topic of how you ended up rain-soaked, shoving your way into a Los Angeles café, you tell him about your day.

"--and I have this shitty job right now working for one of my old professor's friends, so it's not like I can afford to constantly repair the damages. all my money is going towards my savings so I can pay for grad school, anyway." you sigh. he listens intently to your words, and he never shies away from eye contact. every time he nods along, you practically feel your heart leap.

"what do you do?" he asks.

"I write for a wellness magazine, but I'm sort of a fraud." you joke.

he laughs. "why's that?"

"I don't know, a lot of it is about different yoga methods and meditation, stuff like that-- but I don't do any of that in my daily life." you admit. it should be embarrassing, but you don't feel ashamed of the fact. he seems to find it funny.

"working your way toward a different kind of job, then?"

"I'm hoping for a more editorial role, honestly, but..." you lift your eyes to his. they're bright, he notices; full of a deep-rooted hope. "gotta start somewhere, right?"

"very true." Matthew wants to tell you just how much he understands, about the roles as an actor he's taken and the hours he spent making films in college, just hoping that one day he'd be able to make things on his own, but he doesn't want to scare you away or sound like he's bragging. it's not your fault you don't know who he is.

"sorry," you speak through a silence he doesn't realize he's left between you two. "I've talked your ear off and you don't even really know me. what do you do?"

"oh--" Matthew actually blushes this time. you see the pink creeping up his neck. "I'm an actor."

in the same way they did when you ran into him, your eyes widen. "an actor?"

"yeah," he smiles at the expression on your face. "you know that show, Criminal Minds?"

the name is familiar, but you've never seen an episode. "yeah, of course."

"I'm in that."

you don't know a lot about the program, but you've heard it talked about and you know that it's a popular show. so this guy is an actual actor, not just some LA wannabe. that makes him about five times more intimidating. you feel even more idiotic for not seeing it before.

"oh, shit," the words tumble out. Matthew grins at the bluntness of your reaction, and you scramble to recover. "sorry I didn't know who you are."

"no worries!" he laughs it off. "it's not a big deal."

"do you like it?" you ask. "being famous, I mean."

he shifts in his seat for a second as he makes a face like he doesn't know how to answer. you wonder if there's something deeper to him that you just haven't seen, yet. secret feelings about the subject. "I'm really not very famous, but I love the work."

genuinely humble. you can see it in his face, the sparkle in his eyes. and maybe he's just charming and you're just a girl blinded by his attractiveness, but your gut tells you that he's being real.

this time, you're the one who falls silent. admittedly, you get a little in your head sometimes. and it makes sense, now, the smoothness of his behavior and the sheer beauty of his face. this is a show business city-- of course he's famous.

Matthew's phone rings and he jumps, as if jolted from a dream. your attention moves immediately to the screen and you recognize Cecilia's number. he pushes the device over to you.

"hello?" your voice sounds far away.

"hey, I'm here. where are you?" she says.

"I'm just inside the café."

"oh, okay, I'll park and come in--" you hear the click of a seatbelt and start to panic. she can't see you in here with him.

"no!" you say too loudly. Matthew's head jerks up to frown at you.

"why not?" Cecilia asks, confused.

"no reason," god, you're a bad liar. "I'll come out and we can wait for the Triple A person in your car." you and Matthew make eye contact again. he gives you an understanding smile. your stomach flips.

"sounds good." she hangs up and you grab your umbrella. time to go.

"thanks for letting me use your phone." you stand, not really wanting to say goodbye but also lacking a reason to stay. he remains in his spot, seemingly now settled into this little corner of the café. it sort of suits him, this place. all cozy and slightly strange.

“happy to help.” you notice the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip as if deliberating whether or not to say anything further. but he doesn’t and you feel awkward just standing there by the table.

“I’ll, uh…” you could ask for his number. but that would be weird, right? he doesn’t really seem to have an interest, anyway. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“yeah. it was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he gives one more of those killer smiles and you turn around, almost bumping into a display of coffee beans before correcting yourself and heading back outside.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @la-vie-en-amour1 @reidsconverse @voidsfilm

[ttuesday]

Hellooooo, I absolutely adore your blog. I literally check your blog everyday for new stuff, your writing soothes my restless soul.

If you'd want to and have the time, could we get some jealous (and maybe a lil bit possessive) boys (preferrably like dutch, arthur or hosea) when reader has to turn up her charms for a job? xx If it's not your cup of tea I understand <3

Keep being you and have a great day!

ANON I LOVE THAT IDEA

The Mayor of Saint Denis was throwing a party and Angelo Bronte had invited Dutch to go. It was Hosea’s idea for you to come too, knowing that your charm and friendly demeanour would help you get useful information from the other guests. And so you, your sweetheart and some of the other fellers bought some fancy clothes and headed off to the party.

Arthur

Arthur knows the only reason you’re here and being polite is for the sake of the gang. You don’t actually want to be hanging around with all these high society folk, or at least he hopes you don’t.

Whenever Arthur sees you laugh at a joke or smile at another man, he can feel a small knot of jealous grow in his gut. He rolls his eyes and mumbles a few snarky comments. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t help himself.

 As ye leave the party, Arthur asks “Y’sure you don’t wanna stay, looks like you’re really enjoying yourself”. That night when you’re both back at camp and inside your tent, Arthur makes sure to please you.

 When you think back to this night, Arthur wants you to think of the two of ye in your tent, not the party. Afterwards while you’re both cuddling, he opens up about how he was feeling at the party and apologises for being rude.

Charles

Charles is a very relaxed guy. He understands that this is all part of the job. It's not like you wanted to charm all these people, it's something you were doing for the plan.

That doesn't mean he has to like it though. A part of him feels silly for getting jealous but seeing you smile and make each of the guests feel special gets under his skin. 

He stays close to you throughout the night in case you need some back-up. Charles wants to make sure he can be there for you within a second. Half of the time he's there, Charles is hoping neither of ye have to go to another one of these parties ever again.

When ye get back to camp, Charles gives you a big hug. Honestly, he was waiting to punch each and every person you talked to but he's glad he stayed calm and didn't act impulsively.

Dutch

Dutch is convinced he's stuck in a nightmare. What was he thinking making you go off and charm all these irrelevant people?! Looking back on it, he thinks it was a stupid plan but he won't admit that.

A mixture of annoyance and jealous builds in his stomach. He keeps a watchful eye on you as he goes around the party, making sure to know where you are at all times.

Eventually Dutch can't take it anymore and he wraps his arm around your waist. He stays with you for the rest of the party, making sure to give you kisses throughout the night so everyone knows you're with him.

When you enter his tent after the long night, Dutch's hands are immediately on your body. Dutch needs to touch every inch of you so be prepared for a longgg night.

John

John really didn't think he was the jealous type. He knew what your job was at the party but there was a massive difference in hearing that you're going to be charming people versus actually seeing you charm people.

John subtly follows you around the party and whenever an other guest flirts with you, John butts in and tells the guest they have something stuck in their teeth. As they quickly go to find a mirror, John mutters an insult about them before distancing himself for you again.

It's very obvious that John is jealous and on the ride back to camp, Arthur and Dutch make sure to tease him about it. He just huffs and rolls his eyes in response.

As ye settle down for the night, John says he's sorry for how he acted and that he knows he was being stupid. He needs a lot of cuddles and reassurance.

Micah

What kinda bullshit is this? There you are, all dressed up and looking like you should be one of those fancy cigarette cards but you have to talk to other people?

Micah's in a rage. He can't stand seeing you smile and laugh with these snobby jerks. Micah spends the majority of his time sulking around the party and pouting.

They're lucky security took everyone's weapons at the front door, otherwise Micah wouldn't shot every single person who spoke to you... yeah, he's quite possessive.

As the fireworks begin, Micah comes up next to you and tells you that Dutch need ye to go into the mansion to look for something. He leads you through the house until he stops in a quiet corridor. Yeah, Dutch didn't actually ask Micah to go look for anything, Micah just wants to fuck.

Hosea

Hosea’s done plenty of cons in the past. He knows how it goes and he knows that charming is the most efficient way to get information. Hosea's aware that this is a part of the job.

He trusts you too but Hosea's issue is with everyone else at the party. He doesn't trust them in the slightest. At first, Hosea tries to distract himself by talking to other guests and trying to get information on any upcoming stagecoaches or trains but he can't stop thinking about you.

Finally, Hosea thinks that Dutch's plan isn't worth it and decides to join you instead. He links arms with you and joins you in charming people. It's a lot easier that way cause you can both work together.

Deep down Hosea knows he joined you because he was feeling insecure and jealous but luckily it worked out well and he didn't even have to threaten anyone!

Javier

Javier doesn’t get jealous easily. At first he actually thought it was amusing that you had to charm the high class people of Saint Denis. He hoped that after you spent a few minutes charming people, that ye could spend the rest of the night together.

Unfortunately it wasn’t that simple and it was like more and more people wanted to talk to you. That was when Javier stopped seeing the amusing side of it and began to get more and more annoyed as the night dragged on.

Finally Javier snaps at someone after they interrupt him when he tried to talk to you. And now when people try to flirt with you, Javier pulls you in for a deep kiss so they get the hint and fuck off.

Javier tells Dutch that ye won’t be going back to camp and instead he pays for a hotel room for the night *wink wink*. Right now, Javier needs you and he wants to remind you of how great he can make you feel.

Bill

Bill is jealous within the first five minutes. You go up to the first guest and introduce yourself and Bill is already grumpy. He wandered over to Dutch a few times, asking if you need to be charming everyone and if he could alter the plan a little.

The last thing Bill wants to do is put the plan in jeopardy so instead of completely disrupting you, he hovers around where you are and tries to subtly listen to your conversation... or well, as subtly as Bill can be.

Slowly he edges his way into the conversation. The guests you're trying to charm, look over that the man who's awkwardly joined the conversation and who has a big cheesy smile on his face.

 Yeah your charm doesn't work great with Bill there too but it's sweet that he wants to stay close.

Sean

Sean acts cool. Yeah you go do your thing, Sean will gladly cheer you on. He was excited to wear a fancy suit and go to some high class party. Sean was convinced it'd be fun...

But then he actually sees you talking to a lot of other people and Sean starts to feel left out.

He tries to distract him by throwing the finger food into the fountain, stealing people's top hats, stacking the wine glasses on top of each other but Sean still looks over at you every few minutes.

When he was passing by you, Sean was convinced he heard someone flirting with you. Sean instantly jumps into action, trying to be intimidating and blurting out a couple of threats. Afterwards you lead Sean away and explain that the man was talking to his wife, not you.

[hotwings0203]

fighter kirishima who doesn't like it when other people even stare for one second at his partner, so then he just kills anyone who dares to stand less than 2ft from his darling 😌👍

Tw:noncon implication, implied murder

“Why’re you standing so far away babe?”

You’re not, he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist to the point of crushing your hips.

“‘M not, just couldn’t breathe.”

“Oh good, for a moment there I was worried you were looking at that guy again.

That guy referring to the blond haired weirdo who kept laughing and pointing at the losers of the ring like a maniac.

Right, like you were totally head over heels for the one weirdo in the entire basement.

Except your “boyfriend “ maybe. He could definitely take that title.

Well, maybe not weirdo. Maybe Possessive Controling Freak would be a better name for him, instead of Kirishima.

And just to drive the point home, he soothingly rubs his calloused hand up and down your arm while the next match rages on in front of you both.

It’s not soothing, on the contrary it seems like a threat.

He just amps it up from then on any time he feels like your attention is elsewhere or if he feels like other men are looking at you for a second too long.

First it’s taking on arm and tightly squeezing it. Then, he puts one leg of yours over his thigh much to your embarrassment.

Eventually he just picks you up and plops you on his lap. While he thinks he’s keeping other men at bay with this tactic, it’s doing the complete opposite.

Because these testosterone filled savages are quite enjoying the scene with your limbs being toyed with and thrown over a man like the rest of them, your ragdoll-maneuvered body a promise of something they might be able to one day get a taste of.

The entirety of the fight goes by dreadfully slow because all you can focus on is how long Kiri’s hands dip in and out of the crevice of your legs way too casually. His hands settle comfortably under your shirt and across your boobs, which can be seen by literally everyone when they catch a glimpse of an evident hand on your chest.

He prevents you from squirming too much with his limbs tightening around you and disapproving grunts to your discomfort. So you sit there, stewing with rage and humiliation.

Until a distraction appears.

In the midst of the next match brawling in the ring, a smaller fight breaks out amongst the raging spectators.

It only catches both your attention when the yelling starts getting close to your area and men start throwing fists and yelling until their faces tie beet-red.

Kirishima and you both crane your heads around to see the source of the commotion, but you realize quickly that it’s getting way too intense around you, so much so that men begin lifting chairs and falling over themselves in their own battles.

You try to get up but Kiri’s hands are wrapped so tightly around your midriff that you barely manage to dislodge his arm. He’s distracted and looking around curiously at the dangerous setting and you have to frantically tap his arm to indicate it’s time to go.

But he snaps out of it too late, and a body gets punched your way, his large mass descending on your weaker frame.

You shriek and try to lift your hands up to protect yourself, but it doesn’t work. You’re slammed into and knocked clean off Kirishima’s lap onto the floor laced with blood and bits of torn clothes.

There’s a loud ringing in your ears as you blearily get up and take in your surrounds, which seem to love in slow motion around you. You belatedly think that you must’ve hit your head on the concrete floor when you fell.

Your arms ache as you groan and lift yourself up on shaky elbows, the sounds around you swim in and out of your aching head when suddenly an open hand is thrust in front of your face.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry!”

Grimacing, you tilt your head up and see the same man who knocked you down. You’re in no condition to refuse help in such a volatile area however, so you gingerly lift your hand and grasp onto his open palm.

You find yourself being pulled up easily and crushed into the man’s body. It’s hard to push back but when you see how many bloody faces and broken limbs windmill around you decide it’s best to keep close to a safe space.

The man gently starts stepping over writhing bodies and lifting you up under your arms to ensure that you don’t trip and fall again while on your way to a clearer area.

You don’t resist, only looking up at him helplessly like a kitten being dragged by its mom from the scruff. His body is warm and toned, yet plush and comfortable to lean against when you need to. Your cranium still pounds, but your head clears a bit when you look into his surprisingly concerned grey eyes.

“You alright? Hit your head a little hard, huh? My bad.”

He sets you on a perch near the office and looks around, deeming it a less loud and crowded area for your health.

He says nothing, but you don’t sense any malice from him. He doesn’t move either though, he just leans an arm on the extension and puts another hand on his hip, scanning the screaming men and casualties as if he were looking out in a snowy field.

He might be protecting you, or looking for a good place to jump in and start swinging himself, you’re not sure.

But you’re grateful for his helpful presence, nonetheless.

And then suddenly your moment of reprieve is dismantled when you hear him frantically calling your name.

You see his head hair sticking up, spiky as ever while the top of his head bobs left and right, in circles and backwards as he tries finding you.

Your head starts to hurt again.

“Y/N! Where the hell are you?”

Eventually and unfortunately he sees your figure above the fray, and he swears you look like an angel-siting above this rifraff, your body perfectly intact unlike the rest of these thugs, your expression dazed and vulnerable like it did when you were choking on his co-

He sees the man next to you, and his vision shatters like glass when he takes in the proximity of him next to you.

Kirishima sees red.

“Hey, there you are cutie! I got scared I lost you for a sec’ there. Thanks for looking out for her man,” he smiles and shakes his hand with the steel-haired guy, crushing his grip a little too hard to be deemed grateful.

“No problem. The name’s Tetsutetsu. ‘Think I’ve seen you around here, you fight pretty good not gonna lie! When’s it gonna be my turn to match that strength in the rink?” He smiles deviously and knocks shoulders with you in jest.

While you smile uncomfortably and rub your now-bruising shoulder, Kirishima’s eye twitches at the contact and his smile starts straining as well.

But this is too easy to give up.

“Hey, that’s actually a really good idea. Why don’t we have our own little practice match after the shit here clears up?” He nods around to the ongoing pandemonium.

You look at him stricken, unsure of what he’s playing at. You’re not stupid, you can tell by his off body language that he’s not at rest or relaxed at all by this conversation.

The expression he’s making, while it might fool the himbo next to you, is extremely reminiscent of the faces he pulls when he chides gently in your ear to stop moving so fucking far away from him and soothes a hand over your head.

“Sounds good, and don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you.” The other man laughs heartily and kicks away a stray rolling body.

Kirishima merely grins gently. “For your sake, is give it my best.”

*************

He’s strapped you to the bed-check.

You’ve been spanked black and blue-check.

A lecture has been given to your sobbing body-check.

Ointment has been slathered on the bruises-double check.

And he’s out the door at exactly 9pm, jogging his way to the bar and down the steps to the basement as a light warm up. He considers calling an ambulance before-hand, but that would mean he’d give enough mercy to leave Tetsutetsu intact…and alive.

When he bounds down the rickety steps he finds that Tetsu is already there and lightly boxing a body bag that the newbies use for practice.

He has to hold back his snort and paint his usual cheery face on, but something tells him even the dim yellow light in this room would still show the dark emotion swirling in his ruby eyes.

“What’s up bro, you made it?”

“No, I’m still at home.”

Tetsutetsu laughs heartily and doesn’t catch onto the cold bite Kirishima’s words hold.

“You’re funny. ‘Wanna warm up-“

“-Nah, actually, ‘think I’m good. Let’s just get started, I’ve been waiting for this.”

“You got it boss.”

And without further ado they both shrug off their shirts in the hot basement and ready their fists in a protective stance, circling each other.

“Y’know, when I saw you next to my girl I fantasized about caving your face in,” a punch is thrown suddenly and Tetsu is thrown off guard by the surprising agility of the bully opponent and his words.

He practically eats the hit square in the nose, his head snapping back and immediately pouring blood from his nostrils.

He coughs and staggers before realigning himself the opposite end of the fighting circle. “Wha-? Why?” The victim sounds congested from the leaking blood but his focus is only on Kirishima’s change in expression.

“Yeah, and then I saw you knock shoulders with her too…maybe I’ll cut yours off and sell ‘em for a couple hundred, whaddaya think bro?”

This time when Kirishima aims for his face again he’s ready, and he quickly dodges and strikes his face fist out.

But what he doesn’t expect is the redhead to actually catch the fist in his own larger hand and hold it in midair. He also doesn’t react in time to pull his hand out and move back when Kiri’s other fist swings low and punches so hard into his stomach that he falls to the ground, hand still captivated by Kirishima’s.

He’s never seen a man with that kinda of face on while fighting. His eyes are narrowed and dark, his mouth is set in a thin like and his whole body is taut, as if holding back his own strength.

For the first time since he’s ever been in the basement, Tetsutetsu doesn’t to fight anymore.

“Look Kirishima,” he hacks and looks wildly at him. “I don’t know if you’re upset at me for something but you gotta chill out. You can’t catch my hands like that, that’s not how you’re supposed to fight-“

“You still think I give a shit how we’re supposed to fight? No ones gonna care about strategy or sportsmanship when you’re dead, Tetsutetsu.”

His last scream is so loud and so shrill that Kirishima thinks it’s a shame it wasn’t witnessed in a real match by paying spectators.