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hailsatanacab · 5 months

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a father's son

Happy holiday truce, @dashing-through-ecto!! I was your gifter this year, I hope you enjoy the fic! Based on your prompt: "Do you need any help, Dad?"

Word count 2.2k - ao3 link

Things have not been going well for Danny Fenton.

Not only did he fail in intercepting Lancer’s call home, so now Mom and Dad know about his latest grades—he didn’t even get enough answers for an F this time, not when he fell asleep within the first five minutes—but they also caught Jazz taking the trash out for him.

“That’s one of your chores, young man! Heaven knows you don’t have many of them, which is why you need to be responsible and actually do the ones that we give you! It’s just not good enough, Daniel James Fenton, do you hear me?”

The full name.

It’s not often he gets it, but it sucks each and every time he does.

What sucks even more is that now, with what little free time he has, he’s cleaning the lab. It’s just not fair!

Broken glass skitters along the floor as he sweeps it up into the dustpan, ectoplasm still clinging to the bottom of the beaker.

He can’t even goof off—can’t even use his powers to finish quicker—because his dad is sitting at the workbench tinkering with whatever his newest interest is.

Great. Looks like he’s stuck cleaning the boring, human way.

The lab is quiet, but it isn’t silent.

Ectoplasm drips, maddeningly, from the gloop stuck on the ceiling. That’s a form of torture, isn’t it? Danny’s pretty sure he’s heard that before, that the constant sound of water droplets will drive someone insane. He can relate, because this is certainly testing him.

Dad’s talking to himself, too, little murmurs about what he’s doing, where he should be soldering, how it should be working and why it isn’t.

Vaguely, Danny wonders what he’s working on. Sure, it’s probably some ghost thing, but that’s not all they do! His parents made some pretty great advances before the portal switched on and monopolised all of their thoughts.

Yeah, that might be wishful thinking, but stranger things have happened! You never know.

Every 30 seconds, the motor on the ecto-filter whirrs into life, syphoning off the excess, pure ectoplasm from the portal and filtering it into something less volatile. In theory.

Underneath everything, the portal hums.

A droning beat that pulses in the same rhythm as his heart. Sometimes, he catches himself staring at it, leaning closer as it calls to him.

It scares him.

“Shit!” his dad shouts, dropping the soldering iron with a loud clang.

It’s enough to knock Danny out of whatever daydream he’d lost himself in and he whirls around to see his dad sucking on one of his fingers.

They lock eyes, both widening as they realise what’s happened.

“Ah, I mean, suffering spooks! That really hurt…” He shoves his fingers back into his mouth and his shoulders droop as he considers Danny. “Don’t tell your mother.”

Danny laughs.

“Are you alright?”

“It’d take more than that to put Jack Fenton down! All good, Danno, don’t you worry,” he smiles back before shaking his hand out and turning back to whatever he was working on. “Or, I would be, if this hunk of junk was cooperating with me!”

“What’s up?” Danny asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

Normally, he likes to stay out of the lab, as much as he can.

Obviously, what Phantom does doesn’t count. Phantom can’t help but come into the lab, set ghosts loose into the Zone, trash whatever weapons his parents have got going on, sneak out into the Zone when he can for some much needed R&R. The ectoplasm just hits different there.

“I’m trying to repurpose this toaster, but the ecto won’t run smoothly through the wiring. I think it keeps getting cooked by the element.”

“Oh? Do you need some help?”

Danny doesn’t like spending time in the lab, because if he’s in the lab then he’s either Phantom and he’s trying hard not to be seen or heard, or he’s Danny and he’s being punished.

But his curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah, come here, have a look! Perhaps another Fenton brain can knock some sense into it!”

So, he does.

Hell, anything beats cleaning the lab.

“You’re trying to run it through here?”

Dad nods and shifts in his seat to give Danny a better view.

“But you can’t, because the ecto is tripping the heating element… which is way higher than a toaster has any right to be, wow. No wonder it’s destabilising the ectoplasm, that would destabilise anything.”

Danny pokes around the casing, wiggling the wires back and forth to get a better look at the absolute mess his dad has made of it all. Sometimes it amazes him that his parents' inventions work at all.

“That’s what I’m thinking! But it has to be that high so we can completely break down the ecto!”

“You want it to break down?”

“Yep!” Dad says, clapping him on the back hard enough that he wheezes. He grins down at him when Danny turns around reproachfully. “Think of it, boyo, if we could figure out how to flash fry that ectoplasm high enough so that it evaporates—which it should do, it’s goopy gross liquid, after all!—then you wouldn’t be stuck down here cleaning for so long! We could take it to the streets after a ghost fight and clean up the whole town!”

Well, it’s not a Nobel Prize level invention… Danny’s pretty sure at this point that his parents would be laughed out by the Nobel committee. But, a quicker cleaning of the lab does sound nice.

It would mean he’d be stuck down here a lot less.

Besides… It's interesting.

“What if we…” Danny trails off and pulls the metal frame towards him, grabbing the tweezers as he goes. Vaguely, he’s aware of his dad leaning over his shoulder, the weight of him watching is a comforting presence that he’s not felt in a long while.

The real trouble is that you need ectoplasm to affect ectoplasm, and that’s not going to work if the object of the game is to evaporate it.

So what if they don’t introduce the reactive ecto until the end?

He makes quick work of stripping down what his dad’s already done and starts again, this time focussing on keeping the heat contained separately away from the ectoplasm. Just as he’s piecing together a trigger to concurrently shoot a blast of ecto towards the heated tip, Dad exclaims as he realises where he’s going with it.

“Oh! Danny, you’re a genius! Look at that!” Dad laughs and squints closer at what Danny’s doing. “Just wait until your mother sees this, she’s going to be so happy!”

Danny can’t help but grin as he ductapes everything to a piece of toaster casing to give it the first test try. Dad’s enthusiasm is catching as he whoops when the first puddle of ectoplasm burns off in acrid smoke.

They spend another couple of hours perfecting it, welding a case together and branding it with the Fenton F.

It’s not pretty—but then again, when are his parents’ inventions?—a long stick with a cattle-prod-like taser at the end. Instead of electricity, it launches ectoplasm from one rod and superheats the other. When activated, all you need to do is touch the tip to a puddle and poof! It’s gone.

Danny shivers as he watches another pool go up.

But, no! He’s thinking about it wrong. It’s not a cattle-prod, it’s more like one of those sticks you see people using on the highway to jab at the litter on the floor. It’s for cleaning. It’s going to make his lab cleaning chores way easier! It’s—

“Danny, just look at it!”

Danny looks at it, and then back to his father’s face when he can’t bear to see the smoking ecto anymore. It’s painfully happy and Danny does his best to be happy, too.

“Here!” Dad shoves the contraption into Danny’s arms. “You use that and finish what you’re doing and then when you’re done—I can’t believe I’m saying this, galloping ghouls, I’m so happy, I’m working with my boy—we can get to work transferring it over to the Jack o’ Nine Tails! Imagine it, Danny, with one whip and that pesky poltergeist Phantom will be gone!”

Danny freezes.

It feels as if Dad’s just dumped a bucket of ice water over him.

“Poof! Up in smoke!”

The fumes are getting to him. That must be it. His head is swimming and his stomach is churning. There’s a ringing in his ears and it melds with the sharp, stinging whirr of ectoplasm sizzling. It pulses in time with the portal behind him.

He stumbles, almost goes down—almost throws up—but it doesn’t matter. Dad doesn’t see him, already turned away back to the work bench.

It doesn’t matter.

You know what, it’s okay! It’ll be okay, Danny can sneak back down here later tonight and he can undo it all, it doesn’t matter!

Take a deep breath, now, finish cleaning the lab, ignore Dad—it doesn’t matter—and get this over with. Being here makes his skin crawl, he needs to finish—

“I’m so proud of you, Danny.”

For the second time, Danny stops.

Dad doesn’t say anything else, just sits with his back to him, opening and closing his hand over a screwdriver with the Jack o’ Nine Tails splayed out in front of him.

It takes longer than Danny wants to find his voice, but he manages to croak out, “What?”

“I’m proud of you, Danno. I know this year hasn’t been easy for you, don’t think we haven’t noticed. Your mom and I have been talking about how you're doing at school. We're not blind. We know kids can be cruel, and that Dash Baxter… But we're so proud of you for not rising to it. We love you so much, Danny.”

A lump grows in Danny’s throat and his eyes prickle.

His fingers bleach white where they grip the Fenton Evaporator too tight.

“Look at what you can do when you try, Danny! This is the boy that I know, this is the Danny that I love. I’m so proud of what we’ve done here today. It’ll make the world a better place, just you wait! Now, come on, boyo, pass me that soldering iron and let’s really get stuck in!”

And… And Danny does.

With shaky limbs and tears threatening to spill, Danny reaches over and passes Dad the soldering iron, watching as he gets to work, and when his dad asks him to get his hands dirty—“Here, run this wire up the rope, there’s a good boy!”—he does.

Danny does it all and he does it well.

He sucks in a deep breath, swipes a hand over his eyes, and he helps his dad.

He laughs when Dad tells his stupid jokes:

“Quick! What’s red, white, and blue all over?”

“I don’t know, Dad, what’s red, white, and blue all over?”

“A ghost that we’ve beaten into oblivion!”

And he hopes that his mom is going to be just as proud as Dad says she will be when she sees what they’ve done.

It’s easy, really.

If he doesn’t think about it, if he tucks his mind away and just lets his hands get on with it, then he’s just helping his dad and he can do that. He can do it.

He can do it.

So, no, he doesn’t sabotage what they’ve built. He doesn’t add in a failsafe. He doesn’t loosen a few screws, or overload the element, or untwist a few wires.

Danny does his best and at the end of the day his dad holds up the new and improved Jack o’ Nine Tails and absolutely beams at him. A work of art, he calls it.

Danny doesn’t sabotage it then and he won’t sabotage it later, because it’s a work of art. This is what he and his dad built. Together.

Danny can’t help but grin back, happiness curling in his belly even as it gives a sickening lurch.

He doesn’t eat dinner that night, he can’t.

He stays downstairs long enough to present the new weapon to Mom—very pointedly ignoring Jazz’s look—and then he heads upstairs. There’s an English essay he needs to get started on, after all.

He doesn’t miss the look Mom and Dad share, the fond tenderness, the love, the hope, all directed at him.

He’s happy.

They’re happy.

They’re proud of him.

And despite it all, he had fun today!

When he lays down on his bed, he smiles and he can’t stop the laughter bubbling up as he thinks about his dad. At one point, he had been holding up a circular piece of metal he’d cannibalised from the lamp shade to his eyes, moving it back and forth as he pulled his funny faces, and some of that full belly laugh creeps back in as he remembers doing the same back.

He laughs so hard until he cries, and he cries, and he cries.

Today, he and his dad built a weapon.

Tomorrow, it'll be used on him, but that's okay.

It's okay because today, today his dad was proud.

#danny phantom #holiday truce #holiday truce 2023 #jack fenton #angst fic #hope you enjoy!! sorry it's slightly late 😬#and happy holiday truce!!!!

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blueparadis · 6 months

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MERCY ꕀ HIGURUMA HIROMI.

+. CWs —» f!reader, sub-dom portrayal,mention of bdsm relationship,age gap, f! & m!oral,angst undertones. 1k word count.

+. SUMMARY —» A little quickie before lunch wouldn’t ruin your appetite or would it ?

+. NOTES —» don't mind me realizing one fine morning that he got such a pu$$y eating nose\\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\ back to blog navigation. tags — @6-022-10-23 @orchid3a

At first he said he would like to return the favor but truth to be told it is now embarrassing, to some extent it is even tormenting; to be seated like this, legs folded and knees apart from each other as your hands rush on your barely clad body like dashing waves on shore. Your wet cunt against his panting mouth. It feels like he is snatching your soul out of your body whenever his mouth covers your cunt to suck off your cunt making your teeth voluntarily violate your puffy lips that has still the aftermath of the blow job you just gave to him a while ago being under his desk. Mr. Higuruma Hiromi is exceptionally kind today. Isn't he such a gentleman for doing this?

Yes. He is but that is just for today. He does not really show this kind of mercy. Either he makes you read the papers while making you sit on his lap and of course without your panties on. One pause or one stammer as you read he stops playing with you and dare you turn your head to look him in the eye, lest this wealthy criminal lawyer knows more than thousands ways to punish you than the Gods you pray to. Sometimes Hiromi even asks you to try some new outfits and just spend the day working, actually working. He likes this, the carefully crafted session where he is your dom, you are his sub and nothing else matters. Perhaps just one fact that how he is fully aware of your emotions towards him yet refuses to acknowledge it; it does not matter that you harbor feelings for him or the fact that whatever he is doing is a great specimen of unethical work, to some extent sabotaging the professional relationship between the two of you. It is almost like fetching a bucket of freshwater in the dawn from a pond when all the dirt has settled to the bosom after such a long lonely night.

And now, he is just holding your hips while his tongue is at work, lapping up on your bare cunt, slurping your juices as if he is quenching his thirst for ichor. His deft finger squeezes your cheeks every time you glide against his mouth, the tip of his nose grazing the apex of your vagina.

“mmm-mnhhh” he hums sternly and you can feel it in your gut that he is not getting the full taste of you. Why are you moving so much? You glance at him in the eye as your knees come in contact with the skin of the couch. Hiromi closes his eyes after his lips stretch to a beautiful crescent full of pride; and once his eyes are closed his mouth and tongue get more devoted in distilling your climax from your body. Your back arch, hands roam all over your igniting skin and then you push forward clamping around the hand rest of the couch as his tongue does one final full lap against your lips before sucking on your bud blacking your eyes for a second and then, it stills.

The climax fades and you back away giving him space to sit but your back touches his folded legs and when you look up to him, there is no ounce of further longing, rather a famished look. Now, that’s rare.

Clearing your throat, you say, “I’m sorry Sir.” because you dare not stare too long in those eyes unless. . .

“It’s okay.” Hiromi quips. “You can look at me. You have earned it.” but you still do not. What if it's one of his tricks? Or a test? Or maybe he is just teasing you.

Your eyelids flap like the wings of a drowning bird as his arm slowly approaches you, to chin your face up, his face inclining towards yours, lips thread apart whispering, “It's okay. You can kiss me now.”

You still hesitate ; your lips do not yet all it does it to part. You can smell yourself on him. His wet lips and tip of the nose glistening against the light. “I would like you to kiss me now.”

You lean to kiss him; his hand firmly rests on your bare chest stopping you, his knuckles are still flushed. You gulp and murmur, “Thank you, Sir.” Ahhhh! Those eyes. Those beautiful galactic eyes that once looked up to him with so much respect are now filled with tears. He rubs his thumb over your cheeks. It is as dry as a desert. It is fascinating how you do not let those tears fall from your eyes. Never.

“ please, i would like you to kiss me, y/n.” he murmurs almost like a prayer and then kisses your cheeks before you kiss him back. Your hands are still hesitant to touch him, his collar to deepen the kiss but when you feel him pulling away your fingers take root along his neck grazing back to his undercut. His sudden touch on your breasts remind you how your top still clustered around your waist. You welp; you moan as the kiss continues so does his hand kneading your boobs but it does not stop there. He pinches your nipple, harder than before, makes you flinch and breaks the kiss only to ask, “Do I have any meeting scheduled within the next 30 mins?”

He sounds desperate. He has never been someone to return the favor instantly. Why now? Not to mention, he rarely forgets meetings appointments. He does not really need a secretary for that. You are here as his apprentice that he picked because you shined like a pink pearl in the bed of empty oysters.

“Yes.” you lie. “Would you like to reschedule it?” You quip quickly before the guilt starts to thicken and mixes with shame.

“No.” Hiromi zips up your top. His fingers linger under your chin for a moment before he says, “you know,” the tip of his thumb grazes your lower lip stretching it downwards. “I can always detect a lie no matter how much I don't want to, no matter how much the truth hurts to know than to believe in a lie.”

You stutter as you try to apologize. “I just—he immediately keeps his index finger over your lips but does not touch you.

“confused with timings of other meetings?” he finishes your line of thought. Leaning forward he whispered into your ears, “I wanna let this one slide.” Retreating he meets your eyes, hands resting on the couch, him leaning away from you. “I don't wanna fight ‘this’ — he swings his index finger between you and him as he finishes, “ anymore.”

Your eyebrows jump. Fear, surprise and joy rush inside your heart all at once. There is a few moments of silence before he exclaims in his stern ordering voice, that he generally uses in court sessions. “Get ready. We're going out for lunch.”

You get up and walk away to the restroom while fixing your skirt. ‘don’t wanna fight this anymore’ What a joke! There is nothing to fight. Mercy has never been so brutal before.

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ipostwhatiwant1202 · 2 months

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More Boyfriend Headcanons: Donnie Edition

• "my head hurts." "aw sweetie, i'm sorry. go lay down." "really?" "dr. donnie is in the house."

• please help him keep his glasses clean

• you're more than welcome to sit on his lap while he works

• forehead kisses for days

• please ask him questions about what he's doing, he loves educating you

• can't really cook but makes very good coffee (if you drink it)

• insomniac so usually he'll nap with you instead of sleeping with you at night

• science pick up lines that you may (or may not) understand but it's cute cause it's him

• stares respectfully

• will call you princess if he's annoyed at you

• call him donatello and he gets very nervous cause he knows you're mad

• silent treatment? okay, have fun trying to crack the virus code that randomly got on to your phone or laptop

• trying to get your attention? stare intensifies

• loves the feeling of your skin, it's just so soft, expect constant arm caresses

• you have homework? you have your very own personal tudor

• "having a bad period? i know just the right temperature to help with cramps."

• "don't use that razor on your face, use this kind. your skin won't break out."

• "you look so cute when you're tired."

• "no, don't give me that face. y/n! ugh, fine, we can do that."

• if he's feeling playful, he will start messing up your hair

• door dashes your favorite snacks to you

• fixes everything around your apartment

• the reason why you had to buy a longer couch (he's 6'8, he needs to be comfy)

• stomach sleeper so do with that what you will

• churrs in his sleep

• not the greatest hygiene in the world so you will have to force bathe him at times

• tv show binges for date nights

• giant puppy when excited

• texts you throughout the day to let you know he's thinking of you

• makes you little trinkets

• compliments, compliments, compliments

• shows off his tech/fighting skills cause he can

• hand holding is his favorite

• no problem getting you tampons/pads if you get periods

• no problem helping you tuck/bind if you're transitioning

• therapist and sounding board in one

• tries really hard to balance his work, brothers, and you but sometimes has poor execution. this can lead to arguments but he's trying

• disorganized organized and it's amazing how he's survived this long

• chronic apple juice drinker

• sometimes misses emotional ques but tries his best to stay intune with your moods

• when he does get mad, he shuts down, so if it isn't a fight with you, don't take it personal. he'll open up eventually

• loves hugs and will just hug you randomly

• you said 'i love you' at the same time

#rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt ask blog #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #ask blog #tmnt 2003 #tmnt imagine #tmnt headcanons

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 6 months

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Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour.

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood.

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head.

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning.

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong.

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-"

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?"

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over."

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him.

Even if she tied it to one condition.

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat.

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi.

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends.

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel."

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should.

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking.

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?"

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday.

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph."

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

This gets him a huffed laugh.

"He'd love this place, it's really cool."

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard.

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself."

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit.

"Listen, your highness …"

"Steve is fine."

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick."

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly."

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?"

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged."

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh.

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets."

Eddie frowns.

"Dustin as in the kid or …"

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon."

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way."

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow."

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains.

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?"

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number."

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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sl-vega · 4 months

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✧It's a Date Then✧

Pairing: Itoshi Rin x Reader

Genre: fluff

Synopsis: Just Rin trying to ask his crush out last minute

The moment the bell rang, Rin sprang from his desk, grabbed his backpack, and burst into a sprint.

Fifteen minutes. He needed to leave for the game in fifteen minutes. That meant he had exactly fifteen minutes—well, more like ten, since he still needed to get his stuff from his locker—to find you, and ask you to the Spring Formal.

Of course I had to leave this for the last minute, he groaned silently, rushing through the hallway. The Spring Formal was tomorrow night. And he’d had so many chances to ask you. The assembly earlier this week where the two of you ended up sitting next to each other (and where your hands brushed his!). That time he saw you at a home game. All of those moments where he stole glances at you in the lunchroom or passed by you in the halls.

But each and every time, he could never seem to tell you

Rin wasn’t dense. He knew what people thought of him. He knew that he was always being compared to his oh-so-perfect older brother.

You, though… everyone adored you.

Not in the way where you were hot enough to get away with being obnoxious or some shit. People liked you because you were nice, kind, and selfless. You took his breath away sometimes. He thought you were incredible.

What am I even doing? He thought. There were probably loads of guys lining up to ask you out. Plus he didn’t even like dances, so what reason would you have to choose him?

He considered backing out, as he slowed himself down. If you said no, it would’ve been a waste of time trying to track you down. No, he told himself. He wasn’t quitting now. So what if you said no? He had the game to distract him later.

But God, if you said yes he thought. He’d finally have a chance with you. All those times where he's caught himself staring at you, all those times where he’d be grinning like an idiot when he thought about your smile… Maybe something could actually come from all that.

Rin picked up the pace again as he ran to your classroom, hoping that maybe you stayed back to help with cleanup, knowing you, you probably did.

When he ran into the classroom, he didn’t see you, rather, he saw someone else.

“Hey Rin, looking for someone?”

Of course Isagi of all people had to be in here. But for you, he could resist wanting to wipe that smug-ass look off his face for now.

Of course Isagi knew what Rin thought of you, it was pretty easy to notice his ever-stoic teammate blushing and tripping over his words around you.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, Isagi said “She’s outside, she asked me if I knew where you’d be, she’s waiting for you by the bus.”

Rin was silent for a second, considering how to react.

“Thanks…”

“What was that?~”

“Shut up.”

Rin dashed out of the door rushing outside. When he got to the parking lot, he saw you. You were clearly looking for someone. At some point you stopped pacing around, you looked dejected, it was clear the person you were looking for wasn’t in there. He saw you turn around and when the two of you made eye contact, your face lit up.

God you were so cute. He could’ve sworn his heart almost gave up on him.

“Hey Rin!”

You smiled at him, beaming.

It was now or never

“H-hey” Fuck, of course he stuttered

“There’s something I want to ask you” the two of you said at the same time.

Rin turned bright red, and you giggled.

“You first,” you said with a chuckle.

He breathed in and out. God I probably look really pathetic right now he thought.

“So the Spring Formal is tomorrow, and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me?” he sped up the last bit, he felt his voice getting higher as he asked you the question.

You smiled.

“Of course I’ll go with you Rin.”

He had to resist pumping his fist then and there, he already made a total fool of himself.

“So it’s a date then?” you asked.

“Totally” Rin responded, trying to sound casual. He heard your phone buzz.

“Sorry I need to get going” you said as you looked down at your phone. Rin could’ve sworn he heard some disappointment in your voice. It gave him a small bit of hope that you felt the same way.

Before you turned around to leave, you gently pecked his cheek. “Good luck with your game by the way.” you said, with your face slightly flushed. You waved goodbye as you walked away.

It took him a second to register what happened. Then, it hit him. First of all, his crush agreed to go to the dance with him, second of all you kissed him.

A date huh?

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #rin itoshi x you #isagi yoichi #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year

Text

♡ ａｔｏｍｉｃｂｌｏｎｄｅ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Comforting your boyfriend after he gets a new look gets you into trouble but the good kind.

♡ Genre: smut w/ a dash of fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.4kish

♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know better), creampie, a lil spanking, scratching, nibbling, some rough play (nothing major), pet names (baby, my girl, etc).

♡ A/N: Mingi's wrecking me and I am not okay. Just FYI.

@anyamaris save me from myself

“You hate it” Mingi sighs, staring at his choppy blonde hair in the mirror. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a pair of scissors to his hair. He had no plan going into it. Only that he needed to do something…anything…different to get out of his own head. But you can see it all over his face that he's second-guessing it. Stepping into the bathroom, you dodge the clumps of fire-red hair scattered across the tiles, to get a closer look at your boyfriend’s new hair. “I love it” you smile sweetly, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Mingi watches you in the mirror for a moment, skeptical. He tousles his hair, trying and failing to style it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.” You grab his arm, turning him to face you. “Hey, look at me,” you say, momentarily losing yourself in those gorgeous pools of sable he calls eyes, “When have I ever lied to you?” Mingi cracks a faint smile, his lips pressed together to keep him from full-on cheesing. “Never.” You play with his hair a bit, gathering them into small spikes. “Exactly. I think it looks pretty hot. I’d definitely throw my panties at you.”

Your comment gets a laugh out of him precisely as you intended. All you ever want to do is see that adorable smile of his. It’s your favorite thing in the world. Sometimes Mingi gets down on himself, wondering if he is, in fact, good enough in one way or another. When you feel that way, doubt weighing heavy on your shoulders, he makes sure to remind you how special you are. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow” he likes to say. A small reminder that you were, are, and always will be perfect in his eyes.

Pinching his cheeks, you plant a quick kiss on his peachy lips. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, remember?” Mingi nods, feeling all of the blood rush to his cheeks. He turns back to the sink, rubbing his cheeks to chase that rosy hue away. “Anyway…” he mumbles, shifting his focus to cleaning up his mess. “Anyway?” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’m glad we could have such a touching conversation. I have to get started on dinner. I’m out of here.” You walk off with your arms folded across your chest and your nose in the air. As fake offended as a girl could ever be.

You make it a few steps down the hall before Mingi’s behind you, his arms around your chubby figure as he trails kisses along your neck. “What was that you were saying about throwing your panties at me?” You giggle, your body wriggling against his, “That’s what you got out of what I said? Really?” You never wear pants around the house, a habit he’s grateful for when he easily squeezes your fluffy thighs. It tickles enough that you twist away from him, stumbling backward. “Mingi…I have things to do!” He raises an eyebrow at you, taking one step forward for each one you take back.

“So do I.” “Aah!” you squeal, being pulled into an intoxicating kiss. Even with your eyes closed, paralyzed by the artful way his tongue dances with yours, you’re seeing stars. Holding you firmly by the hips, he guides you into the bedroom without even looking. Your shirt’s being pulled up over your head before you make it through the doorway with his following right behind. When he gets like this he has a one-track mind. Nothing else matters. He only wants one thing and it’s you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you run a hand across his lean chest, the other palming his thick bulge through those godforsaken gray sweatpants.

An invention by the devil if there ever was one. Mingi’s knees nearly buckle from the unexpected friction. Each time you brush your palm against him he gets harder and the warmth between your legs intensifies. By the time his sweatpants are at his ankles, his leaking tip on your tongue, he’s throbbing. Placing your tongue on the underside of his head, you lick upward, collecting his precum on your tongue. Mingi pets your cheek, watching intently as you take him into your mouth, your warm, tight lips hugging his length with no room to spare. “So…fucking…beautiful,” he says, each word broken by the flutter of your cheeks.

There’s something about feeling the pulsing veins of his cock through your cheek, your head rocking back and forth, that he can never get enough of. You gag the tiniest bit when he hits the back of your throat, knowing how insane it drives him when you take more than you can handle. He can already sense that familiar feeling prickling in his stomach. Shit, why were you so good at this? Mingi grabs you by the neck, not too hard, just enough to rip himself from your mouth with a wet suctioning noise. You look up at him so innocently, proud of being able to push him to the brink that quickly.

“Bend over” he commands, your gentle giant replaced with something more domineering. You slide back on the bed, spreading your legs to expose your moisture. “Only if you say please.” Without a word, he reaches out to stroke your clit through the thin lace. Your breaths grow shallow when his fingers push the fabric to the side, sinking into you until his knuckles are flush against you. “Please” he whispers, rotating his wrist at just the right angle to have you pushing against him for more only to snatch his fingers away, “Pretty…pretty…please”. “Mmhmm” you whine, tossing your panties behind you and getting on all fours.

This view of you is so tempting. That juicy ass of yours sticking out. Your pussy so wet and desperate to take him. Taking a deep breath, he gets his head together. Not yet. A marvelous sting radiates through your body when he palms your ass with a slap, pushing you forward to lap at your entrance. “Mingi, fuck, yes” you’re moaning and he’s thrusting his tongue into you. He brings his fingers back up to massage between your petal-soft folds. Each time your body quivers, pert nipples dragging against the bed heightening your pleasure, it only deepens his hunger for you. The way he’s devouring you, drinking you down like a man who hasn’t had water in days, has you screaming every filthy word you know into the sheets.

Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it. Motherfucker. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me” you cry out, nearly throwing a tantrum, an explosion brewing in your core. You feel his husky laugh vibrate against you. “What was that?” he taunts, flipping you onto your back and climbing on top of you. You lick yourself off of his lips, dragging him into a kiss. “Fuck…me” you moan down his throat. He drives into you, your body immediately erupting into shivers as your walls clamp around him. Your world's shattering. Your heart's racing. Is he trying to kill me? The room’s spinning. You’re lightheaded. I might be dying. Worth it.

“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he’s almost singing, nibbling at your bottom lip. Your nails digging into his back is as close to an answer as he’s gonna get and it’s enough for his motions to grow harsher. Your ears are ringing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Such a mess you’re making creaming all over him like this. “That’s it, baby. Mmm” he coos, keeping his pace even as the overstimulation tears you apart, but that doesn’t last long. Soon his motor skills go to hell and he’s pouring into you, whispering praises into your cleavage.

Your bodies go limp together, your muscles as strong as a pot of boiled spaghetti. Mingi flops down beside you, struggling to catch his breath. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your panties near your head. You pick them up, throwing them on his head. “There, I threw my panties at you.” “I’ll…treasure…these…forever” he pants, twirling them around his finger. You cozy up to him, resting your head on his chest. “You know, that’d be a nice color on you.” “Hmm?” You gesture towards your panties, “The pink.” Mingi stares at them, weighing his options. “Pink” he sighs, kissing you on the bridge of your nose, “I like it.”

#mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #ateez x y/n #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x reader #ateez x you #chubby smut #plus size smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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sylix-royalty · 1 month

Text

I’m getting back into writing, so have a Hotch/Reid snippet!

can… can i have a hug? please?

And a little bit of

oh, sweetheart- come here.

With a dash of

how long has it been since someone hugged you?

Type: Angsty Fluff

Warnings: Kinda just sad, brief mention of drugs

Spencer was very obviously the most touch starved of the group. It wasn’t to no fault of his, not really. It was clear he didn’t prefer physical contact most of the time, but Aaron wasn’t stupid. Aaron knew that despite Spencer’s sensory issues and mild germaphobic tendencies, he really just wanted to be hugged sometimes.

It was more obvious after some cases, when his arms wrapped around himself as he sat alone on the back of the plane, curled up as staring out of the window rather than reading whatever book he’d already read 7 or 8 times that week. It was only Wednesday after all.

It was less obvious after others, the itch of his hands as he read, how they’d twitch before he’d read a page. Aaron noticed, but he wasn’t sure that the others did, too careful of Spencer sensory. And Spencer clearly didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire of his own mind by his need of physical contact. But, Aaron wasn’t stupid. He was a profiler for a reason. But he wasn’t just going to jump down Spencer’s throat like that, putting him on the spot would be unhelpful and most likely backfire.

So, Aaron watched more intentionally. Trying to give an obvious sign to Spencer that he was here for him, should Spencer need him. It took a while, longer than Aaron liked to admit, but finally Spencer came into his office after hours.

The case had been a bad one. Having to deal with not only children, but Spencer was taken as a hostage and belittled so bad that Aaron was on the verge of shooting the man just to make him shut the hell up for good. Of course he couldn’t, that would risk his job, and more importantly Spencer’s life, but the thought definitely crossed his mind.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Spencer asked softly, and Aaron nodded slowly.

“Stay as long as you need,” he said gently, trying not to use that boss tone he knew he had. Spencer nodded, noting the attempt, and sat on the couch, curled up with his arms around himself once again, staring at the wall.

Aaron worked in silence, not going to push or pry answers out of the younger. He knew Spencer was struggling, and he had a terrible reputation when it came to asking for help. But Aaron hoped he was slowly working through that.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” Spencer whispered, finally. “You don’t… you don’t see me as a… drugged up, ratty—“

“No, Spencer,” Aaron cut him off, not allowing Spencer to repeat the words of the UnSub. “I don’t see you like that. No one does.”

“I do,” Spencer whispered, “I feel like that, sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if everything’s worth it.”

“It’s all worth it,” Aaron whispered.

“You would say that,” Spencer whispered, and Aaron set his pen down.

“Meaning?” Aaron asked without trying to sound offended or offput.

“Meaning you see me,” Spencer explained. “You see the man I’m trying to be. You… you understand… who I am in a way that most other’s can’t.”

“I’m perceptive,” Aaron reasoned.

“Yes,” Spencer agreed. “But you also care.”

“This team cares about you,” Aaron reasoned.

“They do,” Spencer nodded. “But they care so much about one thing, something you’ve been… overlooking lately.”

Aaron blinked.

“You’ve been staring at me, after cases. Reading me. I see your eyes. I feel them.”

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, that wasn’t my intention,” Aaron promised.

“No, I know,” Spencer promised. “I just…” he inhaled slowly, his arms falling from where they were wrapped around him. “Can I have… have a hug? Please?”

Aaron exhaled slowly from where he sat, finally hearing the words come from Spencer’s mouth almost made him jump out of his chair. He still moved a bit too quick, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind or care as he quickly got off the couch, hearing Aaron’s gentle “oh sweetheart, come here,” and met Aaron halfway, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s shoulders, and Aaron’s arms around his waist.

Spencer almost broke right there. But Aaron held him up strong, as per usual. He kept his hold for as long as Spencer needed, or wanted, which was longer than he originally calculated.

“When was the last time someone hugged you?” Aaron whispered into his ear.

“Too long,” Spencer whispered, voice broken and scraggly as he pushed his nose into Aaron’s shoulder.

“Don’t let it ever be that long again,” Aaron whispered.

“I’m here, Spence. I’m right here.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotchreid #spencer reid #heid #Sylix’s Little Snippets

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jamisonwritestf2trash · 4 months

Note

hiiii hiiii!!! was curious :3 how's it gooinnnng?? uh, feeling booooooorooooooored got any fun headcanons you have floating around the space station?? :3

It's going well enough, Anon! I finally got around to this! Sorry it took me so long, I've been having a hard time doing things. But never mind that! Here's a mixed bag of headcanons!

————————————————————

Medic can make a killer hot chocolate. The only issue being, he will NOT elaborate on why he's so happy and eager to make you one.. He'll hand you the most beautifully decorated hot chocolate, but he stares at you with the most terrifying smile, staring through your soul. You should drink it, though, what's the worst that can happen.

————————————————————

Speaking of Medic. This man would be a menace at Diner Dash. I can not explain. He'd just be so good at it. Put him in endless mode, and he'd play it for hours, you could not get him to put it down.

————————————————————

Speaking of video games, Scout is insane at Mario Kart. He will kill you on Rainbow Road, you will not win against him, he's a maniac. He mains Peach. Also, funny enough, even though he has so many siblings, none of them would play Mario Kart with him. He may have teared up because Pyro asked to play with him.

————————————————————

You know what, I'll just drop everyone's Mario Kart mains and their second option with no explanations!

Demo would main Yoshi, Dry Bones being his second

Engie would pick Daisy, dying on this kill. Um, as a second pick I get Lakitu vibes.

Heavy would choose Bowser, Luigi being his second

Medic switches between the princesses, but mainly Rosalina, King Boo being his second.

Scout is a Peach main ONLY, if he is alone! (One time, he messed up and picked Peach before anyone else could and was very embarrassed.) If he's playing with others, he picks Mario, Larry being his second.

Sniper doesn't care. He'd probably let someone else pick for him. He normally gets a princess character, but he doesn't mind.

Spy is always picking rose gold Peach, regardless of Scout's mocking. He doesn't need a second pick because he'll get pissy about it.

Soldier doesn't have a set main, but I feel like he'd pick any of Bowser's kids.

Pyro is a Shy Guy main, and I am so normal about it, Bowser Jr. Is its second pick.

None of them really fight over mains though, the all normally get the character they want.

————————————————————

Totally away from all of that. I think Spy listens to classical music, and Scout also likes classical music so one time, Scout heard it from Spy's room and just came in, starting to make fun of him, but ended up just... sitting with Spy. I think a lot of their bonding is nonverbal.

————————————————————

Hey, I'm doing another speaking of bit, Spy has a habit of showing up at the exact moment someone needs something, with the item. Medic needs a coffee? Oh well, Spy just happened to be there with one. Scout's looking for something? Spy just found it! How strange. He always acts like its such an inconvenience, this is the only way he can show love.

————————————————————

Scout, Sniper, Medic, and Soldier all have sensory and texture issues.

Scout will gag at the thought of eating puddings and jellos and can't stand flashing lights. Sniper hates bright lights and hates the texture of anything slimy. Medic is overwhelmed by noises in crowds and can't stand sticky foods. Soldier has issues with fabrics and tags and can't stand soft/smooth.

————————————————————

Back to Spy again, I think he really likes the smell of lilacs and vanilla, I don't know why.

————————————————————

Scout once ran out of Bonk, Medic offered him a tea. Medic and Scout drink tea together when one of them has a bad day.

————————————————————

Engie collects rocks. He's just always been a fan. Sometimes, he'll sit outside the base, looking at the ground just searching for pretty rocks. He's given some to Pyro before, and now Pyro goes and sits with him sometimes.

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Sniper's happiest moments in life are genuinely sitting in a dark room, not talking, just sitting with someone he cares about. He finds the presence of someone more comforting than words.

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You know those gimmick blogs that can identify something from one picture? Heavy can tell you exactly what book any quote is from.

————————————————————

Pyro, Demo, and Soldier collect fireflies together sometimes.

Anyways! That's all I have for now. Sorry, they aren't anything major or great. But writing them made me smile, so thank you for that, anon!

I'm hoping I'm finally back to writing because this reminded me how fun it is.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 headcanons

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southangel · 3 months

Note

Hello! I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could do general dating head cannons for Craig? Both sfw and nsfw?? Thank uu

Craig SFW and NSFW HCs

Warnings: 18+ ahead, MDNI, nsfw

Notes: Gender-Neutral, hope I did him justice. 🙏

SFW

Having Craig as your boyfriend, you will never know what he’s thinking.

He loves you, but at the same time he looks so unfazed.

Craig would either listen to R&B or Metal, no in between.

If you’re ever sitting next to him or just close enough in general, he’ll literally force an earbud into your ear and make you listen with him.

He definitely likes cookies, make cookies with him and he’ll be so happy.

Craig would sometimes flip you off, he feels a little bad about it though since you can’t tell whether he’s serious or not, you’ve gotten used to it.

If you ever want to do trends or tiktoks with him, you have to DRAG Craig or do multiple favors in return.

He really is not willing to do anything.

Craig would for sure prefer savory foods. Buy him anything with tons of salt and he’ll literally love you forever.

Craig would probably kiss you anywhere BUT your lips just to be that kind of annoying, just take his hat in return though.

When he kisses you for real, it’s quick but passionate, enough to hold to over.

I kind of see Craig as a little protective over you, but not too much.

The most he’ll do is wrap an arm around your shoulders while you’re talking to something, staring at the other person.

Craig would let you sleep on his shoulder, only if you’re sitting next to him on the bus and you haven’t been annoying that day.

He would sleep talk in bed, not knowing that you’re wide awake up late and listening to all this, you wanted to record some of it.

Craig really does know what you like, door-dashing you your favorite food when he can’t come over and see you.

“Do you like this song? It reminds me of you.”

NSFW

Craig is the type of guy to finger you right in front of his family and get away with it, he’s just lucky like that.

He would DEFINITELY tease you, he’s mean about it too, especially if you’re practically whining under him and he just laughs at you.

Craig would shove you into a random closet and fuck you, just for fun or whenever he feels like it, he would not be ashamed at school either.

I don’t think he would be loud, maybe a few grunts or moans, but Craig isn’t really loud in general.

Craig is in between love-making and fucking, I don’t think he’s really on either side, not even leaning.

He isn’t really kinky, but if he finds out that you are then he’s using that for his own advantage.

Craig loves dirty talk, no way he doesn’t.

I imagine him propping you up on his lap, straddling him while he plays whatever brain rot video game is on his TV

Craig would be a Dom or Switch, I don’t see him as a Bottom at allll.

I don’t think he would jack off or masturbate, unless you were gone for too long..

He loves running his hands down your body, but he loves your reaction when he does it even more.

When he fucks you, Craig is most definitely influenced by his emotions, he also gets turned on by you being annoyed.

“Dude, you can’t just try fucking me while i’m on call with my friends..”

#south park x reader #south park #south park x y/n #craig tucker x reader #craig tucker #south park smut #craig south park

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theanimekid · 2 years

Text

Sir... We have a problem!

Sung Jin-Woo X Pregnant Reader

Synopsis: The reader is going into labor, her husbands not there to take her to a hospital, and there's a thunderstorm.

Warnings: Angst to Fluffy and funny

F/n: Friends name

It all happened within a blink of an eye

You were sitting alone with your friend in your shared apartment. All laughs and giggles as the two of you watched your favorite tv comedy show as the storm raged on outside. You sat down on the side of the sofa with a bag of popcorn on top of your swollen belly as your friend sat on the side of the couch. Your F/n chattered as the raindrops hit the window. But for a moment, you thought about your husband. Even though he's the Shadow Monarch, he's still human, and sometimes...just what if...

"Y/n, You okay?" Your F/n Asked while she had food shoved in her mouth. You snapped herself back to reality. " Oh yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to think," You reassured her as she reached for the cup in front of her only to find it empty. She was going o head to the kitchen, but you stopped her. "Please allow me," You spoke softly, as she'd nearly struggled it lift herself off the couch. "No way. I'm letting my pregnant friend go and get me something to drink. Just sit back down and rest." But you had already got up from the sofa. " Hey, I'm not defenseless... just heavily pregnant." You placed your hand on your giant tummy and sighed. "Tell that to overprotective shadow husband." She added with a playful, sarcastic comment. You tapped her shoulder as she walked back to her seat. You swayed into the kitchen, humming to the music inside your head. As you were about to fill the cup, your stomach rumbled. You sighed. " It would seem you are not satisfied, little one."

This all went by so quickly. From the day you informed him you were pregnant, it was as though he fell in love with you all over again. You remember how he spun around in circles, tears of happiness in his eyes, chiming: I'm going to b a father. Even his shadows screamed with joy, mostly Beru. The fridge opened as you reached for the pack of strawberries. Before you could even grab them, a sharp pain hit your belly. Dropping the cup and shattered it on the ground. F/n shot up from the sofa and dashed into the kitchen. " Hey, what the- Oh My God!" She screamed as she instantly rushed to your side. " Baby...Baby, it's coming." Y/n groaned at another sharp pain hitting her again.

" I thought you said The baby was coming in two weeks!"

" well, the baby said now! And, I believe they get to choose-" You screamed, the contractions are really are a pain. Tears started to fall from your face. Your friend helped you from the kitchen and took you to the bedroom. The storm roared and boomed as the raindrops came heavier. F/n grunted as she placed you gently on the bed and pulled back the curtain. Seeing the heavy rainfall and twisted winds, " Damnit, there's no way in hell we'll make it to a hospital at this rate, the storm coming harder than I thought." She covered the window, " It looks like we're gonna need some assistance," She sighed as she took off her button, short sleeve shirt, revealing the black tank top. You took deep breaths to not think about the pain. But every time you did, it shot back at you like lightning.

"There is...one way," You added as your friends helped you sit up on the pile of pillows she set behind you.

"Come out."

The shadow moved from under you, forming one of the high orcs your husband placed in your shadow before you left. He stared at you with very uneasy and worried eyes, staring at you confused. You tried your best to clarify the situation. " Look…right now… I'm going into labor…" You whined, " Tell your master to…come home now…If he's in the middle of fighting the boss…W0ooo…." You sucked your bottom lip as the pain worsens." Alright, I have an idea." F/n exclaimed as she grabbed three knuckle braces and positioned herself on a nearby wall. F/n made circular motions as the glowing portal opened from the wall. " Just…please, yell at him to get his attention if…you must…Now Go!" He nodded and submerged into the darkness. The portal closed after Jin-ah and her mother stepped through. F/n clarified the circumstances.

"Ready yourselves, ladies. It is going to be a long night." A strike of lightning reflected across the grey atmosphere.

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

The shadow soldier reemerged from out of the shadows in the dungeon. To see his king and the rest of the soldiers finishing off the monsters. HE puffed his chest as he took a deep inhale. And shouted echoing throughout the dungeon.

"THE QUEEN'S IN LABOR!"

Everyone went silent for about 10 seconds before yelling back.

" WHAT!?!?"

Jinwoo was now forming with questions while shaking his soldier like a maraca. " Is she okay?" the baby okay?" " Are My Babies okay?!"

" Yes...but no. The Queen is in a lot of pain."

" Have the contractions started yet?!" Jin-ho added in a panicking tone. He looked at him blankly with bug eyes and scratched the back of his bald head, " What are contractions?" Before Jin-ho could answer, Jinwoo stormed out of the dungeon on Kaisel, leaving some shadow soldiers to help take the monster's corpses away from the dungeon.

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

Jinwoo arrived safely at his home, drenched and completely soaked while he almost busted the door open. " Y/N-ah?" He called out, and you screamed in reply. It's coming from the bedroom. HE rushed to the bedroom with fear in his eyes. Please be okay, please be okay. The door flew open as he stormed in. Only to be taken aback by a new sound of cries. You were, lying in bed, exhausted, with your little newborns cradled on either side of her chest. You hold back a few tears seeing your new beautiful girls. One had your hair and her father's eyes while the other looked exactly like her father.

He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. They're beautiful, he thought as he walked toward you. And his new family in her arms. He is officially a father now. He gently held on to the little girls in his arms. And he spoke so softly it felt like a whisper, " Hi, sweetheart, it's daddy talking to you. He waited long for you and your sister to be here." He kneeled down to your level and placed a loving kiss on your forehead, " Thank you, love, you made me even happier since I've met you."

"And I thank you for being such a devoted husband and partner." You said as he grazed your cheek with a kind smile. " You know, I wasn't expecting we have twins." He added.

You nodded, playfully poking his nose, "But now we have double the attention, don't you think?" He quietly chuckled at your response. " That we do."

" Heyy, not to ruin the mood but can I hold one of my nieces now?! I did help out!" JIn-ah quietly shouted while she leaned into her brother's ear.

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

A/n: Should I do part 2? Just for fun? Also, I accidentally deleted your king awaits post and now I can't remember how it go! :(

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buckgasms · 11 months

Note

How did daddy Bucky x princess meet?🥰🥺

I think this is my Magnum Opus 🤭 it's mega long so forgive me but I just have a lot of feelings when it comes to Daddy Bucky and Princess 🩷

I'd love to hear your thoughts, feedback and obviously do keep sending me asks and ideas because I could write for these two for the rest of my life

Also a huge thanks to @mandijo17 and @clara-geekhime specifically, but to all of you who love them 🌷

- So I think it's a sure thing that when they met you, (Princess) were working at a really boring, horrible office job.

- You took the job at Peirce Enterprises because it was a chance to be creative and use your artistic skills, but as time went on it was becoming more strict, the workloads were humungous and all your colleagues were just plain mean.

- Most of the time you could hide at your little cubicle and get on with your work without being bothered, but sometimes mean guys would come around and steal your little plushies, move your stuff and leer at you.

- When you had to go to meetings the boss would shout, making you nervous as hell, so when you were called upon, you would stutter and struggle to speak.

- That just made everything so much worse.

✨

- One afternoon it was really bad. Mr Peirce had a big business meeting with Bucky Barnes.

- Everyone knew who he was.

- He owned almost all the real estate in Brooklyn, had fancy hotels, nightclubs, restaurants and god knows what else in his portfolio.

- He was also absolutely gorgeous, not that you were looking....

- So anyway, it was a big fucking deal and your work, some of your absolute best, was on display.

- "This is trash!" Pierce yelled and threw the paperwork at you knocking over your tea in the process.

- "What's your excuse?" He continued as your work soaked up the brown liquid and your eyes began to sting.

- "I...I...um, I thought..."

- He mocks your struggle and scoffs. "Get the hell out of my office...."

- Jumping out of your seat you run to the door, tears streaming down your face as you flee to your desk.

✨

- Not long after your colleagues drop by, saying it's all your fault they have to stay late and do more work. "Cost us our fucking bonus you dumbass" one of them says.

- Under the desk you squeeze at your little plushie, before dashing off to the supply cupboard.

- A few moments later there is a knock at the door. Before you can say anything it opens, and to your total shock, there is Bucky Barnes.

- He smiles, a kind smile but it's like he's holding his tongue.

- "This is a nice supply cupboard..." He comes in a bit further and hands you a handkerchief. "I fucking love stationery, nothing like a new notepad, or a y'know when you get a really good pen? And don't get me started on laminators... fuck those things are cool..."

- Before you can stop yourself you start giggling, hiccuping as he looks back at you and smiles more openly than before.

- He walks you back to your desk, admiring your cubicle, pointing out the pretty drawings and giving your little teddy a squeeze before placing it carefully on your desk.

- "Listen, I really loved your work. I thought it was excellent. If you want a change of scenery, let me know and I'd be happy to find a place for you in my organisation."

- He hands you a business card before giving you a wink and leaving. He shoots glares of death to all your co workers who are staring totally bemused at what they've just witnessed.

✨

- About a month later you are sitting at your desk and a parcel is dropped off by the moody receptionist.

- You sit confused for a moment before your curiosity peaks and you tear into the parcel.

- It's full of the most amazing things. A new iPad, apple pen stylus, notepads, pens, a fluffy pencil case and a little bunny teddy. It's an explosion of pink and you can't help tap your feet in excitement at this mystery parcel.

- Then your phone rings.

- It's Bucky's number.

- You know that because you have put his business card on your desk and memorised the number and each letter of his name until you know it by heart.

- "Hello?" You say quietly and look around, making sure no one can hear.

- "Did you get my parcel?" His rumbly voice tickles your ear, and you imagine him whispering just behind you. Your feet keep bouncing.

- "It's from you? Why?"

- "Well I thought maybe it might convince you to up sticks and work somewhere you are appreciated?"

- You smile and play with the ears of the bunny, "and what made you think I'd like this particular sort of thing?"

- "Just a hunch Princess..."

- Well that was nice. You struggle to breath a little but manage to pull it together for a sort of half laugh.

- "There is a condition though. You can only keep that stuff if you come for an interview. Otherwise I'm going to need it back..."

- Just then your boss storms through the office, eyes on you. You quickly say goodbye before he unleashes a tirade on your team. You manage to hide your parcel as he rants and raves, feeling oddly soothed by the soft bunny ear running between your fingers.

✨

- You knock on the door of Bucky's office later that day. You have the box in your arms and your backpack weighing on your shoulders.

- He let's you in with a smile which drops when he sees the box in your arms.

- "Don't tell me you're bringing that back?" He says incredulously as you softly smile and place it on his desk.

- The office is light and spacious, expensive furniture everywhere, a plush couch and of course a statement desk that you imagine he looks quite imposing sitting behind.

- "I was offered a better job today. I just don't feel right taking your gifts when it makes sense to stay there right? I'm sure once I'm in control of things, it will get better?"

- You seem to be asking him, rather than telling him and despite his downcast face, he doesn't press it.

- He flicks the lid open and peruses the contents, before clicking his tongue and raising an eyebrow.

- "Hmm I thought there was a bunny in here?"

- You face flushes and you even feel yourself pout. "I didn't think... I mean it's..."

- He grins, boyish delight on his face as he holds out his hand.

- "C'mon, it belongs here, not in that place."

- You control the urge to stamp your foot and have a total temper tantrum, which is totally not how you would ever behave in front of anyone. There's even a little scowl on your face as you hand it over and and takes it in his arms.

- You feel jealous of both of them before staying a firmer goodbye and leave, but not before his chuckles reach your ears and make you smile.

✨

- Monday morning you make your way into your new office. It's pretty bare but you gasp when you see the bunny sitting on the desk, a little note wishing you "Good luck x" in it's arms.

- You kiss its head and beam as you start unpacking, feeling lighter than air.

- Maybe you couldn't work for Bucky anyway. It wouldn't be good to have a crush on your boss?

- You finish sorting everything out and get to work, making sure Bucky's card is back on your desktop.

- Then an email dings up and you are called to a meeting. 2 hours!! It should be illegal. You give your bunny a squeeze before heading off.

✨

- You were feeling exhausted from the meeting when you came back to your office. Everyone in the area was quiet for a change. No snarky comments, no cruel joke.

- But you soon realised why.

- Opening the door of your office you found it trashed. Paper everywhere, screen scratched, books ripped and nasty words carved in the wood of your desk.

- Worst of all, the head of your bunny left sadisticly on your chair.

- It was too much. All the pain and awfulness you had taken on in the last year was too much.

- You had never done anything to them and they just continuously bullied you and made your life miserable.

- Looking around the room you felt utter dispair until you saw Bucky's card, ripped in half.

- Grabbing your bag you walked out of the room and didn't stop until you reached the lift. They shouted something at you but you didn't care. You couldn't take on any more of their hate.

- You walked through the city in a blur. Tears streamed down your face but you just kept walking and walking until you were there. You'd walked all the way to Bucky's building.

- The security desk looked quite disturbed to see you so emotional but you asked for Bucky and they pointed towards the lifts and made your way up.

- In that moment you wondered what the hell you were doing? Why were you in the lift?? Heading closer to his office looking like an absolute lunatic??

- Before you could stop them the doors slid open and there he was waiting. Without saying a word he pulled you out of the lift and into his arms.

- The dam broke fully and you sobbed into his chest. You managed to wail something about the bunny, your office, how mean they were...

- He managed to walk you into his office and sat on the comfy sofa and held you tight until you finally took a shaky breath and stopped crying.

- "Why are people so mean?" You whisper as he wipes the last few tears from your cheek before taking your hand in his.

- "I'm so sorry sweetie. You don't deserve that..."

- You feel so exhausted that when he takes you back in his arms and gently strokes your hair you just release a deep breath and slip into sleep.

✨

- A little while later you wake up, a soft blanket over you and you mumble a quiet 'hello?' as you sit up.

- "Hey, are you feeling ok? I got us some dinner I was worried you hadn't eaten all day..."

- You feel mortified but he shushes your apologies and puts a plate down in front of you.

- "Be a good girl and eat" he says smiling and you can't help but tuck in as your hunger (and praise kink) kicks in.

- You both sit comfortably, talking about various things, avoiding the reason for your arrival, keeping it light.

- Still, you find yourself unable to be sad around him. He makes you feel so safe and happy. It's addictive.

- He drops you home a few hours later, walking you right to the door, his hand resting on your arm, keeping you close.

- "So maybe I can come in for an interview in the end?" You say, feeling awkward but ultimately worried about what you are going to do now you can't go back to your actual job.

- He chuckles and takes your hand in his. "Do me a favour, don't worry about it. Will you let me figure something out for you?"

- He pulls you in a little closer and looks down at you, a cocky grin on his face.

- "Umm well, I worry about a lot of things Bucky... How can I not?"

- He rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead.

- "Because Princess, you can trust me..."

- Speechless, you nod before planting a rushed kiss to his chin/cheek before speeding into your apartment.

✨

- Then next few days are filled with texts, flowers, phonecalls and gifts from Bucky.

- You can't help the huge grin that spreads across your face when something from him appears, or his name lights up your phone screen.

- "Hi Bucky" you say one morning as he calls first thing. You roll over in bed and squeeze the huge bunny he sent you the day before.

- "Good mornin', tell me what you're doing today?" He says with slight growl as you snuggle down deeper under the covers and giggle.

- "Umm I don't know, maybe you should tell me?" You tease, biting your lip and listen to his deep chuckle.

- "Well first off, you are coming here for that interview, and then I'm taking you out to dinner to celebrate you're new job..."

- You giggle again and huff at his silliness. "Bucky that's cheating! I would feel bad if I didn't deserve it..."

- He tuts at the other end of the line and tells you, if you aren't there at midday you were going to have your first disciplinary.

- You were intrigued by that but you figured you better get moving.

✨

- You showed up on time, dressed in a pretty dress, your portfolio of artwork in your arms and a smile on your face.

- Bucky's secretary greeted you with a big smile and even hugged you when you arrived.

- "Hi I'm Wanda, I feel like I know you already! Go straight in, he's waiting for you!"

- You smiled, feeling flustered as she ushered you into the room where he is indeed waiting for you, his crisp shirt and checkered pants looking divine, his hair slicked back into a bun. It almost makes you drop your folders but you manage to hold on and plop them onto the desk before taking a seat across from him.

- The 'interview' goes well. He asks for your work history, where did you study and what you want to achieve.

- It was silly really. But you actually enjoyed it. You did have a big brain in your pretty head and it was nice to talk positively about yourself and not fear mocking, snarky comments.

- After an hour he smiled and stood up, reaching for your hand so you mirroed him and he shook your hand.

- "Welcome aboard darlin' now let's go celebrate."

✨

- Hours later you were back in Bucky's office, a little tipsy and full of delicious food.

- He had taken you to one of his restaurants, one of the fanciest in town and both of you had gotten a little drunk on champagne and each other.

- You had insisted that a part of your interview had not been completed, so you headed back to the office, giggling all the way up in the lift.

- Back in his office you 'ah-hahd' as your portfolio sat on the desk untouched. "You haven't seen my work properly Bucky."

- He looks at you a lot more hungrily than he ever has before as you beckon him over and push him into his seat before placing yourself on his lap and opening your book.

- "See now look at this one" you say as his hands drift over your thighs and rub small circles into your skin. He hums as you turn the page and show him another, this time his lips press to your bare shoulder. "Very pretty" he murmers as you turn again.

- Suddenly his hands glide up your body and you drop the book, turning in his lap and crashing your lips to his waiting ones.

- He wastes no time lifting you up onto the desk and gripping your face before dragging you into a crazed kiss.

- You are moaning in moments as you help him push off his suit jacket and watch hungrily as he pulls the shirt over his head, revealing his tanned, toned chest.

- He leans in and captures your lips again as your hands drift over his body and his hands push your dress upwards and pulling your underwear down, stopping for a moment and breaking the kiss.

- "You gonna let me see you Princess? Let me take care of you?"

- Wrapping your arms around his neck you bite at his lip and nod, doe eyes staring up at him.

- "Please... Please Bucky..."

- He pushes you down slowly and removes your underwear with a firm rip making you gasp and moan as his hot breath fans over your folds.

- "Fucking.... So pretty baby, knew you would be" he growls before diving in, licking and sucking at your soaked folds, one hand pushing your thighs wider as the other toyed with your entrance, eliciting a loan moan of pleasure when he sank his finger in and curled it towards him.

- He teased you and drove you closer to the edge until he pulled back, dragging you upwards and planting a kiss to your lips as he presses his thick cock to your pussy.

- "You taste so sweet princess but I wanna feel you... You want that babygirl?" You can only nod and reach between you, guiding him to you.

- "Please... Da... Bucky need you..." You stutter and he can't help but pause, a sly grin on his face.

- "What did you say baby? Were you thinking about someone else?" He's smiling like the devil because either the truth will be delightful or the lie will be ridiculous.

- You shake your head and grab for his face, pressing kisses to his lips.

- "No, no, didn't mean, da- um Bucky please, please just.... Fuck, fuck me please da- shit Bucky please??"

- He fully laughs at that before resting his forehead against yours, slipping his hands under your thighs and lifting you, until he's seated and you are straddling him, his thick perfect cock just pressed against your soaked heat.

- "Princess, you aren't a very good liar" he says and rubs his nails along your sensitive skin. "Just say it baby... Say what you wanna say to me when I'm fucking that pretty little pussy...."

- He lines himself up as you whimper, chewing your lip before you lean in and whisper it, so quiet as if someone else in the world might hear it.

- "Daddy.... Please?"

#daddy!bucky #princess!reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut

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hellfireloserclub · 5 months

Text

written for @thefreakandthehair spicy six winter challenge prompt: prompt 40 -If I hear this song one more time, I’m going to jail.-

Also on Ao3

Little Drummer Boy

It was something straight out of a shitty Christmas movie.

Eddie wasn’t convinced that some higher being hadn’t sent down the whole damn situation to torture him.

Had he not earned a break from the relentless torture that society insisted on dragging him through on the daily?

Hell, he had died for this godforsaken town and this was his reward?

Steve motherfucking Harrington walking around looking like Mr. December in a charity pin up calendar, right in front of his poor besotted eyes.

He had only taken this job over the holidays to save up enough to actually move out of Wayne's, god knows his uncle deserved to have his own space. Wayne didn't need his deadbeat nephew under foot any longer, but between working on his GED and the few questionable side hustles -aka anyone that would employ a high school dropout who was accused of murder- his options had been few and far between.

Joyce Byers had been left in charge of the Hawkins festive festival, and like the absolute angel she was she had put him to work alongside Robin and Steve as the general dogsbodies. No job too big. No job too small.

However, this almost constant presence of Steve was hard-wiring Eddie's brain to sit constantly at a state of half horny half stupid. Sometimes he couldn't hide the frustrated grunt that shot out of him as he banged his head on the counter. It happened whenever Steve walked past with his stupid ruddy cheeks doing something dashing and noble and endearing himself even more to that really weak part of Eddie's psyche.

So far in the last few days since they had set up, he had been a witness too, in no discernible order a thousand tiny acts of Harrington heroics.

Steve had shimmied up the enormous Christmas tree in the town square to fix one of the blown out lights. The view had been spectacular, his stupid handsome grin shining almost as bright as the plastic angel that was lit up on top of the finest spruce the town had to offer. Various cheesy Christmas hits interwoven with carols filling the air as Steve had meticulously twisted each light one at a time.

Eddie had held the ladder as Robin taunted him relentlessly about his stupid crush under her breath.

“Come they told me Pa rum pum pum pum A newborn king to see Pa rum pum pum pum”

Eddie loudly sang along to the music coming from the speakers in the town square, hopefully drowning out her words enough that Steve couldn't hear her from his precarious perch. Robin looked too smug in her knowing glances and her eyebrow wiggles.

Eddie almost regretted letting Robin in on his dirty little, very confusing, secret, but it felt right at the time. Even if he couldn't quite get his head around the idea that he might be attracted to another man. He stupidly figured Robin would know where he was coming from, even if it was from the opposite direction, so to speak. Robin hadn’t asked for specifics, but it wasn’t hard to guess who his life-changing revelation was over. It wasn’t as if there were that many people in their immediate friend circle.

But Eddie dared anyone not to fall a little in love with Steve Harrington, Demobat slayer. He was charming to a damn fault, nobody was immune to it, he even had Hopper wrapped around his little finger. And that was all it was, the charm. He wasn’t having very new, very frightening feelings over one of his best friends. The man who had saved him.

Blah blah blah it was like some stupid typical pulp fiction trope, right down to the hairy chested man boobs, torn shirts and epic scars, just make it gayer. Even so… Eddie… he wasn't gay, at least he didn't think he was? Right now staring up at Steve leaning over to flick at a dud bulb his tongue poking out between pink chapped lips, Eddie wasn’t sure how long he could keep telling himself that.

When Steve's feet were firmly back on the ground, he had quizzed them on what was so funny.

Eddie had gone bright red and deflected but Robin had just said something catty about Eddie enjoying the view.

It didn't help his cause when he helped Steve put the damn ladder away, following behind holding the other end of the rungs trying to look anywhere but at the picture perfect view of Steve’s ass in blue jeans.

“A newborn king to see Pa rum pum pum pum” Eddie muttered under his breath, singing along to distract his stupid mind. Steve watched him quizzically as he propped the ladder up against the wall.

“That song gets stuck in your head right?”

“Yeah something like that.” Eddie was glad when the walkie on his belt burst to life asking them to come help set up the candy cane village.

○°○°○●○•°○•●•○°○○•●•●°○°○•●•

Steve saving the baby Jesus was unexpected.

An epic hero moment, saving the son of God from the jaws of the stray dog that had kidnapped the thing from the nativity scene outside the church.

Eddie had seen Steve take down three Demodogs with one swing of a bat, however it paled in comparison to watching Steve dive head first into action mode to chase a Jack Russell Terrier into the dumpster behind Maldives. He had returned victorious hoisting the little plastic doll above his head until he passed it on to old Mrs. Stevens to put back in it manger.

Robin was forced to listen to how her ‘nice young man’ had saved the day for the rest of the shift and Eddie had wound her up relentlessly. Sweet revenge for the inner turmoil she had inflicted on him.

“Robie and Stevie sitting in a tree…” Eddie teased as they watched Steve getting force fed sugar cookies from the women of the church guild.

It earned him a punch in the arm so strong it nearly knocked him off the fence where he was sitting. “It's not me who wants to be sitting in a tree-” She was about to go on a rant…

“ Our Finest gifts we bring, ” he jumped down from the fence “ To lay before the king pa rum pa pum pum So to honor him ” Eddie sung as he plucked a hot chocolate from the stand he was supposed to be manning and skipping over to Steve he presented him with his stolen bounty.

“What's this for?” Steve asked, looking down at the festive paper cup.

“You just saved the son of god, my good sir. That deserves the finest vittles.” Eddie joked, bowing low. “Plus, you need more sugar to wash down all that sugar, sugar.”

“That's a lot of sugar.” Steve beamed at him. Cheeks flushing.

“Sugar and spice and all things nice, Stevie.” He knew his own face was reddening, even more so when he realized they had an audience. The ladies of the church guild were watching them both, eyes wide.

“I am a poor boy too. ra pum pa pum pum I have no gift to bring.” Eddie sang slinking over to the woman standing next to Mrs. Wheeler and gently taking the effigy of the baby Jesus and bolting the tiny fence to secure the thing into its manger with a zip tie. Then because ‘tis the season ‘ replacing the swaddling around it with all the care of a new father, tucking in his firstborn.

Rattling out a drumming rhythm on the wood before he straightened up, he gave a rousing chorus of the song that was well and truly stuck in his head.

“And to think we thought you were a serial killer.” Mrs. Causey from the post office offered a sugar cookie like she hadn't just said the most bat shit crazy thing a woman in a knitted two piece wearing a pink bobble hat had ever said.

“I never thought you would have done the things they said you did Edward.” Ms. Roberts said, nudging Mrs. Causey in the side. “I know your dad, Al made some stupid choices, but he’s a big old pussycat. Mad as a box of frogs, but wouldn't hurt a fly. I very much doubt any son of his would do such awful things.“

Mrs. Causey looked like she was about to say more, but Ms. Roberts hushed her up. To be fair, it was nice to hear someone say good things about his old man for a change. But he was holding off on the mad as a box of frogs until next week when he went to see his Dad on visitation. Last time he had spoken to him he was trying to persuade the guards to let him do a nativity play for the other inmates. It probably hadn’t ended well, Al Munson’s big ideas never ended well. That was why Eddie was with his Uncle Wayne after all.

Eddie smiled his most shit-eating grin in the general direction of the good women of Hawkins, “Ah, Yeah dad has the flair for the dramatics, and I'm afraid the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. But I’ve got Steve to keep me on the straight and narrow. Isn’t that right Stevie?” He jumped the fence again, this time landing with a wobble right in front of Steve. The other man reached out to steady him, with a flourish so as not to spill his hot chocolate. “Ah, my hero, you see this ladies? You need to watch your daughters, he will sweep them off their feet next.”

“I think we need to watch out for the pair of you Mr. Munson, you’re both quite the catch.” Ms. Roberts grinned as she started walking away. “Charming and resourceful. Quick thinking with the zip tie, maybe next year we should handcuff the baby Jesus down, less chance of a canine abduction”

Eddie was suddenly aware that Steve still had hold of him by the waist, he jumped away as if burned. It was one thing to be close behind closed doors, quite another to be like that outside and in front of the damn Nativity scene of all things. Eddie clocked the quick look Steve shot towards his handcuff belt, and ached to make a joke but Robin came to save the day. Demanding that they come and help with a spillage on the ice rink.

Still Eddie couldn’t help but feel that every time he looked up to talk to Steve, he caught the man quickly turning away, like he was already looking at him and had gotten caught. Eddie was finding it hard to believe that the redness in Steve’s face was all to do with the cold.

○°○●•°•●○○°○○○○○○°••○○○

Christmas eve snuck up quickly. And with it Robin’s relentless teasing somehow increased.

Every time she walked past now she would sing the stupid little drummer boy song, but now she had alternative words for the damn thing, and every time Eddie heard it over the speakers it instantly reminded him of Steve’s existence. Because Robin was a cruel and evil being sent to drive him to his own despair.

“Don’t stare at Steve’s bum, pum pum pu pum pum” Robin sang as she rounded him on the outskirts of the candy cane village, dressed as a jolly little elf arms full of mystery gifts for the meek and mild, or whatever it was kids were supposed to be, he hadn’t been paying attention in that part of the class. Thankfully, Steve was busy perfecting the piles of presents, attempting to make them stay in neat stacks, it would have been easier if he wasn't struggling with the stupid elf costumes Joyce had bullied them all into. He kept tugging the ill-fitting trousers from where his butt cheeks were trying to consume the itchy material. Eddie wasn't fairing much better but he at least had less to deal with in the ass department. It was hard to pull out a wedgie when you jingled all the way.

On the plus side, they had gotten off lightly, Hopper was currently dressed as a very unconvincing Santa Claus, and the rugrats had been roped into dressing as Angels and were currently caroling next to the tree- the lights kept flickering and they all kept exchanging worried glances, or at least they had until El glared the bulbs into submission.

To make matters worse, Steve started to sing the song under his breath all the damn time now. Eddie was getting some sort of twisted pavilion response to the tune. He was like a mouse looking for a treat. Whenever he heard that man offer his little drumsticks up to the little baby king he perked up and automatically sought big King Steve. And he was pretty sure Steve had cottoned on to him. Because whenever the song came on the festive rotation, right between Wham and David Essex, Steve was within viewing range of Eddie's new superpower.

It was hopeless he was hopeless, and right now he couldn't escape, not the same 24 Christmas songs on repeat or Steve and his peachy bum bu bum bum - fucking Robin!

The sound of bells jingling signaled Robin's return just as the telltale drumming started up through the speakers .

“If I hear this song one more time, I’m going to jail.”

Eddie nearly knocked himself out spinning on the spot. He hadn't expected Steve to sneak up to him when he jingled and jangled more than any one man should. Eddie hadn't noticed that the crowd had thinned, it must be time for Hopper's grand entrance. At least they only had to man the grotto and the sugar heart attack that was the line. Argyle and Jonathan were manning the slay.

“I thought you liked the little drummer boy?” Eddie rocked back on his feet trying not to look like Steve hadn't scared the ever living shit out of him.

“I do, but we hear it like sixty times a day, not including the wonderful remixed version you and Robin seem to have penned in your downtime.” Steve cocked an eyebrow, “Who knew Steve and bum could be used in so many creative ways?”

Eddie nonchalantly looked across the square, pretending to watch the Santa procession. He felt Steve step towards him, this time he jingled. He must have been ninja as fuck to get the drop on Eddie, because every minute movement was like crisp Stereo sound right now.

“Oh, come on Eds I totally set you up for that one, not even a ‘that's what she said’ joke? You're probably already on the good list, I mean saving the world has to be worth at least that right.” Steve's voice quietened towards the end, as if something had caught his attention.

He chanced a look at Steve from below the rim of his elf hat that he had pulled down further both to hide from Steve's questioning gaze, and protect himself a little more from the snow that had begun to gently fall. Steve was ignoring him now watching the white flecks falling, the first of the year. It wasn't the same now, not when it looked too much like the particles that had engulfed them and blocked out the sun. The haunted weary look crossed Steve's face and Eddie wanted to do anything to replace it with that content smile he had seen for the last two weeks.

“I write you a ballad about that peachy ass of yours, and all you do is complain.”

“You missed the ra pum pa pum pum” Steve pointed out, but the frown was gone, replaced with a smirk. He looked like the epitome of a bad idea. But bad ideas were something Eddie excelled at.

Eddie suddenly felt brave, there was a first time for everything.

“Ass doesn't fit the rhythm. It's got to be bum or butt, Dustin's A big butt head pa rumpa pum pum. See, fits the pattern. Has Weird Al taught you nothing?”

“I mean he's taught me how to make a damn fine sandwich.” He shrugged, shuffling forward and flicking the bell that hung on the end of Eddie's elf hat.

It rang out its happy little tune as Eddie focused on that and not the fact that Steve was up close, right in his personal space. Like how was he supposed to function with this blatant discard for his boundaries? If Eddie’s brain would like to send his body an answer on a postcard, he was happy to receive its feedback.

Was it hot in here? Had someone turned on the space heater? Had Eddie or Steve accidentally set fire to their stupid polyester and wool crimes against fashion?

Was it just him? Was he having a stroke? Was this some dormant form of upside down rabies? If it was, Robin would kill him. He had bitten her only last week when trying to stop her stealing the remote at Steve's place. She had bitten him first; it was only fair. But if it was rabies at least death by Robin would be a quicker way to go, then whatever was making his heart drum in his chest like the warm-up act to Megadeth.

Steve tapped the bell on the end of Eddie’s hat again, he was trying to do it in time to the jolly HO HO HO of Hopper over the speakers, but he failed miserably. Still Eddie watched every little movement, like he was about to sit a SAT on Steve Harrington and he had to pass or there would be grave consequences for his immediate future.

“You're the musical one okay. I haven’t got a musical bone in my body-” Steve was grinning at him now, a bright thing that made his eyes sparkle in the twinkling rainbow lights of the sugar plum grotto. One eyebrow was sneaking dangerously close to his hairline, it was like he was waiting for Eddie to finish his sentence, or catch up to the joke. Unfortunately for Steve Eddie’s brain had taken a mini sabbatical, it had to go somewhere to send him that postcard after all.

“Ok what’s up, that’s the second terrible sexual innuendo I’ve set you up for and you failed me dude, where’s your head at?” Steve tapped the side of his face and Eddie turned to look at him. Nobody should look good dressed as a bloody elf, but Steve was somehow pulling it off.

Oh shit, he was talking again and Eddie hadn’t heard a word of it. Staring at Steve’s chapped lips should really make it easier to follow the situation, but when had anything worked out right for Eddie.

Just then the speakers kicked in and the dulcet sounds of George Micheal filled the little room around them.

“Maybe next year I'll give it to someone special”

The Santa parade must almost be over, soon this little bubble between them would be filled with sugar-filled hoodlums. But right now it was just him and Steve and in any second …

“Would you look at that, it's the song about my bum.” Steve wiggled his eyebrows and the bells on his hat jingled, but that wasn’t the thing that caught Eddie’s attention.

The feeling of Steve’s nose brushing his own was the only thing he could grasp as real. Steve was too close. He tried to focus on him but it was making him cross-eyed.

Why was Steve so close?

Anyone would think he was trying to- oh…

“Please don’t hit me.” Steve whispered as his lips softly pressed against Eddie’s, there was a moment's hesitation as Eddie’s brain got the memo, and Steve started to pull away. Probably thinking that he was about to get up close and personal with Eddie’s rings to his face. He was, but not from a punch, Eddie somehow found the cognitive function to get his body to do what he wanted. A hand coming up to grab Steve’s face and pull him back in for a kiss, and the other one finally getting to grips with Steve’s right butt cheek. It seemed to be all Steve needed to press back in and drag Eddie into him till there was no doubt that this was what they both wanted.

Steve made a content noise as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Eddie’s, filling the space between them with a chuckle.

“Did you just pat my butt in time to this song?”

“Maybe?”

“Does that make you the little drummer boy?”

“Ah, less of the little, big boy try before you deny and all that. Stevie the real question here is are you the king, the gift or are you my drum… pum pa pum pum” Eddie dropped his other hand to Steves other cheek tap out the beat in time to the song.

That got a dirty snort of a laugh, and it was one of the best sounds Eddie had ever heard.

Suddenly Eddie felt like he was the bravest man in the world.

“So, am I visiting you in jail? Do they still do conjugal visits?” Eddie asked, nudging Steve's nose with his own “Do I have to start wearing dresses so I can fool the guards and have my wicked way with my jailbird of a lover?”

“I mean, what I want to do to you would probably get me arrested in at least five states.” Steve glanced across the snowy square. The sound of the Christmas hoard moving towards them with Hopper guiding the way growing ever nearer.. The bubble of whatever the fuck this was was getting smaller by the second “But since I get to do this now-” Steve lent forward and gave Eddie a soft quick kiss, “Hopefully, whenever I want. I won't feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin when I hear this song… ra pum pa pum pum?”

“Hey, that one almost worked!” Eddie grinned as the first of the visitors to Santa's grotto could be heard crunching up the gravel Oohing and ahhing at Rudolf and his cohorts. Hopefully nobody looked too close and realized they were actually just donkey's with fake antlers-it was dark and well the magic of Christmas was doing a lot of heavy lifting (no animals were harmed in the making of this magical wonder-but Robin had almost been kicked, more than once.)

Eddie, feeling bold, snuck in another quick kiss before they were thrown headfirst into the chaos of Christmas eve. They aimed for casualness as the first kids stormed around the corner to join the line.

Robin's face was too knowing when she walked up to join them.. But Eddie was pretty sure nobody had seen anything untoward.

“What did I miss, dingus squared?”

Robin placed herself between them and started untangling the hats from their jingling and jangling entanglement. The dangling ends of the Elf hats joined Eddie and Steve and It was obvious they had to have gotten a little up close and personal for that to have happened, “Did a Christmas miracle happen?” Robin teased as she bounced both bells back off their owners' nose.

“Santa’s Elves can go on the naughty list you know,” Steve tried to stare her down with the same look he shot at the gremlins, but it hadn’t worked on Robin before and it wasn’t about to start doing so now.

“Steve! Do you copy?” The walkie talkie on all their belts crackled into life with the sound of Dustin, throwing Robin and her accusations off track.

“Yeah butt head what is it?” Steve sounded annoyed but his face read as fond.

“Fido’s back for round two, You forgot to say, over. Over.”

Steve looked out across the square and the snow that was now bleaching down.

“Did Fido get through the cable ties? Over.” Eddie radioed back wondering how the dog had got past his fool proof retaining method.

“The manger is halfway down the street. Over.”

Robin looked at the line of kids waiting to go into Santa Hop, then looked at Eddie and Steve. She looked torn, and Eddie knew she was trying to decide if she wanted to tell Dustin to stuff it, or if she could last till the shift was over before getting the juicy gossip.

“Go. Do your stupid action hero thing,” she barked at Steve. She grabbed Eddie by the wrist stopping him from following Steve on his biblical quest. “But you stay here, I need emotional support against the heaving masses,”

Steve saluted her, bouncing on his feet. He nudged Eddie with his hip as he passed. “So little drummer boy. If I don’t get back, mine after work?”

Eddie tried not to be too enthusiastic when he nodded aware that Robin’s eyes were on him.

She looked like she was about to say something when the doors to the grotto opened and the kids in the front of the line started jostling for position to be the first to see the big man in red.

Eddie started taking the tickets as he watched Steve dart around the waiting kids and head out into the snow. He tried not to stare at Steve's ass as he slipped on the snow but he knew he failed when Robin started ra pum pa pum puming at his side.

“Did you tell him?” He whispered accusingly as he helped up the line with his little red rope.

“I didn’t tell him anything. You sing out loud, you big goof.” Robin didn’t have to look so smug,

“I might have nudged him in the right direction. He wasn’t sure he had heard you right, you know I was just doing my bit, making sure that you were both barking up the right pine tree, being a good samaritan”

“I didn't know Steve was … you know?” Eddie muttered under his breath.

“He's not, well he is… a bit. Enough to flirt with you in front of the infant king and half the ladies’ auxiliary.” Robin took the next bunch of kids tickets and waved them through the velvet rope of hope. They all looked drunk on sugar and dazed in the lights. Eddie knew how they felt.

○°●•●•●°●○•○○○°●••●○°○•●°°○

They got to the end of the long line with Eddie in a haze. Steve did not return to them until shortly after Hopper had stormed off complaining he needed at least an entire bottle of whisky to deal with the amount of kids who had asked him for a Ninja Turtle..

Steve hastily locked up the grotto and started toward the car, Robin charging ahead calling shotgun. she narrowly avoided the snowball thrown at her by Steve as he yelled at her to wait up. She pointedly ignored them slipping and sliding in the snow till she got her position at Steve's passenger side.

“It's ok Bucks, I know my place in the pecking order.” Eddie grinned as he slid into the back seat, however he leaned forward to interrupt the silent conversation happening between Robin and Steve. He would never understand the semaphore that was their eyebrows, but he could interrupt the signaling.

As soon as they were outside Robin's. Eddie scrambled through the gap in the chairs to steal her place in the passenger seat. She affectionately rolled her eyes as she turned to say goodnight.

, it’s my gift to you ra pum pa pum pum. Now you can touch Steve’s bum ra pum pa pum pum ” She sang before she slammed the door closed, flipping them both the bird.

“She's going to try to take the credit for this, you know?” Steve said as he snaked his hand over the center console, searching out Eddie's knee to squeeze.

“I mean, credit where it's due, I think we can blame Bing Crosby and David Bowie and their dedication to creating the most annoying earworm that rhymes with your bum.” Eddie watched as Robin pulled the door closed behind her with a wave and a thumbs up. He glanced around the street checking that nobody's curtains were twitching, all he could see was softly falling snow and HOA approved fairy lights. So he took matters into his own hands and twisted his fingers in with Steve’s, tugging him closer, unable to wait any longer.

Steve's lips met Steve's with no resistance, he sunk into the warmth, the feel of Steve's chapped lips moving against his own, it would be easy to get lost in it. He was getting lost in it, right until a snowball hit the windscreen and shocked them apart.

Battle mode activated and the two of them looked for the threat, only to see Robin standing in fluffy pajamas on her porch, waving at them to get a move on.

Heart racing from more than just the shock of the snowball, Eddie flipped her off as Steve put the car into drive and the radio kicked in, the song that had started it all playing quietly as they pulled the corner towards Steve’s house.

“Then He smiled at me pa-rum pum pum pum. Me and my drum Me and my drum.” Eddie sang as he tugged playfully at Steve’s hat, the bells ringing in time to the music, Steve’s smile lighting up the snowy night.

He was living in a cheesy Christmas movie, but for once Eddie Munson was more than happy with that.

#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic

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whumpsoda · 5 months

Text

Bad Days - Malak and Nevan

WOHEO Masterlist

This is inspired by a recent ask!!! I really wanted to write a couple short things about these two in recovery just because I couldn’t get their ask out of my head :3

These two snippets take place proceeding Malak and Nevan’s captivity, after a hunter frees them!!

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

cw: conditioned/brainwashed whumpees

———————————————————————

Malak’s eyes remained fixed on the glowing screen of the television, lazily glossing over each flick of the visuals. He blocked out the drawl of voices, reducing the sound to a hum in the back of his brain.

Besides that, the shared trailer was deathly silent.

Upon the revelation, Malak perked up a bit. Just minutes ago, or at least so he thought, Nevan had been dashing from room to room in a whirlwind of motivation, cleaning and taking care of whatever he could for most of the morning.

As much as Malak wished to help the younger man during his tough days, he wasn’t exactly equipped in that area of expertise. Sometimes letting Nevan do his own thing seemed to work best.

But now he’d stopped, and was nowhere to be heard. Silence during Nevan’s flare ups was never a good sign.

Draping his most prized blanket over his shoulders and around his neck, Malak made his way to the kitchen. His feet, covered in a pair of plush and fuzzy socks, shuffled over the crunchy rug.

Walking was still strange for Malak. His legs still wobbled, his knees still always threatened to buckle any second. He had the wall though, surroundings capable of stabilizing him as he made his way across the room. He would take any means of aid over crawling.

Hiding his body behind the doorway, he peered his head in, only for his vision to settle upon Nevan immediately.

The other man’s back was pressed against the wall next to him, a familiar sight. He stood in a trained position, flawless posture and hands perfectly intertwined above his midsection. Nevan didn’t take the slightest notice of Malak’s presence, eyes shut and ears closed, save for the search of his beloved bell.

Malak gently lifted a hand, stretching out a finger and tapping softly to Nevan’s shoulder.

Nevan twitched with the touch, eyes widening the smallest bit in reaction. “Master..?” He hazily questioned, head tilting to meet Malak with glassy, confusion tainted eyes.

He recognized that was not his master. That Malak was just another thrall, and a much farther valued one at that. Yet, the urge to serve someone, anyone, in any way possible did not dissipate.

Malak used his thumb to tenderly stroke Nevan’s skin. He easily leaned into it, awaiting for Malak to gift him a wonderfully mind numbing command. When he didn’t, instead continuing his tender motions, Nevan utilized one of Darius’ favorite phrases. “What may I do for you, sir?”

Malak stared for a moment, quietly deciding his next move while Nevan gladly waited. He released the plaster of the doorway, shifting his weight back to his two feet. Silently he held out his palm, looking to Nevan and signaling for him to take it.

Nevan’s lazy gaze fell to the hand and then back up to Malak, searching for approval, and Malak only nodded gingerly, gesturing again to his hand. Timidly, Nevan accepted the gesture, allowing for the other man’s thick fingers to envelop his own in a pool of warmth.

“Do you need something, um, sir? I can be of assistance.”

“Follow.” Malak instructed, but unlike Darius his voice was calm and leathery, not a hint of irritation. Nevan did so obediently, eager to allow anyone to give him a purpose.

He walked elegantly behind, contrasting his roommate's heavy steps, as Malak guided him to the floor of their living space where he had been seated just moments prior. “I can be a good boy and help you, sir. With, with, um, anything.” He insisted, head spinning with each graceful step.

His movements abruptly ceased with Malak’s, almost running into the larger man. Malak simply motioned to the deteriorating, itchy rug. “Sit, please.” He requested.

Nevan instantly dropped to his knees, a dizzied look on his face. Malak soon followed, gently making his way to the ground beside the other man. He wrung his muscled arm around Nevan’s shoulder and neck, tenderly pulling the man closer.

Malak shifted his attention, something on the television catching his eye. Nevan sat in stunned silence for a moment, savoring the warmth of his cheek against Malak’s fuzzy sweater. “Am, am I being good? Do you need anything? Am I being a good boy?” The pathetic pleas of questions spilled from his lips.

“Good. So good.” Malak soothed, tugging Nevan closer. Nevan nuzzled into Malak’s comforting, relaxing hold.

He sensed his face heating from the praise, his blurred brain recognizing the pleasant pulse of his heart. “Thank you, thank you, sir.”

“Shh. Relax.” Malak murmured, brushing a thick strand of hair behind the small man’s ear.

Startled from such a foreign request Nevan pulled away for a moment, the faint remembrance of his biddable objective resurfacing. “But, um, but I-” his fingers curled atop Malak’s lap, and his dark brows twisted.

“Please.” Malak whispered, soft gravel snaking its honeyed way over the word.

Nevan’s body numbed, limbs easing and falling back into place. “Oh. Um, okay, sir.” He stumbled, his cheek taking its place on Malak’s large shoulder.

Nevan was delighted to do anything as long as he could succeed in pleasing just one person.

——

Malak was having a bad day. He admittedly had a very frequent amount of days coated in bitterness and the everlasting effects of past events, and Nevan held the sole responsibility to get him through another one. He didn’t particularly mind, though, being well acquainted with the practice of waiting and serving upon others.

He entered the living room of the trailer, a bowl of mouth watering, savory macaroni wrapped inside of his grip. A sticky pool of cheese drooled over the noodles, steaming with warmth. He turned to the floor, Malak’s usual spot, and yet nothing sat atop the disturbed, crumbling rug.

His gaze wavered about the room, over the still black television, the scattered blankets, and yet Malak was nowhere to be seen. Nevan’s stomach tensed, and he quickly set down the food.

“Malak?” He exclaimed, making his way swiftly down the narrow hall, and peeking into the other rooms. “Malak?” He repeated. No answer. “Malak!” Silence.

He dug through each room, checking wherever he could, even spaces that wouldn’t have fit Malak’s bulking figure. No Malak.

He practically ran back to the minute living room, biting his lip warily and clawing at a strand of his hair. Horrified, his gaze quickly landed on the front door, a sliver of freezing air making its way in. His breath hitched.

Malak was gone. For all Nevan knew, he was escaping back to the vampires, no matter the fact that their masters were long dead. What if he was hurt? Scared? What if a different vampire had already plucked him off the streets for themself?

Dashing to the door, Nevan swung it open and stuck his head outside, icy wind chilling his cheeks. “Malak?” He called again, only for his vision to quickly land on the other man balled up on the edge of the porch.

Nevan inched closer, careful steps creaking the old and withered planks of wood. Malak sat atop the rim, shivering under a swaddle of several precious comforters. The one most recognizable was the meticulously pink one Adrastus had knit, which hugged Malak’s large waist.

“Hey, man. What’re you doing out here?” Nevan questioned softly, bending down to his knees and resting on Malak’s level.

Malak’s head was eagerly craned to one side, exposing the skin of his neck and chest, the only part of him not enveloped by a pillowy blanket. His lips quivered as he spoke, and his teeth slightly chattered. “Mm… Mah- Master…” he stumbled, eyes glassy and brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“What about Master?” Nevan pressed, placing a tender hand to the other man’s shoulder, a welcomed touch.

“Um…wuh, wait… ‘fer Master…” Malak drawled, tilting his neck ever so much further, desperate for the intimate bite he so craved. His still red rung bites were clearly visible, him having ripped off the usual bandages that covered them.

Nevan, despite the despair that hung on his heart, gave Malak a sweet smile. “You’re waiting for Master?” The other man took a moment to process the speech, before giving him the faintest of a nod. “Well it’s pretty dark and cold outside right now, and it’s not so safe to be out here. Can you wait inside with me?”

Malak thought the suggestion over, before distressfully shaking his head. “Mmng.. mm, mm… n- no…”

“Come on, man. Here.” From the corner of his eye Malak inspected Nevan’s outstretched hand, hesitant to take it. Ultimately though, he did as he was told.

“We can wait together inside where it’s nice and warm. I’ll turn on the television too and we can watch something while we wait.” He tenderly rubbed Malak’s fingers as the man rose to his feet, shivering. “Master would like that, wouldn’t they?”

Taking a beat to digest his friend’s saccharine words, Malak gave another feeble nod in agreement. “Yeah, yeah… Mm, Master…” his feet scuffled along the wood as he walked, and his pounds of blankets picked up dirt as they dragged behind him, all the while Nevan gingerly guided him along.

Once back indoors, Malak practically leaning on him, Nevan made a point to lock the doors. With intertwined fingers the two made their way to Malak’s spot on the floor, of which he drowsily plopped onto.

“Here, dude. I made you some food.” Nevan placed the still lukewarm bowl in Malak’s open lap, of which he eyed hungrily. “Mac and cheese.”

Malak rubbed his palms on the ceramic, reveling in the warmth it supplied to his freezing flesh. “Mm…mac and, and cheese…” he perked up only when Nevan switched on the TV, his favorite program quickly catching his cloudy attention.

Nevan returned again, resting beside the other man, speaking to him in his soothing, honey voice. “Do you need help eating that?” He asked.

Sometimes Malak did. Sometimes, often on the bad days, he imagined it was Adrastus feeding him. Placing sweet, loving spoonfuls of their rich cooking to his tongue, whispering affectionate praises and cooes that licked his ears.

To Nevan’s surprise, Malak lightly shook his head, vision still fixated on the screen. “Wah, um, wanna… wanna do it.” His doe eyes trailed over with unease to meet Nevan’s.

Nevan only gave him a satisfied grin. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m always happy to help.”

#Sorry for posting about my ocs so much #I had a crap day and writing them makes me happy #And I’m very self conscious about writing right now so I’m having a hard time writing other stuff #recovery #recovery whump #recovering whumpee #Nevan oc #Malak oc #conditioned whumpee #conditioning whump #brainwashing whump #My writing #whump #Whumpblr #Pet whump #we only have each other

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