#its like getting a weighted blanket on a good day and a (comfortable) car on a bad one

[ghost-proofbaby]

oh, what a wonderful feeling (eddie munson x reader)

when you have a bad day with your chronic pain, eddie is prepared to take care of you.

→ warnings: none! pure, soft, good old-fashioned fluff <3

→ wc: 1.8k+

→ a/n: just some absolute softness with eddie taking care of reader with chronic pain, for my love @big-ope-vibes. divider by @firefly-graphics. title is inspired by the song "the man in me" by bob dylan, and i highly recommend listening to it as you read. <3

Eddie knows something is off the moment he walks through the front door. 

Usually, you’d greet him with a brilliant smile and open arms. The two of you had it down to a science these days; he’d get off work at the local auto shop around five, and be home by six, you already waiting by the door as you bounced on the balls of your feet and prepared to exchange gossip of each other’s day. A glass of wine in your hand, a beer in his. He’d tell you all about the shitty customers of his day, ranging from the old man who thought he knew more about his car than Eddie (he didn’t) to the woman who had thrown a full-fledged tantrum when all of her obnoxious flirting didn’t come to fruition (he still charged full price). You’d catch him up on your office’s latest gossip, about the manager who was trying to seduce his scandalously young receptionist or the ongoing war of who was stealing Mavis’ lunch out of the communal fridge (it was the newest intern. It’s always the newest intern).

It was so mundane, so simple, and yet managed to be his favorite part of every day. 

Except today. Today, he’d gotten home on time, even five minutes earlier than normal, and there was no sign of you or your glowing smile. 

“Babe?” he calls out, toeing off his work boots, grunting when he has to accept defeat and lean down to untie the laces. 

No answer.

“Baby?” he draws out the last vowel, glancing around the dark living room for any sign of you. The couch was empty, a soft throw blanket draped over the back of it. A mug of coffee from this morning was left to grow chilled on the dining table. 

Finally, though his ears have to strain, he hears you softly call out, “In here.” 

He heads straight for where your voice had echoed from, down the hall and into the bedroom. All the lights were off, and he made no move to turn a single one on. He already knew the layout of your shared apartment by heart, every creaking floorboard and every leaky faucet. 

The moment he sees you laying in bed, face down into the pillow, a weight lifts from his shoulders. A warmth spreads over him, comfort swaddling him just like the first time he’d laid eyes on you. 

It didn’t feel like he’d come home until he saw you. 

“You okay, bub?” he asks gently. He notes the way the bed is still made, the comforter only ruffled from where your body dips into the mattress. The subtle shake of your head nearly breaks his heart. “What’s up, buttercup?” 

He’s overdoing it on the nicknames, and for good reason – the muffled laugh that you release into the pillow you’ve buried your face into. It’s a symphony of gold to him. 

“You’re so stupid,” you mumble, and he has to lean in as he crouches down beside the bed to hear you clearly, “‘S my back.” 

The worrisome furrow between his brows smoothes out, his features falling slowly as he breathes out, both in empathy and relief, “Your back?” 

There were good days and bad days when it came to your body and chronic pain. When the two of you first began dating, it had worried him to no end. He had nearly smothered you with an abundance of doting. But time and practice had finally equipped him to be better prepared for the bad days, knowing what to do when the pain reared its nasty head without driving you insane. 

You finally turn your face, cheeks squished as you reveal your eyes to him. Big and glowing, even as they squint in pain, “Yeah. It’s killing me. I can’t even walk, it’s so bad.” 

“Have you taken anything?” He's poised and ready to leap up, to retrieve whatever painkillers you’ve filled the medicine cabinet with. But when you nod, he relaxes, crossing his arms and resting them on the edge of the bed before mirroring the smush of your face as his cheek presses into his forearm. 

“Four Advil. They haven’t done shit,” a frown settles into the corners of your mouth. 

He widens his eyes dramatically, mocking your pout, “Wow, that’s a lot of Advils.” 

“Don’t patronize me,” you groan, freeing an arm to throw it out into his direction, attempting to aim a slap to his forehead. He dodges it easily.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs out, dodging a second attempted slap, “I’m sorry! Sheesh, for someone in pain, you’re in a fighting mood.” 

He finally stands and grimaces at his own knees popping with the movement, cursing his own aching joints at the ripe age of twenty five, before he settles to sit on the edge of the bed. 

You must truly be feeling awful, because you don’t even scold him for doing so in his dirty work clothes. 

“What can I do?” he asks, bringing a tentative hand to rest on your shoulders, feeling the tension even between layers of blankets and clothing. 

You manage the smallest of shrugs, an ever-permanent wince gracing your features more roughly now. 

“I just want it to…. To stop,” you grit out in irritation, “I’ve barely gotten any work done today, and it’s just gotten worse and worse. It’s shooting down my leg now, down my… down my… that one nerve, you know? The stoic nerve or whatever they call it.” 

“Sciatic,” he corrects with a hushed chuckle. 

“Right, sciatic. Anyways, I can’t walk, and I can hardly stand to sit up. And it was my one day off. I was supposed to do the dishes, and then the laundry, and then… and then walk Gertrude’s dogs….and…” you trail off your rambles as your body slowly relaxes. As you’d been speaking, his hand had moved in soothing patterns over your shoulder before traveling down the path of your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure that he’d learned wouldn’t inflict any more unnecessary pain. Instead, it would simply soothe you, as it is right now. 

“I’m sure Gertrude can walk her own mutts,” he muses of your elderly neighbor as you sigh out deeply, “And I can handle doing the dishes and laundry. I’m a big boy.” 

“You couldn’t even tie your own shoes this morning,” you remind him in a teasing tone with a corner of your mouth still hidden in the plush pillow. 

“Unfair,” he whines, his hand finally reaching your lower back, taking more precautions in where and how he rubs circles, “I was still half asleep, and you offered.” 

“You were only half asleep because you ignored your alarm, and I had to kick your ass out of bed.”

“I was tired. Sue me. Also, I had a very comfortable pillow - or should I say pillows?” he references to your chest, leaning himself down to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you twist to finally face him fully. 

You’re still smiling through the whine that hitches in your throat from the movement, jokingly wiping away his kiss as you shake your head, “Are you still in your work clothes?”

There it is. The scowl and the tilt of your nose he had been anticipating, clearly displeased in his filthy state even as your eyes spell out your adoration for him. 

“You’re cute when you try to be angry with me,” he grins like a young boy, features lighting up with a youth only you could draw from him. He leaves no room for protest as he stands from the bed and claps his hands, “Alright, here’s how the night’s going to go - I’m going to go order your favorite takeout, and pour you a glass of your favorite wine. And then, you’re going to take a bath-” you open your mouth, a squeak of protest falling off your lips, but he simply holds up a finger and shakes his head, “Nope. Hot bath, wine, dinner. I know you probably haven’t eaten today, have you?” 

Your silence is all the answer he needs. 

His grin softens, and he fights back the urge to trail a ginger finger over your cheekbone, not wanting to risk getting any of the residual oil and dirty on his hands across your face, “I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait!” you finally call out, sitting up quickly and nearly doubling over, “At least take a shower first. I’ll order the food.” 

“You will not order the food. I’ll do it and then shower, but you better not lift a damn finger while I do, baby. I’ll kick your ass, I mean it.” 

“Not if I kick yours first.” 

His chest blooms with love for you, the terribly stubborn beauty with a wicked sense of humor that has managed to keep him on his toes the last several years.

You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass – he doesn’t care how cliche that is. 

You both follow through on your promises; he showers, and you don’t lift a finger. By the time he’s running a scalding bath, getting it hot enough it would burn him but somehow comforts you, the food has arrived. 

The night goes exactly as he had said it would. You sink in the bathtub and your skin is already flushing pink as he returns with a glass of wine for you in hand, the other holding a plate stacked high with your favorite food. He sits on the floor beside the tub as the two of you sit in silence at first, content with passing the plate back and forth before he tries to feed you your bites, which leads to snarky remarks and playful banter until he drops a piece of food into the bath. It has you screeching about how gross it is, but he can only cackle as he fishes it out, nearly knocking over your glass of wine, which leads to more scolding from you. You’re not mad, though, or even irritated in the slightest. He knows by the cracks in your voice and how hard you have to bite your lip to hold back your own laughter.  He knows by the way you press a kiss to his forehead after he shakes his still-damp curls out in your direction, if for nothing else than to pester you. 

And when the wine and food has been finished, when the bath has run cold and you’ve finally gotten each other up to date on the day’s latest gossip, he has a warm towel freshly fluffed in the dryer awaiting you. He insists on another back rub, this one more thorough as he lays you on the bed and carefully straddles you, peppering in kisses this time along with the working of his nimble hands. A trail of love notes written across your skin in his breath, in his murmurs of affection and his whispers of devotion. 

You’re his favorite part of his day, even on the bad ones. 

You’re a stubborn pain in the ass, but my God is he glad that you’re his stubborn pain in the ass.

[jackharloww]

"through thick and thin” 

TW: depressive thoughts, anxiety. 

The first weeks after giving birth to Gracie were hard; having a newborn baby was not easy. The sadness and emptiness I felt every day only complicated everything. The first days I was so excited about it all, but then came the nervousness of being a mom, and with that followed the anxiety. I thought it was baby blues and would go away after a week, but with Grace’s colic and all the hormone changes my body underwent, the feelings stayed longer than I would’ve wanted. 

Grace cries a lot, and it’s been going on for two weeks. once she starts crying, it takes hours before she stops. Jack and I talked to the doctor, who informed us that it was colic and common during the first six weeks. It would go away on its own eventually, but we couldn’t do anything to make her stop crying other than comfort her. Constant crying and not knowing what to do took a toll on Jack and me. 

I feel sad, and I’m always overwhelmed these days. Guilt is consuming me for feeling this way.  I have every reason to be happy. I have a beautiful little baby girl, and my husband, who loves us unconditionally, is amazing; I have the family I’ve always wanted, so why am I feeling this way? What is wrong with me? I can’t control my emotions even though I try my hardest. These past few weeks, I’ve woken up feeling anxious and irritated, and not only does it affect me but also Jack. He has to deal with Grace crying as well as my daily mood swings and frustration.

Jack tries to help as much as possible. He took some time off work after Grace’s birth and stayed home to be there for us. Even Jack has noticed that I’m not feeling like myself, but he doesn’t pressure me to talk about it. He asks me daily if I’m okay, and when I nod and tell him that I am, he smiles at me, not really believing me. He has noticed the change in me, but he always proceeds to tell me that he’s here for me and tells me to relax more. But how do I tell him that even getting up from bed is starting to feel like a task these days? How do I tell him that the only reason I keep going is for our little girl?  Every time I get out of bed, it feels like I have a heavy weighted blanket on top of me, and the feeling is not going away. 

Today though, Jack had to go to the studio to work on some things; the studio was only 10 minutes away by car, so he assured me he would come home immediately if I needed him to. 

Right now I’m in Grace’s nursery with her in my arms. She’s looking for my breast, indicating that she is hungry, so I sit down in the chair we have in the nursery and lift my shirt to feed her. She latches on to my breast and starts to eat. I rubbed her pretty, chubby cheeks and sat comfortably on the chair. After burping her, she was lying in my arms, looking at me, making small sounds. I’m watching her in my arms, and I’m filled with so much love for her. I love this little creature and I’m going to guard her with my life. Only a few minutes after having a moment with her, my mind got once again filled with intrusive thoughts. Am I taking care of her well enough? Is she eating well? Is she getting a good amount of sleep? Does she feel loved? All the different questions are rushing through my head, and I can’t seem to stop them. She finally falls asleep and I put her in her crib, before going out to the kitchen to do some cleaning.  

Jack messaged me throughout the day asking how everything is going, and now after a few hours of being away, he is calling me on FaceTime. 

”Hey baby, how is it going?” He smiled big at the phone when I answered

”Hi, fine” I gave him a small smile, my hair was a mess, and I was wearing one of his shirts, which was now stained with milk leaking from my nipples. The dark circles under my eyes could be spotted from miles away, but he still managed to look at me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. 

”Where’s my Gracie baby?” He asked 

”She just went for a nap” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. 

”You should take a nap too. I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight,” He told me, making me stare into the phone, not knowing what to answer him. It has been five weeks since I gave birth, and we’ve mostly stayed at home. I was overwhelmed and did not feel like dressing up and going out, but I didn’t know if Jack would understand. 

”Hey, what do you say? You got real quiet on me there” He chuckled through the phone. 

”Uhm, I don’t really feel like going out.” I mumbled. 

”Okay babe, I can grab some takeaway and we can have a movie night” Jack answered as he started playing with his beard. 

”Sounds good. How is it going at the studio?” I ask him 

”It feels good to be back, you should hear the beat we are working on, it’s amazing,” Jack said with a big smile, happy to be back. Just as I was about to answer him, Grace’s cries could be heard from the nursery. 

”Jack I’ll call you back soon, She just woke up. Love you” I let out a big sigh as we hang up and go to Grace’s nursery to pick her up.  

”Shh baby, mommy is here” I held Grace in my arms, rocking her gently. Her small cries only got more and louder, and I’m trying everything to get her to stop crying or at least calm down a little, but nothing is working. Why can’t I comfort her? What is wrong with me? With every sob she lets out, the lump in my throat grows as the overwhelming feelings engulf me. The feeling of sadness is again there, and my eyes get filled with tears that I cannot stop from falling. The weight in my chest gets heavier with every sob that I let out. After trying to get her to stop crying for about 20 minutes, I grab my phone and call Jack, he answers after the second ring. 

“Please come home, I need you” I sobbed into the phone as soon as he picked up. Without any hesitation, Jack got up from the studio. Almost 15 minutes after I called, Jack came home and walked straight to the nursery where Grace’s cries could be heard. 

”Jack, What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I make her stop?” I sob as soon as I lock eyes with him. I try to take deep breaths to calm down, but I only seem to be crying more and breathing faster. Jack comes closer to us and puts one of his arms around me, kissing my head. 

”Hey hey hey, come on. It’s going to be okay, we got this” He said and pressed another kiss to my head before trying to wipe away my tears with his thumbs.  

”Go sit down for a while ma’, I’ll handle it” He grabs Grace from my arms and I feel exhausted. What kind of mother am I that I can’t even comfort my child, and get her to stop crying.

”Hey my Gracie baby, daddy missed you so much, yes he did,” He cooed and kissed her tiny hands, pulling her closer to his chest, whilst she continued to cry out. 

”Everything is going to be alright darling, shhh” He started rocking her. 

”Hush little baby don’t say a word, daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird” I heard Jack sing as I walked out of the room to go into the shower, needing to calm myself.

Jack stood in the same spot, watching me go. Jack and I have always been good at communicating and talking with each other when something is wrong. The problem is, I don’t know what’s wrong, so if I don’t, how would he? 

Hastily, I took my clothes off before stepping into the shower, letting the warm water release some of the tension in my back. I slid down the shower wall, using it as support as I sat on the floor, letting my thoughts consume me as tears streamed down my face. At some point, I couldn’t hear any cries, which made me somehow relieved, yet the pain in my chest didn’t fade. My eyes caught a glimpse of Jack’s feet making their way towards me, not even hearing the bathroom door open. 

”Oh baby,” Jack came in, immediately shut the water, and helped me stand up. I couldn’t say anything; I could only cry. He grabbed a towel and helped me get into it. 

”I can’t do it anymore,” I sobbed in his arms as he held me closer to him. 

”I’m overwhelmed, Jack,” I let out another big sob. ”I can’t do this,” this time, I didn’t have the energy to hold back from him. At this moment I’m mostly grasping for air and sobbing into his chest. 

Jack pulled me off him for a second and held my face in his hand, making me look at him

”I’m here, look at me. I’m here for you, you’re not alone” he said and wiped my tears, and brought me closer to him once more. 

”What kind of mother can’t get her child to stop crying?” I asked him, the tears not once stopping from falling. 

”Hey don’t say that. This is not your fault” 

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want it to get easier,” I cried to Jack, holding onto his shirt. He didn’t say anything. He only rubbed my back and kissed my head, calming me down. 

”Come on, let’s get you dressed,” He said after a few minutes. We walked out to our bedroom, and I sat on our bed. He brought out one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. He helped me get dressed, seeing I didn’t even have the energy to do that. 

”Come here” He grabbed my hand and walked me out to the living room, we sat down on the couch, and he gently rubbed my hand. 

”I’m here for you. You have a husband who loves you and a beautiful daughter who loves you more than life itself. And we want you to be happy.” He finally said, ”I don’t understand what it is that you’re feeling, but I’m here for you. Let us try to understand together” He still tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks and kissed me gently. 

”I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

”What are you sorry about? Stop it. it’s okay not to feel okay” 

”I’m sorry you had to come home from the studio, and that I put all this weight on you,” I said feeling remorseful. 

”Stop that, I don’t give a fuck about that right now. You’re my wife and you need me to be here for you, and right here is where I want to be. We got this together. I’m with you through thick and thin.” 

—————

It took some time for me to write this, I wrote and deleted a lot. And my bestie also helped me!! So I hope you like it🥺❤️

[lobster-tales]

Beat the Daylight

Sequel to Face the Noise, an Arcane Rock Band AU

Rating: M

Chapter 20: The Jam Sesh

Summary: All is well. 3 months later || Springtime

This work is available here on AO3. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19

Powder had missed her bed. Sure, the one at the hotel had been comfortable, with its satin pillows and heavy comforter. But there was nothing like her bed, the mish mash of blankets from her childhood that were layered on top of each other in artful chaos, arranged to allow the best combination of weight and airflow.

And particularly this morning, with Lux sleeping beside her, she didn’t want to leave.

She heard heavy footsteps in the hallway, the scent of coffee a few minutes later. Careful not to disturb Lux, Powder slipped out of the sheets and tugged a Hextech hoodie over her shoulders. She’d been surprised at how comfortable it was, way more than any of Shimmer’s merch–no wonder Vi and Mel wore theirs all the time.

Vi was pouring a cup when she walked in. “Morning.” Even after a few months, her eyes still had that shine whenever she saw Powder, that awed relief. Powder pretended not to like it. Vi asked, “Lux here? What time did she get in last night?”

“Late.” Powder pulled out her favorite mug and her second favorite for Lux.

“She likes one splash of vanilla creamer and a splash of hazelnut,” Vi advised. “I picked up both last night. She also likes a little sprinkle of cinnamon on top but not too much because it’ll sink to the bottom.”

Still so weird. Powder wondered if she would ever get past it. “Thanks.”

“What are you two doing today?”

“I’m gonna show her the town,” Powder said, sipping from her own coffee. “We’ll pick up Ekko once he’s done with his meeting. You want to come with us?”

“Nah, I got work.” Vi stretched her fingers skyward. “New hire’s settling in, though. He’s been closing the last couple nights on his own.”

“Good. Give you more time to train for your tournaments.” Powder smirked at her. “Cause you’re gonna need it.”

“Oh, I need it, huh?” Vi scoffed playfully, rising from the table. “Come say that to my face, I’ll whoop you right here and now.”

“No thanks,” Powder said, taking Lux’s cup. “I’m not paying your hospital bill.”

Vi shook her head, grinning. “See you tonight, Pow-pow.”

“Later.” When Powder returned to her bedroom, Lux was just stirring. “Good morning, Starlight,” Powder purred. “Want some coffee?”

Lux blinked at her, and gasped. “Yes!” She accepted the cup, murmuring, “Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite person ever?”

“Mmm I wouldn’t mind hearing it a little more,” she said, kissing the tip of Lux’s nose.

They took their time getting ready for the day. Of course, Powder wasn’t very helpful, since every time Lux put a piece of clothing on, Powder eventually worked it back off of her again, distracting her with kisses.

“Powder,” Lux giggled. “Come on, I have to do something with my day.”

“I’m something.” And she bit her neck.

They spent a few hours tangled in each other’s arms, enjoying each other in lazy bliss, until Lux glanced at her phone and gasped. “Oh, we gotta go! Ekko finished his meeting a while ago.”

As they arrived at Ekko’s place, he bounded up to the car. “Yo, Crownguard!” Ekko reached in through the window to clasp Lux’s hand and draw her in for a half hug. “What is up, girl, how you been!”

“Good,” Lux said with a grin.

Powder cut in. “You better watch those hands, Boy Savior.”

“Only if you can catch them.” He slid into the back, propping his forearms on the back of their seats. “What’s our first stop?”

“The school,” Lux sighed. “Have to convince my parents this was a productive trip.”

They cruised through campus: the weekend left the area empty, with only a few students trailing through. Powder had familiarized herself with the buildings, and pointed them out as they went. “There’s the chemistry building, environmental science. That’s where Viktor and Jayce’s lab used to be when they were grad students.”

Lux asked, “Which one are you going to be in?”

“All of them,” Powder huffed. “The boys said I can’t start my Hextech internship until I get my basics out of the way.”

Ekko reassured her, “You’ll knock it out in no time. As long as you don’t get distracted by Starlight over here,” and he pinched Lux’s shoulder.

“Hey, what’d I say about hands, bitch?” Powder reached back to swat at him.

They stopped at the top of the parking garage, leaning over the concrete wall to survey the city. The trees were full and lush, cars passing by lazily in the mid-spring day. Ekko and Powder switched off their tour notes, pointing out different landmarks.

“There’s the square,” Powder said. “You can’t really see the pub from here, but you can see the top of the courthouse.”

“And that office building?” said Ekko. “When that place was still being built, we snuck in one night and tried cigarettes for the first time.”

“Oh yeah,” Powder laughed. “Vander was pissed. Vi was grounded for two weeks.”

Lux just beamed at them both, enjoying the stories, only interrupting occasionally to ask questions.

The pub was the next stop. The lunch rush had just ended, giving Vi and Vander a long enough break to greet Lux. Vander in particular was excited to meet her, curious about her style of playing guitar. Lux was nervous at first, but settled into one of her rambles, and Powder gave Vi a knowing look as they all listened.

Eventually Vi and Vander had to get back to work, at which point, Powder, Ekko, and Lux went to Shepherd’s Bridge. After handing Lux some spray paint, they cheered her on while she left her own tag, a bright blue star symbol sandwiched between Caitlyn’s cupcake and a fresh pink “Jinx”.

The trio picked up a few supplies for the evening, stocking up on sodas and chips. Powder dropped off Ekko at his car so he could go pick up Zeri, leaving her and Lux to their own devices for the afternoon.

They lay entwined on the living room couch, half-paying attention to the horror movie. Lux ran her fingers through Powder’s hair, gently massaging her scalp.

“Do you think they’d like me?” Powder asked. “Your parents. And Garen.”

“Maybe. I mean, you are rich and famous now.”

“Jinx is famous,” Powder clarified. “Powder’s just rich.” Because she was over eighteen, all of the money Silco set aside for her had become hers, even after his arrest. The problem was she didn’t know what to do with it, other than pay for school. Now, she had everything she wanted.

Lux smiled to herself. “Well, Jinx is the one in all those scandalous pictures of us, so they’ll probably prefer Powder.”

“Scandalous, huh?” Powder buried her nose in Lux’s ribs.

“They’re going to be weird,” Lux said honestly. “They always have been. Hell, I could be dating Caitlyn and they’d still complain because the Kirammans are new money. You can’t worry about what they think. Just worry about what I think.”

Powder propped her chin on her stomach, gazing adoringly up at her. “And what do you think?”

“I think…” Lux said, tapping her nose with a finger. “That you’re adorable.”

Powder scrunched up her nose, pretending she was offended. “I’m not adorable. I’m a menace.” She gently bit Lux’s skin.

“Fine. You’re an adorable menace.”

The doorknob jingled, and Caitlyn followed the sound, arms overflowing with paperwork. “Hi Lux!” she said with a smile. “How was your trip here?”

“Good.”

Powder nodded towards the papers. “How’s hunting?”

“Ugh.” Caitlyn dropped everything on the already cluttered kitchen table. “I’d rather hunt a hawk in the rain. But, we’re making progress. There’s a lot of new housing between here and Piltover. Lux, I forgot to ask, do you have any home preferences?”

“Nope!” Lux said brightly. “Just my own room and a roof.”

“That’s exactly what Vi and Ekko said.”

Powder gave Lux the side eye. “You know, you could always take Vi’s room and live here with meeee.”

“My parents barely agreed to let me live with Caitlyn,” said Lux. “That being said, I might have some early classes, so it would make more sense for me to spend a few nights a week over here.”

“Or every night.”

“Powder,” Lux chuckled. “I can’t.”

Powder huffed, pretending to be annoyed. “You’d really rather live with my sister and my ex-boyfriend?”

Caitlyn chimed in, “It was that or fourth wheel with Jayce, Mel, and Viktor.” The kettle whined and she entered a few seconds later with a steaming cup of tea in hand. “Speaking of which, Jayce said they’re on their way. Viktor wanted plenty of time to set up his equipment.”

“Perfect.” Powder stretched, rising from the couch and offering her hand to Lux. “I should also start getting set up. Wanna help me?”

“Sure!” As they entered the garage, Lux admired the string lights weaving back and forth over the ceiling, the variety of band posters on the walls. “Not sure how helpful I’ll be, though.”

“Well, you have the most important job.” Powder indicated the brown couch against the wall. “I need you to sit there, and look pretty.”

                                                           ☆ ☆ ☆                                                   

Viktor and Jayce brought Sky with them, as she was visiting from Noxus. While they set up, she regaled them with stories of her new job and coworkers, her love life and friendships. Lux asked constant questions, fascinated. The two had only met over Caitlyn’s video calls, and were fast friends.

Just as dusk approached, Ekko and Zeri arrived with Vi. Ekko prepped his keyboard presets while Vi and Lux tuned their guitars, Zeri warming up her vocals. Caitlyn and Sky were more than happy to plant themselves on the couch, splitting a bottle of rosé.

Vi asked Jayce, “Who’s drumming first?” but Powder answered for her, plopping down into the drumset chair and twirling her sticks.

“You ready to see a real drummer, Talis?” Powder sneered playfully.

He smiled, joining Caitlyn and Sky on the couch, inviting Viktor into his lap. “Took you long enough.”

Ekko played a single chord, considering his bandmates. “Alright. What song are we-”

Zeri interrupted him by seizing the mic and singing,

Shot through the heart And you're to blame

They all joined in.

Darlin', you give love a bad name

Vi, Powder, Lux, and Ekko launched into the instrumental, the noise rattling the walls of the garage. Zeri nodded her head to the beat, her pigtails bouncing with the movement.

An angel's smile is what you sell You promise me Heaven, then put me through hell Chains of love got a hold on me When passion's a prison, you can't break free

Oh, you're a loaded gun, yeah Oh, there's nowhere to run No one can save me The damage is done

The couch crowd sang along to the chorus,

Shot through the heart And you're to blame You give love a bad name (bad name) I play my part and you play your game You give love a bad name (bad name) Hey, you give love, a bad name

For the final chorus, the instruments fell away, leaving the band to sing acapella,

Shot through the heart And you're to blame

Zeri aimed the mic at the couch, and the small audience sang the last,

You give love a bad name

The friends whooped and cheered. Powder whispered to the other band members and they all grinned. She clicked her sticks together, “1, 2, 3, 4!” and they began an upbeat song. There was no part on the keys, so Ekko grabbed his mic and sang with Zeri.

All the small things True care, truth brings I'll take one lift Your ride, best trip

They harmonized, Zeri singing the higher part as Ekko took the lead,

Always, I know You'll be at my show Watching, waiting Commiserating

Say it ain't so, I will not go Turn the lights off, carry me home

Zeri pulled Ekko away from the microphone, dancing together in the center of the room while the rest of the band sang,

Na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na Na-na, na-na, na-na, na-na, na, na

As the song ended, Mel entered from the garage’s side door, grinning. “I can hear you down the street,” she chuckled. “Excuse my tardiness: meeting ran late.”

“You’re excused,” Zeri and Powder said at the same time.

Mel considered the couch. “And this must be the lovely Sky I’ve heard so much about.”

Sky’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “H-hi,” she stammered, rising. “Senator Medarda, it’s so nice to meet you.”

She took her hands and said warmly, “Call me Mel. I’ve heard you’ve been working in Noxus. Quite the culture shock?”

Sky smiled shyly. “Yeah, they’re a little intense over there.”

“Some things never change,” Mel said wistfully. “Here, I have something for you in the car: Caitlyn mentioned you like rosé so I brought my top six brands for you to sample. Jayce, darling, can you help me bring them in?”

Sky just stared after them, jaw dropped. “Is she-”

“Always like that?” Caitlyn asked wryly.

“Always,” Viktor confirmed, resting an arm around Sky’s shoulders.

When Jayce returned, Vi nodded towards Powder. “Alright, Pow-Pow, it’s Jayce’s turn.”

“No!” She crushed the sticks to her chest, but her possession was more playful than sincere.

Ekko smirked and said, “You’re gonna make her sing this next one alone?” And he played the opening synth riff.

Powder practically threw the sticks at Jayce, taking the microphone in hand as he scrambled to get behind the drumset before the beat dropped.

The sisters sang the first verse together.

Here we stand Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two Sleepless nights Losing ground, I'm reaching for you, you, you

They harmonized together on the pre-chorus.

Feeling that it's gone Can't change your mind If we can't go on To survive the tide Love divides

On the chorus, Ekko and Lux joined the vocals, but paled in comparison to the passion that Vi and Powder shared.

Someday love will find you Break those chains that bind you One night will remind you How we touched and went our separate ways

Vi sang,

If he ever hurts you

Then Powder,

True love won't desert you

And together again, grasping each other’s hands as they belted,

You know I still love you Though we touched and went our separate ways

Lux shredded through the guitar solo, a cocky smirk resting on her lips. Then it was just Ekko, running the synth hook, the song ending with the final two notes of the bass drum.

When the applause and cheers died down, Powder pointed at Viktor. “Alright, Vik, you’ve had it too good for too long. It’s your turn, DJ.”

“Eh, good things never last.” He took his spot behind his equipment, playing a few warm up beats and house music. The couch was too small to fit all of them, so Powder, Jayce, Ekko and Zeri grabbed some lawn chairs.

After his series of beats and tracks, Viktor nodded decisively towards Lux. “You ready?”

“I was born ready,” Lux said. She left the mic in the stand to free her hands.

Viktor started with a snapping, electropop beat. Lux raised her hands, grinning slyly at Powder as she sang. The notes were simple, but she added vibrato to the notes, made the sound her own.

We are the crowd, we're c-comin' out Got my flash on, it's true Need that picture of you, it's so magical We'd be so fantastical

Leather and jeans,

She spread her arms wide, indicating the space.

Garage glamorous Not sure what it means But this photo of us, it don't have a price Ready for those flashing lights 'Cause you know that, baby, I

Lux took the mic in hand, stalking towards Powder in time to the music.

I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me Papa-paparazzi Baby, there's no other superstar, you know that I'll be Your papa-paparazzi

Standing directly in front of her, legs between Powder’s knees, Lux’s free hand toyed with her braids. Powder lifted her hands and claimed the back of Lux’s thighs, holding her there. She gazed up at Lux with adoring, hungry eyes.

Promise I'll be kind But I won't stop until that girl is mine Baby, you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me Papa-paparazzi

Lux’s voice was playful as she went through the verses, gliding around Powder, brushing her fingers over her shoulders, never quite close enough. But as the bridge ended, Lux fell to her knees in front of her, crawling towards Powder as she sang the chorus once more, her voice fiercely possessive.

I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me Papa-paparazzi Baby, there's no other superstar, you know that I'll be Your papa-paparazzi

Powder held her breath. She was spellbound by Lux’s intensity, fixed in place by those bright eyes and the carnal rawness of her voice. Lux added in her own high notes to the final chorus, belting the song as she climbed into Powder’s lap.

Promise I'll be kind But I won't stop until that girl is mine Baby, you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me Papa-paparazzi

The mic dropped to the floor as Lux took her mouth in a rough kiss. Everyone cheered except for Vi and Caitlyn, who averted their eyes and clapped politely, charmed but embarrassed at the fiery display.

The jam session went well into the night, with each of the band members switching off instruments whenever they got too tired. Even Caitlyn at one point felt the rosé enough to show everyone her under-practiced, jerky rendition of Moonlight Sonata, to which Zeri chose to do an entirely inappropriate dance to, making everyone laugh. They went through a variety of genres, and the original Firelights even played a few of the songs from their past performances. Eventually, the group decided to call it, with Powder taking the mic to lead them into one final song.

Acapella, Powder sang the lead, with Vi and Ekko backing her up with harmonies,

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landside, No escape from reality Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see,

Powder belted out,

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low, Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to Me, to me

Ekko played a gentle, modified scale on the keyboard. The rest of the group joined in, all singing together for the first verse.

Mamaaa, Just killed a man, Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, Now he's dead Mamaaa, life had just begun, But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Powder took the lead again on the second half of the verse,

Too late, my time has come, Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all The time Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go, Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

During the instrumental break, Vi tore up a guitar solo. Her fingers pulsed against the fret with each note, creating a vibrato sound. When the solo ended, Ekko’s piano took over again. Powder sang,

I see a little silhouetto of a man,

The rest of the band sang,

Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the Fandango!

They all broke out into smiles during the operatic third verse. Powder alone,

I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me

Zeri and Lux both grabbed her, dramatically fawning as they sang,

He's just a poor boy from a poor family Spare him his life from this monstrosity

As the verse built towards it’s climactic end, they all sang,

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me,

“Go Starlight!” Powder yelled, and Lux belted the high note,

For me!

Vi shredded out another guitar instrumental, screaming into the microphone with the rest of the band,

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? So you think you can love me and leave me to die? Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby! Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

She kept up the pace, the energy building until finally the music collapsed back into a slower tempo. The couch audience held up their phone flashlights, swaying back and forth to the muted end of the song.

Powder took a moment to look at them, her family. It had grown so much in such a short time. She smiled at each of their shining faces, ending with Vi, who returned the joyful grin. Powder sang,

Nothing really matters,

Lux took her hand, drawing her attention, and sang,

Anyone can see

Powder pressed her sweaty forehead against Lux’s, singing,

Nothing really matters

Lux echoed,

Nothing really matters

Then they harmonized,

To me

Ekko played the gentle piano outro, Vi joining quietly on the electric guitar. And here, surrounded by the music and her family, Powder felt completely and totally at peace.

Any way the wind blows

[vvyaspitofhell]

So for Kojo I have it that an ear infection caused their vestibular balance disorder. I was thinking while being a shifting bear person doesn't "worsen" it but it's "regeneration" has Kojo essentially locked with an ear infection for life.

In Kojos case they would have a personal doctor to help figure out the right dosage of meds to assist cause I imagine depending on the mission / bear mode , the dosage might have to change every one and again. And a personal trainer for the exercises they have to do for mediating issues as well.

Kojo bear missions are usually ones where you just need then to wreck as much shit as possible. Usually by swinging their hand its enough but when transforming back their are disoriented as hell. It'd much worse of they took damage in BEAR mode - headaches, disoriented nausea and LONG healing period.

Since the nanites need concentration to work properly, they only have their special coat for cover / protection until the dizziness and or migraines stop. The coat is good for softening attacks and protection from the elements (imagine it's a thick sci-fi type material) but they would still be kidnappable / bludgeoning to their body (especially face).

It makes me think that there is usually a partner to assist kojo with a getaway. They really have to plan alot for that.

Speaking of travel, they really detest plane rides. Would prefer car rides with the person who helps them get away as that driver knows how to make things more comfortable. I think sadly tho there will be cases kojo has to take a copter or plane with the Crescent. Ofcourse the crew accommodates for them but that doesn't mean Kojo is any less upset.

Kojo keeps alot of ginger and peperpemenr treats on hand to deal with nausea. I imagine lavender oil diffusers are brought on kojo boat/plane rides.

Kojo loves performing on stage but it still cause them issues. Kojo sometimes over shoots a misses a day of daily exercise when feeling better so the symptom management regresses for a good hot min before coming back.

I feel like other than being a massive forward flirt, their performances are slower and more focused of gestures unlike some who do acrobatics and flips.

Kojo sad hours if the stress is too much and they have to postpone a performance.

Kojo will sometimes use their work jacket to sleep cause it gives the effect of a weighted blanket. This is an accidental but appreciated discovery when detranformed on field.

I think the duality of kojo choosing personal experience over discomfort is the fact that they love loud metal music but probably has to listen to it in intervals. I joke that they like listening to it on missions sometimes , imaginings themselves in a cool music video but if anything it has to be turned down.

Honeslty Kojo is a bit stubborn to stuff like this. If it doesn't cause the headache or vomiting then they tend to hold onto this sort of thing cause they don't want to change the happy feelings/ nostalgia / identity euphoria it can give.

(Kojo wished to perform with growls and screams in music band when younger and loves metal head stuff but the exact way they want to they havent figured out yet and at this point too scared to try)

This is general stuff but more to figure out as i research and draw them!

[pretentious-depression]

I wish I had someone to tell me that they’re proud of me. Not that I particularly think I deserve it, just… I want it. I really want it. I wish that 64% in an exam for a language I’ve been learning for a little over a year — 2 years less than everyone else taking the exam — garnered something other than a “You know that isn’t good enough” and a disappointed smile. I wish 80% in every maths test garnered more than an off-handed “well done”. I wish 70% in a maths test garnered more than a concerned “What went wrong?”; a “You made some uncharacteristic errors”. 

I wish someone would look at me, smile, and tell me that I did well getting out of bed in the morning. Someone who would understand how difficult it was to drag myself into the world — because it is difficult. Eight. Blearily blinking my eyes open; tearing my weighted limbs from their places; feeling the weight of the blanket much more keenly that I should — and then half-rolling out of bed; staring blankly at a uniform that lies pathetically on the floor, because I hadn’t had the energy to put it anywhere else when I’d thrown it off the last day, and I hadn’t had the energy to wash it for a fortnight; grabbing my all too heavy bag, because I hadn’t had the energy to unpack the books I didn’t need, and really, everything was too heavy, now; forcing myself out into the frigid air of winter. The frigid air of the world. Ten past. Then I would go walk to school — the cars tempting me every step, the middle of the road taunting its usual demented allure — and I would go to classes — languid, almost sleep-walking — and I would overhear conversations while sitting in my loud silence, and part of a smile would pull at my lips, and then it would go as quickly as it came; I would remember with a rueful bitterness that I wasn’t part of that conversation, and I wasn’t meant to hear it. I would nap every chance I got; better a sharp sting in my neck and an ache in my wrist, and sore eyes that burned at the sunlight, and a foul taste in my mouth and the beginnings of a torturous headache — than another god forsaken moment spent awake and alive.

Fifteen past eleven. I’d go to break, and quirk my lips up: barely, briefly. Someone would ask me if I’m alright, with a worried tone in his voice, and I wouldn’t be able to lie — not to him — and then he would push further than I’m willing to bend, with sunshine in his intentions and a furrow in his brows. And I would break from it, but not then. I would hold, hold, hold, until I got home, and I would spill and shatter and screech marks across myself, under the safe, concealing pounding of the rain-like shower water that painted my skin an angry red and ran over angrier, scratched white. I would complain of hunger, and he would offer me food, and I would refuse, he would say, “Are you sure?”. I would falter, refuse again, and he would drop it. That comforting, familiar ache in my stomach would remind me, when I got home, that I am alive. Every word that fell from his tongue was steeped in concern, steeped in pity. I don’t want it. Not from him.

Every waking second spent wishing I was somewhere else. Every moment at school wishing I was home — every moment at home wishing I was asleep. Every moment asleep wishing for nothing: fully indulging in nonsensical dreams. There was one fleetingly beautiful one where a girl, soft hair and sweet laughter, had pressed herself between my arms — before I’d woken, all warm and light, and remembered with dread and rising guilt that I know her, and she deserves better. There was one where I fought a dragon, all reckless, careless, and thoughtless with not a worry in mind — and I’d woken up myself, helpless and weak. Logic dictates then, that it would make perfect sense to simply wish to stay asleep. Yet people hardly take it well when I tell them that I just don’t want to wake up, ever.

I just think, sometimes, that it’s much easier to do things you don’t like when there’s a reward. Even if the reward is just a smile and a few words, however empty.

[thenastyotherblog]

Hizashi Yamada as a Dad 

Pregnancy

Hizashi looks like the type of man that would be good with children and also want to have one of his own.

So when you two decide to give it a go, he is pretty excited.

Also the type to shout down when you give him the good news, he needs a couple of minutes to assimilate the fact that you are expecting his child.

Then he goes from 0 to a 100, hugging you tighly, peppering your face with kisses while he is laughing and crying.

The first thing he is doing the next day is to announce your pregnancy to everyone.

Goes to all your doctor appoiments, he doesnt want to miss anything! Not matter what it is, he wants to be there with you.

Gets very emotional when the doctor show you the first sonogram of your baby.

Hizashi couldnt care less of the gender of the baby or if they are born with or without a quirk,  he would love them no matter what.

Nevertheless he gets a bit salty when you say you dont want to know the gender and prefer to be a surprise.

"COME ON! THE SUSPENCE IS KILLING ME HERE!"

"Nope, you will have to wait"

Not saying that there are bets to guess the gender of Mic's baby but there are totally bets on it.

Hizashi being pretty excited to decorate the baby's room.

It has gender neutral colors and a bit of music themed.

Struggles to both put the crib together and the baby seat on his car.

You totally laughing at how ridiculous the baby seat looks on his fancy car.

Failing to stop your man to buy a baby leather-like jacket.

"THEY WOULD LOOK SO RAD, BABE!"

"You are banned from buying baby clothes"

When you start to get bigger, Hizashi is all over you.

Gets very grabby outside and inside the bedroom, everything is bigger after all!

Makes you all kind of healthy meals and indulge your weird ass cravings, he cannot say no to you.  

It doesnt matter to him that sometimes you wake him up in the middle of the night to get whatever you are craving now, he will go and get it.

Very patient when you get emotional, endures it when you lash out and comforts you when you get depressive.

"Zashi, do you still love me when im this gross?"

"Of course baby! Love you with all my heart!"

Doesnt let you do anything when your due is near

You are not allow to crouch, carry stuff.

Its a bit overbearing but you know he is doing it out of love.

Your water breaking in the middle of the night.

Hizashi is still a bit drowsy and jokingly ask you if the baby is coming.

When you nod rapidly and sees the urgency on your face, color drains from his face.

No matter how prepared he thought he was, he still panics when the moment comes.

Stays with you all the way, holding your hand, telling you how good you doing.

His hearts almost stops when he hears his newborn's cry.

Hizashi being suddenly so nervous when the nurse gives him his child, all cleand and wrapped on a cozy blanket.

Only when he is holding them, watching them sleep so soundly, does the weight of reality hits him.

He is a dad now.

They are so small between his arms, chubby little cheeks, a scruff of golden hair on his little head.

He doesnt even knew he been crying the whole time.

"Hi there, little listener" Hizashi can barely talk, his voice is cracking, his whole body shaking with joy.

"Zashi you are crying on our baby"

"I cant help it! They are perfect Songbird!"

Aizawa and Nemuri visiting you at the hospital.

Nemuri going about how the baby is a carbon copy of Hizashi.

With Aizawa sulking about how there is "two of Yamada now".

Man is trying so goddamn hard to act like he doesnt care about his best friend's baby but the moment he is given baby Yamada he fails.

There is now a picture on everyone's phone of Aizawa holding back his tears while also holding, baby Y.

Parenthood

Is the first one to wake up when the baby starts crying.

There's something so sweet about looking at Hizashi holding the baby while lulling them back to sleep.

Hizashi's phone is full of pictures and videos of his baby.

There's no moment of Baby Yamada that hasnt been documented.

He is the type of dad to show off all those pictures to his coworkers and friends.

Loves to makes his baby laugh, hearing them makes him so happy.

Does his announcer voice while feeding Baby Yamada.

"Young Yamada is very excited for this apple mush! Would they be able to take this spoonful? The suspence is high y'all!" baby takes a bite "AMAZING! TRULY AN INCREDIBLE PERFOMANCE! THAT APPLE MUSH DIDNT STAND A CHANCE!"

Honestly does this voice everytime Baby does anything.

Baby crying everytime they see Hizashi on his Present Mic getup, because they are so accostumed to see him with his normal hair and clothes.

"Oh no. No,no,no,no. My little bird! Dont cry! Dont cry! Its me! See? Is daddy!"

Takes a little bit of time to get Baby Yamada used to "Present Mic"

Hizashi bringing his baby to UA when there is no babysitter available.

Uses one of those baby carries that goes in the front.

He stills the loud and excited Mic everybody knows, there is just a baby with him now.

A baby that is equally loud and excited as their dad.

"These are gonna be on your test so put attention! Ignore my adorable sleeping baby! Ignore baby! Focus on english!"

Getting one of those noise-cancelling headphones for babys -yes, they exist, i checked- for when Hizashi has to be more loud.

Im not saying this man cries everytime his baby does something for the first time but he totally does.

Is very proud when Baby Yamada starts walking.

He gains "Dad reflexes" now that his child is moving faster.

Hizashi and Baby Y having "conversations" for when they get more talkative.

Both of you trying really hard to make Baby's first words be either "mama" or "papa".

Is neither.

Whatever word you might be hoping for them to say is not even close to the one they actually say.

"Are you excited to see uncle Sho, little bird? Are you? Aw yeah! you are very excited! Yeah!"

Baby inmediatly going: "YEAH"

"Look what you done Hizashi"

"AWN SO ITS MY FAULT?"

"YES"

His speaker being covered on little crayon scribbles.

And so are his class notes. 

Hizashi totally singing lullabies to his baby when they cannot sleep.

Bed time stories too, he does the voices.

Trying to not freak out when Toddler Yamada comes home dirty and holding a variety of bugs.

The type to being called to school because his child get into a fight and the first thing to ask them be: "did you win?"

Also the one that encourage them to kick ass.

Protective Dad™️

The one that spoils his kid.

[chrisevansdaughter]

Life works for us and against us

Summary: Reader gets adopted by Chris and has a sensory overload whilst out getting decorations in a Mall at the weekend when its major busy.

———————————————————-

Pairing: Chris Evans x Adopted!Daughter

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, medication *Citalopram that is mentioned is primarily used in the US to treat GAD*, mentions of medical conditions, doctors visits, sensory issues / overload and just PURE Chris FLUFF with him being a dad.

————————————————————

Y/N’ POV

Life wasn’t the best for me from the start, bouncing around in foster homes and in the care system wasn’t where you’d want to grow up.

Being in the system taught me how to fend for myself and hide how I really felt, since I’d always have issues with anxiety and problems with different situations that would overwhelm me in a sensory way.. That with what I’ve learn now are nervous tics aren’t things people want to add on to their shoulders with a foster kid.

But there was one person who didn’t mind the ‘extra’ care my now diagnosed problems came with.

That person being Chris.

**time skip 4 weeks later**

CHRIS’ POV

It’s been 4 weeks since I’d adopted y/n and it’s been amazing, it’s taken awhile for her to warm up to me and my family that is now our family and I couldn’t be happier. During the month she’s been my daughter we went to the doctors on her social worker’s advice to get her tested for sensory and anxiety disorder since there was traits and red flags in their words that link to both of those.

I’d notice little things but I didn’t really think much into it since it’s a new space and she needs time acclimate to the new surroundings. With that y/n was diagnosed with

Generalised Anxiety Disorder

Attachment Disorder

Sensory Processing Disorder

Believe me it’s a lot but it made us understand that there was underlying causes which weren’t a surprise. So I thought it was a good idea to dedicate a room in the house for her as a calm room with comforts that would come in use whenever she’d need it.

One of those times being today.

Y/N’ POV

So I’ve been with Dad for a month now and he’s been nothing short of amazing everything I’ve ever wanted in a dad never mind a family, today was a particularly weird day because we had errands to run so going out really did set off the sensory issues and my anxiety because of the crowds coupled with the general overbearing noise since it was the weekend.

It’s bad because it was almost like a sixth sense since I knew it was gonna be a bad day. It started off going to the mall to get some different bits for the room that we were decorating which was my calm room and just to have a fun day out, since we were still bonding as the new Evans father daughter duo; we were out for about three hours when it really started to get bad..

It started with the little ‘tics’ I have like whistling, clicking and squeezing anything I have in my hand (usually it’s dads hand because comfort and human touch)when I got to the point I was either on the verge of a panic attack or sensory based overload.

Since the way it was currently going Dad decided it was time to finish up and start making our way home as the nervous tics I have were a pretty good indicator to how I was feeling in the certain situation.

CHRIS’ POV

Y/n and I were currently out having a father daughter day to grab some decorations for her sensory room it was later in the day but still busy, it was a tad bit uncomfortable for me personally but for bubba it was 5x worse and more overwhelming, it was visible in her face it was difficult for her.

30 minutes pass Chris and Y/n had just finished in a store getting some weighted blankets,bean bags and pillows for the room; Chris starts to notice y/n stimming or ticking as she called it which meant one of two things was coming. To avoid that situation in public eye view, Chris made the decision it was time to go home.

After getting in the car to make our way back home it got progressively worse, to the point I had to pull over to coach y/n though a panic attack as it was just too overwhelming for her coupled with now being able to pin point where this was all stemming from, it pulled on my heart strings as her new dad I loved her so much as if she was my own to see her going though this but I taught her in the short time I’ve been her dad to embrace this and not see it as problem.

“Are you okay bubs? We’re almost home just another minute.” I asked quietly knowing she’d need the reassurance that she was safe and in a calm environment

“I- no” she mumbled unsure of how she sounded not trusting her voice.

“We’re home now sweetheart so we can go straight upstairs with Dodger to the calm room, okay.” I mentioned Dodger knowing that Y/n took a very quick liking to him with the great comfort he gives her too since this wasn’t the first time this happened since her being my daughter.

**time skip 1 hour later**

Y/N’ POV

After calming down a considerable amount in my room that dad was right about it benefiting me massively, I felt less overwhelmed but still to a point i was whistling and laying with Dodger on the floor stroking his fur; dad was just sitting with me after draping a weighted blanket over me to ground me more than what he hugs could do normally a hug would do it but not this time unfortunately.

“Okay bubba I’m going to get a drink and some of your Citalopram, do you need anything else?” He asked just to be sure that these nothing else I needed.

“No dad I’m okay, love you.” I mumbled still on the floor pressed against Dodger’ body.

“Love you too sweetheart.” He replied giving me a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room.

After meds were had and more cuddles ensued y/n was finally content with a Disney movie on in the background and back to her ‘normal’ self whatever normal looked like for the father daughter duo..

—————————

Fin

A/N I hope you enjoyed my first organic fic that was created for tumblr, it did take about 6 hours including procrastinating to write but it was a joy to write.. Lastly any constructive feedback is welcome and reposting is welcome*please DO NOT under any circumstances share this as your own or on any other platform unless shared by myself*

[sweatygrealish]

just a dream (jack grealish x reader)

word count: 1612

warnings: bit angsty. 

sorry for any mistakes, I finished this along with a bottle of wine :)

*

He was sitting opposite you in the living-room, nervously fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt. It was an absolutely odd thing for him to do, and it worried you.

“I need to tell you something,” he began, not being able to look you in the eye. You needed him to say it, as soon as possible, so the emotion that was nearly choking you to unconsciousness could finally break free from your throat.

“What is it, Jack?” You demanded to know, your voice thick with impatience and fear. It was nearly unbearable.

“I slept with someone else.”

There it was. What had been hovering above your relationship for quite a few weeks now was out. It sat there, comfortably, between you and your long term boyfriend of five years, staring at you with a dead serious, almost threatening stare.

“So you don’t love me anymore.” You stated a fact. It wasn’t a question, nor an assumption, just a simple fucking fact.

Jack’s face lost all its colour. His open mouth closed and opened again, you could see him swallow hardly, his Adams apple bobbing up and down.

“Of course I love you, baby. That hasn’t changed, I-“ he tried to continue but you cut him off.

“No, Jack. You don’t. You don’t do something like this to someone you love.” You rose from your seat, noticing how weird your body felt, how much every fibre of your soul was hurting. Almost, your knees gave in, gave up carrying your body’s weight, the weight of your pain. Jack stood up with you, reaching out for your hands, but you were quick to withdraw them.

You walked a few steps back to the living-room door which led to the hall. With trembling hands you got a hold of the baseball bat which you always kept hidden behind the curtain, in case of a burglary when Jack was away. Jack watched with wide, incredulous eyes when you lunged out, aiming for the way too big and expensive TV he always spent too much time in front of anyway.

Shooting Jack one last glance,

you woke up.

Lying on your back, your pyjama and the bed sheets were clinging to your sweaty skin. You could literally see your heartbeat hammering through your chest so furiously it nearly hurt.

You were hurt. Hurt by the man sleeping soundly next to you with his warm hand resting on your belly. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyelashes fluttered delicately with the subtle movements of his eyes beneath closed lids.

6:32 am.

You gulped painfully. Your mouth was dry.

Carefully not to wake your boyfriend, you sneaked out of bed and grabbed a cardigan from the chair next to your dresser, tiptoeing out of the room. You knew Jack’s alarm clock would go off at eight, that gave you 90 minutes to pull yourself together. Of course you didn’t want to let a stupid dream ruin your day.

Upon going downstairs, you couldn’t ignore the urge to check the living-room in order to see if the TV was okay. It was fine. Everything was fine. You kept repeating the sentence inside your head like a mantra before brewing yourself a cup of tea.

Jack opened his eyes just two minutes before his alarm would wake him up. He grumbled something before discovering your empty, cold half of the bed. He sat up and frowned- you were usually up before him but most of the time, especially on a Saturday, he would wake up to you reading a book or checking your phone.

His gruff morning voice called out your name but no response came. Jack sighed and shuffled into the bathroom to get ready, hoping to find you downstairs when he was finished.

He did. You were in the middle of making breakfast, the heavenly smell of eggs wafted through the hall when he entered the kitchen, smiling.

“G’mornin’ love.”

“Good morning,” you half smiled, letting him pull you into his side.

“You’re up early,” he pointed out as he gratefully accepted a cup of tea from you, adding, “didn’t sleep well?”

He really knew you like the back of his hand. There wasn’t a chance you could hide something from him.

“Just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” You couldn’t look at him any more, afraid to give away too many of your thoughts. Worrying him about something like a stupid nightmare wasn’t something you were keen on doing right before an important training session of his.

You noticed he wasn’t satisfied with your answer, so you quickly handed him a plate with eggs on toast before he could ask any further questions.

“Thanks, you’re the best,” he smiled before his soft lips brushed your cheek.

During breakfast you had the strange feeling he was eyeing you very carefully. You hardly looked up from your plate to avoid any awkward moments or questions. For the first time in years, you just wanted him to leave for training so you could manage sorting your thoughts and emotions. You weren’t able to do that when he was staring at you from across the dining table, probably wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.

He knew something was definitely wrong. He wasn’t stupid. Maybe he was lacking intelligence as in cognition and logic, conversely his emotional intelligence was impressively high. So when it was time for him to go, your pulse quickened inevitably once again.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jack searched your face for any kind of hint, a blink of an eye, a frown, a wrinkle. But you kept it under control, nodding and just swallowing everything instead of spitting it out. You were sure it would all go away eventually before he came home in the afternoon.

“Alright. See you later. Miss you already.” He pecked your lips, mouth lingering a little too long for such an innocent kiss, and briefly tapped your nose with his index finger.

“Yeah, enjoy training.” Your reply was half-hearted and both of you were aware. Jack smiled awkwardly and approached the door, unsure weather to assure himself once more that, apparently, nothing was wrong. He decided against it, waving one last time, before shutting the door behind him.

Training was tough. Jack checked the time unusually often along with his phone for a message from you. A life sign, any sign to soothe his nerves. But- nothing. It was just agonizing- being absolutely sure that something wasn’t quite right but being absolutely clueless about what it could be.

He couldn’t run as fast as he wanted, couldn’t kick the ball as hard as he wanted, couldn’t mess around with his team mates.

All he wanted was get home to you, engulf you in his arms for the entire night and stroke your hair.

Finally it was time to go home. Jack was annoyed that he had to run some errands before eventually getting home, time that separated him from you furthermore. Stupid errands like stopping for gas and picking up his suit from the dry cleaners.

His pulse was racing unusually fast at parking the car in the driveway. Because he didn’t know what to expect, a feeling of insecurity was spreading in his chest.

Jack opened the front door and found the house practically silent, and for a split second he wondered if you were even there. After having closed the door he was able to make out a sound from the kitchen that could’ve been music from the distance. In search of the source, he strode through the rooms until he reached the back garden. He spotted you huddled up in a blanket with a glass of wine in hand, staring into the distance.

“Hey.”

Your head turned towards him with a weak smile.

“Hey.”

“Can I join you?”

You simply nodded, making some space for him on the lounger. For a moment, you just sat there in silence.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly said, nearly whispered.

Jack looked at you, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m sorry for being so distant today. It wasn’t fair on you. I’ve had a nightmare last night. You told me that you’d slept with someone else.”

Your words were lingering in the air like puffed out cigarette smoke. Jack didn’t know what to do, all the things he wanted to say weren’t coming together into a proper sentence. So instead, he wrapped both his arms tightly around you and pulled you into him.

It was the best reaction to your “confession” you could’ve wished for. Sometimes, silence indeed spoke louder than words.

“You know I’d never do that to you. Don’t you?” Jack whispered after a while.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, landing on his hand, “I know.”

You were still looking straight ahead, feeling his burning gaze on your face, not yet able to face him fully.

“Nightmares suck,” Jack muttered against your temple, his thumb stroking circles on the back of your hand, “everything’s alright, love. I’m here for you.”

In that moment, you were so thankful for him, so so thankful. You broke free from his grasp slightly to look into his hopeful eyes. There was a sparkle in them, along with one particular emotion, so visible it was impossible to miss.

Love.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you this morning. I felt stupid.”

Jack’s big, strong hands framed your face as he knocked his forehead against yours.

“It’s fine.” As soon as the words had left his lips, he kissed you tenderly, gently sucking your bottom lip. Without hesitation you kissed him back, sighing deeply in happiness.

You really were so lucky to have him.

[katsukikitten]

Rapacious - rə-ˈpā-shəs- excessively grasping or covetous, living on prey,  ravenous

(A rapacious appetite only for you my doll)

Hello and welcome to my first formal collab with the lovely @lady-bakuhoe Our thirsty dms finally turned into a full blown collab where our writing melds into one. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

✧Triggers and Warnings ✧

Pro Hero Dynamight, aged up AU, adult themes, such as intense sexual interaction, yandere behavior, mind break (?), branding, and dub con. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read any further. Thank you.

The snow comes down heavily, beautifully as it sticks and clings to anything it can. Blanketing the outside world in an unsullied shimmer bringing a smile to your face as you watch the sun dip low over the horizon. The light painting the world in stunning reds and pinks as it filters in through your bay window that faces the street. A small shiver runs through your spine as you wait impatiently for your warm tea, convincing yourself that the chill has nothing to do with your outfit. An oversized Red Riot t-shirt, a pair of black dolphin shorts and black thigh high socks, it was comfortable and you felt cute. Even if it was just for yourself, besides what else would one wear to their solo Netflix binging? Surely not pants. 

A rapid knock comes at the door. Harsh, precise as you jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your mug. 

Lifting your cell phone to check the time, wondering who could be knocking at this hour, it was far too late for any visitors and it surely wasn't the post. The icy snow ensured that most people would be snuggled into their couches with a warm cup of tea, tucked away from the harsh weather. Much like you were trying to do, maybe if you ignored it the unsuspecting visitor would move on. 

But another sharp knock echoes around your living room, urging your feet to move. You pad through your small townhouse, trying to get a glimpse through the window only for the unwanted guest to be standing just out of view. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the thick oak door, debating on whether to open it or not as another knock sounded from the other side. Curiosity with a hint of fear compels your fingers as you click your door onto the chain latch. Opening it slightly, looking out between the crack in the door to see who it was.

“H-hi.” Your eyes caught sight of the man outside your house, pupils widening in surprise at the sight of him. Messy ash blond spikes on top of his head as his hair faded to a low buzz cut at the sides, “Dynamight?” 

The man's scowl morphed into a smirk at your recognition, obviously proud that you knew who he was, his vermilion eyes glistening in the light gleaming from your house as you moved to take the door off the security latch, opening it fully so you could see him properly. His gaze immediately drank you in, glancing at the thigh high socks that hugged your thighs as he made his way up to the hem of your shirt, cherishing the exposed skin of your upper thighs until he noticed the shirt you were wearing. His nostrils flaring slightly at the sight of his best friend's face across your chest. It should be his. 

“My car broke down.” He motioned to the car that now sat motionless at the end of your drive, fresh snow already falling and covering its windscreen, “Can I come inside?” 

"Oh, um…" You're hesitant, technically you didn't know Dynamight but he was a pro hero. That meant he could be trusted right? Snow sticks to his blonde strands and shoulders. His hands and nose were a little red making it seem as if he had been in the cold a touch too long. Swallowing your fear you take a step back from the door, arm gesturing for him to come in. Silently elated he steps in as if he owns the place. What were the odds he would end up at your doorstep? 

"Um, can I offer you some coffee? Coco? Tea?" Your voice sounds small, stupid. Nervousness prickles over your skin as he sinks into your couch. 

"Tea is fine." His voice is silky and foreign in your warm home. He watches you with sharp eyes as you reach for a mug. Your short shorts ride up just a bit as your shirt gives him a tease of your back. 

Meanwhile you're buzzing from head to toe, THE one and ONLY Dynamight, the man you'd been dreaming of since his debut, the only face and voice that you ever imagined when your hands ventured into your soaked panties, was here. In your home, sitting on your couch and oh Gods...Which blanket did you have out? Was it his that you sprayed with his line of cologne so you would feel less lonely in your apartment? 

The kettle howls pulling you violently back to the task at hand. Should you ask him how he'd like his tea? You already know how he likes it, having read it in a magazine once committing it to memory in case you ever met him. But would that come off too strong? You settle on making it perfectly  in hopes it would paint you in the light of a "great hostess."  You grab onto the cup and turn to face the ill tempered hero head on. 

He turns away in time, relaxed on your couch as you offer him his cup. He takes it from your hands, his cool fingers brushing against yours. He takes a sip, peering at you over the rim. His vermillion eyes cause your stomach to flip as you nervously twist the hem of your shirt. His eyes rake over you with a smirk before they land on your worrying hands and that damned Red Riot shirt. Suddenly you're hyper aware of your inappropriate outfit, tugging your shirt over your exposed skin. 

His large palm settles on your thigh, starling you. 

"The outfit isn't the problem. I just think you look much better in my shirt." He tugs at the hem, "Maybe you should take this one off." 

“W-what?” You stammered, your body instinctively shrinking away from his touch.

“There’s just something about the way my face looks stretched against those tits.” He smirked, taking a sip of the warm mug before slipping it into your coffee table.

“What do you mean?” Confusion evident in your tone. What was he talking about? Your Dynamight merchandise? How would he have any idea about how much of a fan you were of him, just how many of his shirts sat in your closet right now. 

“Don’t act all coy.” Bakugou continued, turning his body to face yours on the couch, a dark look in his vermillion eyes as his fingers danced higher up your exposed thigh, feeling a warmth begin to seep from his palm as his cool calloused fingertips dig into your skin, “You know exactly what you’re doing.” 

“I assure you, Dynamight.” Bakugou groaned at the way his hero name sounded spilling from your lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Every day you’re out there being a fuckin’ tease.” He growled, biting your lip as you felt his blunt fingernails digging into the plush of your thigh, “Prancing around in these short fuckin’ shorts and my shirts.” 

Wait, had he seen you wearing his merch before? Had he seen you in his clothes? How? You were certain he’d never seen the multiple selfies you’d take of yourself to upload onto social media, always too scared to tag your favourite Hero. Instead proclaiming your love for him shamelessly on your socials, gushing about how he was the perfect hero. Still, even if he was lurking on your accounts, he couldn't possibly remember someone as lowly as you. 

“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you?” He snarled, his other hand moving up to palm your breast through your shirt, the action catching you by surprise as you gasped, “You wanted me to see you acting like such a slut.”

“N-no, Dynamight. I wasn’t-” You stammer as you think back, trying to remember all of the times you thought you felt a weighted gaze on you. Only to look over your shoulder to find nothing before submerging yourself back into your mundane world.

"Wasn't what? You mean you weren't trying to show the whole neighborhood your ass when you bent over 'pulling weeds'?" His palm becomes uncomfortably hot as his voice dips lower, lips brushing your ear as you drown in his spiced caramel scent. 

"Maybe you heard about your new neighbor Pro Hero Red Riot, wanted to show off for him? Or maybe you're just a slut who loves the attention?" 

Your blood runs cold, icy despite his burning palm, you swallow thickly as he continues to recite your summer as if reading from a list. 

"You know exactly what you're doing don'tchya? So many men have changed their jogging route to include your street, even if it is well out of their way. They slow their pace in front of your house when you're outside. Bent over, head lost in your garden and your skin tight shorts show your plump lips, your thick thighs and that supple, soft ass. Tits almost falling out from your crop tops as you must refuse to wear a bra. But you're such a good girl, reminding everyone who you belong to when you wear those shorts with my name across the ass." 

He leans away from you to hold your gaze. A shiver runs up your spine, you had never posted those shorts. The fan made ones that say "Bakugou's" across the ass, fuck how did he-?

He reads the question across your face, a nasty smirk dances on his cruel lips as he takes delight in the fear that blows your pupils wide. 

"I've been watching you Princess." You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the realisation, “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

You didn’t.

“That’s why you put on such a show for me every time, isn’t it?” 

 You hadn’t noticed your favourite Pro-Hero had been watching you all this time. You were beyond excited when Red Riot had moved into the neighbourhood, wishing you’d catch a glimpse of him each time you left your house. Getting up early some mornings just to see the red head stretching for his morning run, his muscles taut across his thick frame. But not once had Bakugou been anywhere in sight. You were sure you'd remember the ash blonde standing next to your second favorite hero. 

“You do it on purpose.” Bakugou growled, his hand moving to your exposed waist, stroking against your naked skin as his fingers dipped underneath your top, “It turns you on doesn’t it? Everyone looking at your slutty little body.”

“No, please. It doesn’t- I’m not.” You tried to move away from him, but he already had your body trapped between the arm of the couch and his large, muscular frame. 

“All those eyes on you and you don’t give a fuck.” Bakugou’s large palm grasps your round breast, groaning when he feels your nipple pebbled underneath his touch, “You want everyone to see you.”

Before you have a moment to object, to tell him how wrong he is, his lips are already against yours in a sultry kiss. Your mind hazy as he immediately prods your lips with his tongue, desperate for entrance as he invades your mouth. You couldn’t believe what was happening, The Dynamight was inside your house. Your entire body burning as his heat engulfed you, this was something you’d dreamed about more than you could recollect. The amount of nights you’d touched yourself to the thought of his hands dancing across your body. Trying to imagine how it would feel to be completely ravaged by him, but now that he was here in the flesh you were nervous. The reality of the situation slowly consumes your body as your heart beats with more intensity. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” Bakugou rasps huskily as he tugs your shirt up and over your breasts, his vermilion eyes taking in the sight of your exposed chest to his prying eyes, “Even better than I imagined.”

You nervously tried to move your arms to your chest, trying to hide your body from his burning gaze, but his hand was quick to grab your wrist, tugging your arm away with a glare, “Don’t.”

You averted your eyes from his own, biting your bottom lip as he lowered his face to your chest. His tongue tentatively coming out to lap around your darkened areola, closing his lips around your hardened nipple as he began to suck on the tender skin. Your head falling onto the back of the couch as you let out a low whine, one of your hands coming up to brush through his buzzed undercut, stroking against the spiky hair as you arched your back into his touch. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this, sweetheart.” He murmured around your nipple, his warm breath fanning against your skin as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. An airy gasp leaving your parted lips at the sensation as you involuntarily arched your back into his touch, “Every fuckin’ time I saw you-”

Wait? Every time he saw you? How often did he seek out your address? How many times did his crimson eyes burn into your skin without your noticing? 

Your eyes dart to the large bay window, holding eye contact with yourself as you stare at your reflection. A pitiful and clear sight as the blonde's hands groped your exposed tits. If the pro hero was brazen enough to peer through your unobstructed window, just how many other eyes fall onto you? 

“When I saw you in my signed debut Dynamight shirt, I knew I had to have you.” His lips curving into a grin against your skin as his tongue lapped at your hardened nipple, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger, “There’s just something about the sight of you in my clothes.”

At the mention of your rare signed shirt your body goes rigid, numb. If he had seen you in the shirt you mostly kept tucked away for safekeeping, he had seen everything hadn't he? 

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Princess.” He released your nipple with a pop, palming your breast with a grin as he pressed his lips against your own, “Weren’t shy when you were putting on a show for everyone, were you?”

Your bottom lip trembled at the suggestion, worrying it between your teeth as you felt Bakugou lean forward to grab your wrist in a large hand, the scent of his quirk filling the air as you felt the heat radiating from his palm. Vermilion eyes glancing down at your half-lidded ones, a glazed expression over your features as you focused on his touch.

“Look at what you fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart.” Bakugou tightened his grip on your wrist, moving your hand towards his crotch. His cock bulging against his pants, desperate to be released as he lay your palm against him. Gasping at the sensation as your palm made contact with the fabric, feeling just how hard he was for you underneath the denim.

All the while his thoughts are consumed by you, your smell, the look of surprise on your face. The feel of your skin against his and the heat of your breath tickling his ear when he pins you to the couch. 

All of the things he'd been imagining for the last few months. Your small hand against his large, twitching cock. Even through the fabric your warmth is hypnotizing, drawing him in and captivating him with every inch of you.

Bakugou's problem is that he can be greedy, hungry for more. Wanting nothing but the best and much like his sun sign, once he had his eyes set on something nothing could overcome his stubborn ambition. Not even the small look of fear in your eyes but even he can see that it is fading, melding into desire. He watches your fingers flutter, teasingly trying to figure out just how big and girthy he really was. Your heart races as you stare into his clouded vermillion eyes. Blood running hot as your mouth salivates, imagining the same thing he is. 

How does it taste? 

You let out a soft whine, fingers prodding at the head earning you a borderline feral growl. 

"Quit being a fucking tease and take it out, Princess." He groans, you freeze at his bold request.

"B..but…" He crowds you as your protests die in your throat. His lips brushing against your ear as he breathes in your sweet shampoo. 

"But what Princess? Scared I'll fuck you stupid?" He nips at the shell of your ear, chuckling darkly when you shiver, "Or are you scared you'll get addicted to how I taste?" 

"T-taste?" 

"Aw look at you acting all fuckin shy?" He squeezes your thighs with a deadly grip, fingers creeping between them, "You weren't so shy last week sitting in this spot were you?" 

You freeze as you think back to last week, knowing exactly what you were doing, eyes glancing over his broad shoulder to see the snow coming down in sheets through the large bay windows. You thought you were high enough and far enough away from the road, there, there was no way he saw right? 

His fingers press against your clothed sex, rubbing rough circles unable to keep the deadly smirk off of his lips. 

"Your phone in one hand and your other right here. Or maybe," He moves the dark fabric to the side, sliding his fingers to your clit, "It was here." 

You bite back your moans as the rough pad of his fingers circle your clit, just barely grazing over it in an agonizing purposeful fashion. 

"What were you watching again? Amateur porn right? POV with the guy's face hidden but he was in a knock off Dynamight suit wasn't he?" He pulls back to watch your face, twisting with pleasure and horror, body arching towards his touch as your head swims. Cunt clenching as he dips closer to your core for slick. 

"And what did that slutty mouth say?" His smile is cocky, holding eye contact. Silence sits between the two of you as your eyes flutter. He pulls his hand away from your throbbing clit, squeezing against your pulse point.

"I asked a question, Kitten. Now answer it." His voice is dark. 

"Dy-Dynamight." You gasp out, he ruts his hips against your leg. 

"Again." His free hand slips back between your folds, fingers setting a rapid pace that already has you teetering on the edge already. 

"Dynamight!" 

"Again. Say my name again." His fingers work you over as the coil unexpectedly snaps in your stomach. 

"Katuskiiii." You gasp and whine, shamefully cumming all over his thick digits. He groans, shoving his fingers into your cunt to feel you grip onto him, he cannot wait to feel that pretty pussy molding to his aching cock. 

But he would wait, for now. 

"Good girl." He praises, pulling his fingers from your core, licking up them. Savoring your essence as you watch his eyes flutter paying you a high compliment. In quick motions he throws a pillow onto the solid hardwood floor, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you onto the plush cushion. His free hand undoing his belt with deft fingers before he pulls his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, the head leaking precum as you lick your lips. 

"You're gonna keep being a good girl for me right, Princess?" He coos, dragging his cock across your lips, smearing his sweet and salty pre from cheek to cheek. 

"Fuck do you know how long I've been dreaming of your lips around my cock?" He groans, pulling your hair back to force eye contact. 

"How, how long?" Your question prompts that nasty smile as his crimson eyes gleam with cruelty and lust.

"Months." 

And with that he pulls your hair back hard enough that you cry out in pain. Bakugou takes the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth. Bottoming out at the back of your throat causing you to gag, your spit eases the roughness of his slow harsh thrusts as your eyes water. 

Nothing could have prepared you for feeling Bakugou inside you for the first time, your wildest fantasies didn’t equate to this. The sheer size of his thick, bulging cock made it difficult for you to take him inside your mouth. The prominent veins that forked along the side dragging against your cheek as he eased you down on his length. Fingers stroking through your hair sweetly, a stark contrast to his previous movements. His husky voice cooing down at you, gentle praises that had you keening, desperate to hear more. The red, swollen tip prodding against the back of your throat as you gagged around him, a mixture of spit and pre dribbling down your chin as you tried to fit more of him inside your mouth hungrily. 

“So fuckin’ greedy.” Bakugou grunted, his fingers carding into your messy hair and tugging harshly against the root, pressing you further down his aching cock. Watching the way your cheeks hollowed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. The movement causing fresh tears to clump in your lashes as you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. His coarse blond pubic hairs tickling your skin as he held your head down on his cock. 

Struggling for oxygen as your tongue lashed against the underside of his length, the salty sweet taste of his cum mixed with the lack of oxygen making you light headed as you felt yourself falling deeper into him. Teeth grazing his sensitive skin as you tried to relax your throat, innocent eyes gazing up at him. The sight almost had him cumming on the spot, it was something he’d thought about for months, stroking himself raw to the thought of your lips wrapped around him. You felt gentle tremors flowing through your body as he finally allowed you a moment of respite, tugging you off his length roughly as you gasped for air.

“So pretty for me,” His warm palm stroked against your cheek, dipping his thumb between your parted lips as he felt you instinctively close your mouth around it. Your tongue swirling around the calloused pad of his thumb as you heard him groan above you, “Look at you.”

“How many times have you played with that slutty little pussy to the thought of me, hah?” Bakugou mused, his thumb slipping from your mouth as he pulled down your lower lip, watching the way your face followed after his hand to try and pull him back in.

“P-please.” You trembled, already feeling your clit throbbing painfully between your thighs, already feeling unsatiated as crimson eyes glared down at you.

“I bet you’ve never had anything this big inside you,” He wrapped his palm around his cock, smirking when he noticed your eyes hyper focused on him, “Have you?”

You shook your head nervously, even the toys you’d experimented before didn’t equate to his sheer size, “N-no, Dynamight.”

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, Princess.” Bakugou’s thoughts already flooding to how your tight little cunt would feel being split around his cock. Moulding it to his size so you’d never be satisfied with anything or anyone else. You were going to be his and his alone, and he’d do anything to ensure that happened, “Wanna feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, yeah?”

His words sending more pleasurable jolts to your core, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he helped you to your feet, his large palms keeping against your hips as he dipped his fingers beneath the hem of your shorts. Sliding the material down your thighs with one rough tug, exposing your naked body to his prying eyes. The sight of you completely bare in front of him had his cock twitching almost painfully, you were even more perfect than he had imagined.

“C’mere, Princess.” He cooed gently, a stark contrast to his earlier actions. You keened as you slid onto his lap, feeling his thick cock pressed snugly between your folds as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Your fingertips digging into his shirt as you tried feebly to get him to take it off.

“So needy,” He smirked, leaning forward to tug his shirt up and over his head. His chiselled abs now on full display as you focused in on each sharp ridge. He was even more perfect in person, and you couldn’t quite believe that the Dynamight was now in front of you.

Bakugou’s large palms moved back to your hips, pressing you down against his cock as you felt the length stroke against your slit, involuntarily grinding down against him as you tried to give your clit some much needed stimulation. The action did not go unnoticed by Bakugou who smirked at your desperation, digging his fingertips into your skin as he began to circle your hips against his cock. 

“You’re soaking my cock and I haven’t even put it in yet,” He smirked as he felt your slick coating his length, watching in amusement as you continued to grind yourself against him, trying to give yourself some relief, “Bet you could get yourself off just like this, hah?”

“No,” You whined, “Please,”

“Please, what?” He coaxed, his fingers slipping between your bodies to tease your puffy clit, a harsh laugh leaving his lips when he felt the way your body jerked at his touch.

“Please,” You trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous and self-conscious that you were now very much naked in front of your favourite Pro-Hero.

“You don’t seem to want it enough, Princess.” Bakugou teased, moving you away from his cock as you groaned in displeasure. Your eyes looking down at his shaft that was now coated in a layer of your slick. Fresh pre spilling from the tip as you reached out to grab him between your fingers. Bakugou’s reflexes were quicker as he caught your wrist in his large palm, giving you a warning look as his nostrils flared. 

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He moved his hands back to grab your ass, kneading the round mounds as he moved you to hover over his cock, vermilion eyes gazing up at you as he waited for you to speak, “You want my cock?”

“Yeah-” You felt your head nodding before you’d even had a chance to think, desperate to feel him sliding inside your warmth, splitting you open as he buried himself deep inside you. 

“Yeah?” He mocked, tilting his head to the side as he pressed a kiss against your pebbled nipple, “Then fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Please, Dynamight.” You rolled your hips again, grinding against nothing as you tried to create some friction between your thighs, “Want your cock.”

A groan spilled from his lips at such blunt words leaving your pouty lips, calloused fingertips digging into your supple flesh as he pressed you down on the head of his cock. The tip stretching you out slightly as you tried to drop your hips down on him, wanting to feel him deep inside you.

“You want Dynamight to fuck this slutty pussy?” He pulled you away from his cock which caused a needy whine to spill from your lips, trying to angle your hips back towards his length.

Bakugou’s palm wrapping around his cock to drag the swollen, reddened tip along your sopping folds. Feeling your slick coat his skin as it mingled with his pre, watching the way your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his cockhead brushing against your clit.

“Yes.” You hissed, already anticipating the pleasurable stretch his girth would create inside you. The thick head already back at your tight entrance as he watched you shamelessly try and drop your hips down onto him. 

"Yes what?" His voice is dark with pleasure as he glares up at you, a pitiful mess. He's toying with you, as a cat does a mouse and you feel utterly embarrassed. This was Pro hero Dynamight damn it, you wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to be sexy, not some whiny bitch in heat. 

Little did you know how much Bakugou loved it, lived for it as he gently bounced you on just the tip. Driving you wild as you whined, all the while he smirked. 

"Please Katsuki-sama." Your nails rake down his forearms, "Please, please fuck me." 

"That's my good girl." He slams you down on his cock in one swift motion causing your vision to spot. He relishes the way you flutter around him, adjusting as a shiver runs up your spine. 

"Now fuck yourself on my cock, Princess." 

"But-" He wraps his hand around your throat, malice and lust dance in his eyes as his free hand travels to your thigh. Palm heating with each pound of your heart until it begins to become too much, too hot.

"Ride me like you did your fingers last week. You were thinking of me then weren't you, pervert?” You gasped at his crude words, the idea that he had been watching you while you dipped your fingers inside your tight cunt had embarrassment ebbing in your core. Your body trembling as the object of your affections degraded you, “Wishing it was me finger fuckin’ that pretty pussy, yeah?”

Unable to stop the shameless moan that left your parted lips, the sound restricted to a strangled gasp as he kept his palm wrapped tightly around your jugular. 

“Or were you thinking of Red Riot since you love wearing his merch so much, hah.” Bakugou goaded, you could feel his grip against you tightening as his palms heated up dangerously, “Wishing he’d come in and bend you over like the little slut you are.”

“N-no,” You tried to gasp out, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen that flowed through your body.

Bakugou loosened his grip around your neck, keeping his palm against your skin as he leaned his head closer to yours, his warm breath fanning your face as vermilion eyes bored into your own, “What was that?”

“J-just you, Dynamight.” You rasped, a rush of air filling your lungs as your chest heaved against him, “Only for you-”

“Yeah?” His lips curled into a cocky grin, immediately tightening his grip around your throat once more, “That’s fuckin’ right, you should be thinking about me when you play with that sloppy pussy.”

He squeezes both your throat and thigh harder. You rock your hips, fucking yourself on his fat cock as you gasp for air, hands desperately holding onto toned arms for support as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. 

“Now I want you to fuckin' show me how much of a Dynamight fan you really are." He groans at the way you grip around him, tongue lulling past his smirk for just as second. 

If you had to try and describe this feeling it would be something akin to euphoria, a constant throb ebbing through your cunt at the dull stretch his cock caused around your core. His cock moulding you to his shape as he bounced you on his lap, the thick jutting veins along his girth dragging against your inner walls with each pronounced thrust. Desperate cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as he fucked himself into you, hungrily searching to pull more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips. You felt pearly tears begin to clump in your lashes as he fucked into your tight cunt with vigour, uncaring for giving you a moment of respite as he hungrily used you for his own pleasure. 

“Aw, you gonna cry, Princess?” He sneered, vermilion eyes gazing down at your own as he kept his pace, “I know you fuckin’ love it. I can feel you squeezing my cock.”

“Please-” You couldn’t think of the words, your mind foggy with the juxtaposition of pleasure and pain overwhelming you as he continued to fuck you with reckless abandon. 

“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid, dumbass.” He grunted, the calloused pads of his fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs, crude noising filling the air as you could hear just how wet you were for him, “That sloppy pussy is drooling all over my cock.”

"Who do you belong to?" His husky voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling your heart into your stomach. 

"You." You gasp as the heat of his palm on your leg begins to burn, skin warping beneath his touch. Hand glowing golden as if he were a God while his quirk begins to really activate. The smell of spiced caramel, smoke and scalded flesh cling to the couch and invade your senses as a crude whimper leaves your parted lips. The skin that he’d just burned throbbing under his touch, as heat surged through your body. His sharp thrusts helping to morph the pain you felt into a pure, unabashed pleasure as he watched you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Good girl. Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to." Your eyes flicker away from his face before he uses his finger behind your jaw to meet his gaze, "Look at your King when you cum."

The combination of pleasure and pain paired with the thought of being his makes that delicate coil snap. Your body tenses and freezes as you shake atop his lap, biting nails drawing blood on his arms. He smirks, fucking up into you as another mind numbing orgasim washes over your body. Without withdrawing himself he flips the two of you against the couch. 

“Fuck, look at you.” Your back presses into the cushions as he towers over you. Gazing down and into your eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, switching hands to place one on your unburnt thigh, “So fuckin’ pretty.”

The telltale sounds of his quirk sound in the room as his hands crackle, heating his other palm, readying himself to repeat the action. To mark your body and claim you as his own, so if anyone dared to look at you they would know exactly who you belonged. Permanent hand prints marking you as his. No one else was allowed to have you, not that you had a choice, at least not anymore. 

Bakugou hissed as he felt your cunt continue to flutter around him in the aftershocks of your climax, snapping his hips as his pelvis hits against your puffy clit, head swimming from both pleasure and your primal need to breathe that was being wholly denied.

Bakugou was going to ruin you and you'd let him. 

"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Another possessive question that rockets you to the edge, body hoping for another mark, to make you symmetrical. 

Whole. 

"You." Another raspy breath but it's enough for Bakugou to hear. A silent moan tears from your throat as you try to keep your eyes locked with his. Pain blooming on your thigh with a delicious bite. 

 “What was that?” He snarled, pressing your thigh up against your chest as his arm slid underneath your knee, resting your calf over his shoulder as he changed the angle of his thrusts, his cock delving deeper between your folds as you felt the swollen tip bruising your cervix with each hard rut of his hips, “Say my name.”

“Dynamight.” You called out, already feeling your body throbbing in the telltale signs of another orgasm, your thighs quivering as you felt Bakugou fuck your body into the couch hard before using his grip on your thigh to drag you back into him. 

The crude sound of skin against skin vibrated around the room as his meaty balls slapped against the swell of your ass, Bakugou’s muscular frame dwarfing your own as he used you for his own pleasure. His own little cocksleeve that would succumb to his every request, you would be his and his alone to use as he pleased. 

“Again.” A low growl sounded from the back of his throat, a possessive undertone to it as he urged you on, “Say it again.”

“Dynamight.” You managed to whimper through sobs, tears trickling down your temples now and soaking into your messy hair. The sound of his name spilling from your lips made him readjust his thrusts with newfound intensity. 

“That’s fuckin’ right. Red Riot would never fuck you this good, hah?” He provoked, a clear sign of dominance over you, “You’re fuckin’ made for my cock.”

A cry slipping from your lips as he gave a particularly hard thrust inside your aching cunt, the tip of his length pounding against your cervix as he worked to claim your body as his own, trying to wipe thoughts of anyone else from your mind so all you could think about in this moment was his fat cock buried deep inside your tight heat.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted, his eyes mapping out your body as he worked himself against you, “Feel so good.”

Your breasts bounced with the intensity of his thrusts as he felt your inner walls quivering around his cock, already feeling another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil inside you impossibly tight as you tried to remember to breathe. Your vision hazy as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded, white dots blanking your vision as you shook beneath him.

“You gonna cum again already? Greedy fuckin’ bitch.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a grin as he felt your fingernails dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shapes in their wake as a dull ache tingled against his skin at the sensation, “My cock’s better than your fuckin’ fingers, yeah?”

“Yes,” You hissed, your toes curling as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure. Your tight heat clenching around Bakugou’s cock as an usual sensation flowed through you, an intense throb in your core as you felt the unwavering urge to pee. Tightening your thighs around Bakugou’s firm body in an attempt to stop it from happening as wracked sobs left your body, your lower lip trembling as the sensation became too much. Too intense, too overwhelming as you allowed it to take over, your body crying out as you came. A clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs and soaking Bakugou’s crotch, his pace never once faltering as he fucked you through the sensation.

“Look at you, you messy fuckin’ slut” He howled in pleasure as he watched the liquid seep from your folds, “Look at your sloppy little pussy soakin’ my cock.”

“I’m sorry-” You cried out in embarrassment, feeling your heart pound in your chest as you saw his abdomen glistening with your release, “I didn’t mean-”

“What? You never fuckin’ squirted before?” Bakugou’s lips curled into a sly smile, his chest puffed out in pride, “Let’s see if you can do it again.”

Bakugou slipped a hand between your connected bodies to press four fingers against your clit, rubbing it frantically side to side as he tried to prolong the sensation, watching to see more of the clear liquid escape your heat. 

"I can make this pretty little cunt do what I want. Wanna know why?" He leans in with a deadly grin on his lips,  "Cause I own it." 

You cried out as you felt the sensation flowing through you once more, a dull ache in your lower body as more of the clear liquid gushed from your folds. The sight made Bakugou smirk with glee, his fingers relentless against your sensitive nub.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He goaded, feeling your body trying to shy away from him as you withered beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, “That fuckin’ desperate.”

“P-please,” You whimpered, your entire body felt unbearably hot. Unable to think coherently as Bakugou continued pounding his thick girth into your core, his warm breath fanning your face as he hovered above you.

“P-please,” He mocked, tilting his head as he glanced down at you, “Please, what?”

“‘S too much,” You stammered, your hand reaching down to wrap around his wrist, trying to tug his fingers away from their assault against your clit.

The movement made him growl, baring his teeth as his hand moved from your clit, reaching up to wrap around the curve of your neck instead as he instantly tightened his grip against your jugular. The action caused your eyes to widen in surprise before your soft whines turned into hungry pants as you tried to gasp for air. Bakugou’s consistent thrusts into your sloppy hole made it difficult to think straight, your body fully focused on the sight of him above you while his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. 

“Gonna fill that sloppy little pussy with cum, yeah?” You flushed at the suggestion, already feeling your inner walls fluttering around his cock at the thought, squeezing his girth as it created more friction as he dragged his cock along your velvety walls, his grip on your neck tightening as you felt your cunt clench around his cock in response, “You’re gonna look so pretty for me all full of my cum, Princess.”

A guttural groan spilled from his parted lips as you watched his eyes roll back, his thrusts stuttering as he came, bottoming out inside you as white hot spurts of cum splashed against your inner walls. His palms stroking along your exposed skin, sliding against the thin sheen of sweat that coated your body as he came down from his climax, humping a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt as he cherished the sweet way your walls continued to flutter around him. 

You whined as Bakugou slowly eased his hips back, slipping his softening cock out of your quivering folds. His eyes immediately focused on your abused hole as he watched his cum begin to trickle out of you as it dribbled down towards your ass. Unable to resist reaching a finger out to collect the mixture, scooping it up as he slowly pushed it back inside you. Smirking at the way you tried to bat his hand away from your overstimulated folds, this only making him want to tease you more as he moved his finger to press against your inner walls. Swallowing thickly as he felt your body involuntarily clamping down around him in an attempt to pull him back inside you. 

“Such a good girl for me, Princess.” He moved his fingers up to stroke against your puffy clit, laughing at the way you arched your hips away from his touch, trying to stop him from teasing your satiated clit, “Took my cock so well.” 

You mewl in response, clutching your arms to yourself as you shake from the previous events. You looked so small and scared causing a sharp pain to bolt through Bakugou's chest. God he wanted you in his care even more now.

“You were even more perfect than I imagined.” He pulls you to him, trapping you in his embrace as he presses your face into his chest. Hand smoothing your damp hair as he hums lightly. His eyes catching sight of the Red Riot shirt he’d discarded to the floor, a thought occurred to him, one he cannot keep to himself, as another sadistic smile settled on his lips. 

“Kirishima told me not to come over here, said to leave you alone-” He pulls you back so you can look at him, and gods the look you're giving him. Eyes soft and submissive, hazed over in mind numbing pleasure as you float off somewhere far away. Only Bakugou's arms are keeping you bound to Earth. “But I was right wasn’t I, Princess?”

You'll never be able to escape his gravity now. 

“He just wanted you for himself.” His fingers feather over your body before he stands, guessing where the first aid could be. You clutch onto his shirt, eyes desperately glued to your new God as the fading sun washes him over in deep hues of red. The way you look at him makes his cock twitch, feeling the intense power he already holds over you. 

"You'll let your King go." A growl as his fingers find your throat, you nod with fresh tears catching on long lashes as he steps away. Sobbing from his absence before he returns. 

"Don't be a baby, I wasn't that far Princess." His voice all bite while his hands speak the truth. Calloused and scared fingers pressing ointment into the fresh burns tenderly. 

“But you’re mine now aren’t you Princess?” He dots over the burns, rubbing the salve in gently, “All mine.”

He leans away from you, cruelty ever plastered on his smirking lips. 

“Maybe I should show Red Riot what you look like right now, hah?” He pulls out his phone, going to snap a picture. You're hesitant at first but then move to strike a pose, wide eyes looking into the lens of the camera as Bakugou angles it to get the dark bruises and scars that now marr your perfect skin. "Fuck, I think showing him what a good girl you are in person would be much better." 

“W-we shouldn’t-“ You mumble, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of your sweet neighbour seeing you like this, utterly debauched because of Pro-Hero Dynamight. 

“Don’t be shy, pretty girl.” He coos uncharacteristically, almost mocking you as he watches your lower lip tremble, “I’m sure Red Riot would love to see you like this. Probably jerks himself raw to the thought of you.”

He eases you to your feet, sliding your shorts over your thighs as you hiss when they get to the fresh brand. Your mouth waters from pain as you look down at them. His perfect palm prints etched into your skin forever. You bite your bottom lip, wanting more from Bakugou who slips his jacket over your shoulders before putting your snow boots onto your feet. He makes his way to the door.

"Comin' pervert?" He asks before you rush to your feet,  “Shall we show Red Riot what a desperate little slut his neighbour is?” 

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, engulfing you in his mesmerizing scent and heat. You nod slowly, wanting nothing more than to please your new caretaker. 

“Gotta remind that asshole who the fuck you belong to.”

[venomous--fics]

Anon requested: I was wondering if we could get an eddie x daughter!reader where she's self harmed in the past. she's either a.) started again and he finds out. or b.) she's having the urge again and eddie comforts her?

A/n: This is all done with love and respect, and I hope this finds you well. And I hope, where ever you are, that you are having a good day. And even though I might still feel like a stranger, I hope my love and well wishes make it to you. Despite giving you this, in the end, all I can ever really do is hope that you'll be okay. And, despite it all, I'm positive you will be fine. <3 If nothing else, just know that I am here, and you are loved.

It's night again. The moon has taken its place high up in the dark blue sky, and the stars twinkled softly. The city seemed so quiet, which was a bit odd, but you never really paid any mind to the noises anyways. The world was loud enough without you having to fixate on a car or a cat every five minutes.

You sat on the edge of your bed, slouched forward. You were so tired, and worn so thin. Sometimes you hoped that the gentlest breeze would take you away. That'd be so much easier, and would probably feel better too.

The door opened slightly with a soft knock, "You doing okay? Haven't seen you in awhile."

Not knowing what to say, you gave a tired shrug. Normally you'd muster up a half sentence, but not tonight.

"Can I come in?"

You lifted your head to look out the window, and then to your alarm clock. You nodded, knowing that it'd be better to have company than to be alone. Even if you felt that being alone would be better. All these thoughts and feelings were so confusing.

Eddie was sure to leave the door open a smidge behind him. He walked over as quietly as he could and took a seat right next to you. The mattress dipped with his weight, and you did your best to pay no mind.

"Can I get you anything?"

You looked at him from the corner of your eye before looking back down, shaking your head. Understanding that you weren't exactly in the mood for small talk, Eddie sat in silence with you for a few minutes.

"Are you okay?"

He just wanted confirmation, but at the say time he didn't want to overstep. He's never been good in these situations, but he always made sure to do his best and work with what he had available. Even if that was nothing at times, he still made do. All for you.

You crossed your arms over your lap and leaned forward a little more. There was yet another momentary pause before you felt a hand on your back. You jumped a little, but all in all, your final reaction was to just look over at Eddie.

He was piecing together all the words in his head. He had meant to say something beforehand, but it just got stuck. Typical, maybe, but something really needed to be said, right? Or was silence better?

"It's okay if you're not." Eddie swallowed any of his own fear, just to hopefully settle your own, "Seriously, it's totally fine to not be okay. And if you don't wanna talk about it, we don't have to, but I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

A few tears welled up in your eyes and you nodded.

"I know I suck when it comes to stuff like this, but believe me when I say that everything's going to turn out just fine."

You wiped your face, and the weight on the bed shifted a little as Eddie grabbed a stray blanket and gently put it over your shoulders. "There you go," He said as he straightened it out, "Is that good?"

You gave a weak nod.

"Can I get you anything to eat? Maybe some hot chocolate and toast- Or, maybe not toast."

"That sounds alright." You replied quietly, "I guess."

"We're making progress."

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders. The warmth felt smothering, yet it was welcoming. Heavy and light all at the same time.

Eddie got up to go prepare a snack for you, and he made sure to be extra loud. You sat up a little straighter to hear better. You gave a sparing glance back down, rubbing your arms. Eddie returned about 2 minutes later with everything. He set it on your bedside table and sat down by you once more.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You hesitated as you looked over at the mug of coco and the plate that was littered with snacks. "You're too nice to me-"

"Too nice?" He nearly chuckled, "I don't think I'm nice enough."

Your eyes lowered back to the floor for a second, "I didn't do anything, if that's what you were wondering. I just..."

"It's okay, you don't have to force yourself to say anything. I get it." Eddie pulled you in a slightly awkward hug, "I'll stay here as long as you need, okay? I'm not going to go anywhere unless you want me to."

You patted his arm, letting him know that you appreciated the gesture.

"I'm going to do everything I can to make you feel better. I don't care if I have to dress up as a clown and do cartwheels, I'll do it."

"That won't be necessary." You replied, "But I'll keep it in mind."

"That's the spirit."

"I'm sorry for being like this."

"WHat are you apologizing for? It's not your fault." Eddie sounded so positive about that, "Things like this are never your fault, and I would never blame you."

"But-"

"No if, ands or buts." Eddie allowed you to readjust so you were a little comfier, "Things like this are just tricky. It's all hard to understand and to process. But you're not alone. I'm going to be here to pull you to shore if you think you're drowning."

Your gaze found its way back to the mug and plate, "Thank you."

"It's no problem. Humans are just finnicky things. It's okay to need help. Sometimes all you need is a good support system and someone to help put you back together."

"You're terrible at assembling things." You retorted, sitting up and grabbing the cup.

"I'll read the manual this time. But I swear I'll help you so much that you'll get annoyed."

"Don't think that's possible."

"I'll just have to see if it is."

It was quiet once again as you enjoyed the things Eddie had prepped for you. The itch was still there, but it was dwindling for the time being. You didn't want to say it, but it felt nice to have someone in your corner- But of course you knew that he'd always be in your corner.

"Are you okay?" He asked again after a while.

You thought about it. It was okay to not be okay, that is what he said.

"Not a hundred percent." You replied, "But I'll...I'll get there."

"Wonderful." He replied, "Would a movie help? I was going to pop some popcorn."

"What movie?"

Eddie shrugged with a smile, "You can pick."

"Thank you." You said again, grateful to have him around.

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[emmyhem]

always (l.r.h) part two

a/n: hi everybody! here is always part two, this is actually one of my favorite writings and one that I was looking forward to writing and posting a lot. it’s another angsty piece but with a sappy happy ending :) also it’s unedited but what else is new. i’ll probably post again tomorrow either a bestfriend!calum piece or a roomate!luke piece that are titled in my masterlist. i hope everyone enjoys and is having a wonderful day. i definitely am after that livestream today. (i would say that i didn’t cry because of how good and happy they all looked but that would be a lie) anyway i hope you enjoy and as always my messages are always open to chat or whatever and feedback and comments are always appreciated. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: it’s time for you decide whether or not luke’s mistake is worth losing the love of your life. 

warning(s): mentions of alcohol, cursing, angst (but with a happy ending), self doubt, insecurity, mention of throwing up 

word count: 2.9k

pt. 1

The longer you watched the window the more you were convinced mother nature was taunting you. The rain droplets that cascaded down the glass mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you left Luke speechless in the driveway. It had to be for your benefit, I mean it was Los Angeles. California was in a drought for god’s sake. 

Despite the fact that nature was mocking you, you couldn’t dare pull your eyes away. The alternative was to face the endless voicemails waiting for you on your phone that glowed dimly beside you. You knew you would have to hear them eventually but right now you knew that even a breath, let alone full sentences from Luke would break you in every sense of the word. You feared the sound almost as much as the content behind it.

 You weren’t ready to be okay, you needed to wallow in your pain for a bit longer. As bad as that sounds you knew it was the only way you could convince yourself to let him back in, to forgive him. It was also the only way you could forgive yourself. Your body needed to feel how tortured you were without him, how much you needed his affection, his love, and him. Not his money. 

Part of you knew deep down that Luke didn’t mean what he said, the part that awakened the butterflies that had taken permanent residence in your stomach since he had entered your life. The part that caused all your senses to align when Luke kissed you the night you finally understood what it meant to love someone with everything you have. The same part that was clawing at your heart right now as your mind replayed the look of pure devastation that was painted on Luke’s pretty features as you drove away from him. That part was itching for you to run to him, to cuddle into his embrace and say “I forgive you. I’ll never leave you again. Love me?” 

But, it was the other part of you that was causing the problems right now, the part that snuck up on you each time you felt secure in yourself and tore it all down in seconds. The part that told you there was no way you were good enough for your boyfriend when you stared at your reflection in the mirror for even a second too long. The part that Luke was typically the one to silence when it overwhelmed you in a crowded room, with just a tender kiss to the forehead, or squeeze of your hand. The same part that constantly craved for Luke to be proud of you the way you were of him in anything he decided to pursue. That part was completely shattered last week when, whether intentionally or not he showed you that not only was he not proud, but also felt burdened by your lack of brilliance. 

“Y/n,” your friend called, breaking you from your self-loathing thoughts as she approached your brittle body, enveloped in every single fuzzy blanket you could get your hands on. 

“Hi.” you croaked, pulling your stinging eyes from where they had settled on a particularly large rain droplet that had stolen your interest as you wondered how much more water it could withstand before it burst from its flawless embodiment and shattered to the sill below. You wondered the same about Luke, how much more of your insecurity and emotional baggage would it take for him to burst. How much more of your mediocrity could he compensate for before you began to strip him of his excellence? 

“Have you talked to him yet?” she inquired, eyes going soft as she looked at you with sympathy. 

“No.” you groaned, pulling yourself up. “Do I have to?” 

She shook her head, dismissing you. “You know that you’re welcome here as long as you want, but anyone could tell that you’re completely miserable without him, even if he is being an epic prick.” 

You sniffled and wrapped your arms around your best friend.

“Am I an idiot for wanting to forgive him?” you spoke into her hair. 

She returned the embrace and settled next to you in the bed, “I think if he really is sorry then you’re incredibly strong for it. And you’re never an idiot, that would be your blonde haired beau.” 

You laughed softly at her innocent dig, the giggle catching slightly in your throat as it had only been releasing pathetic pleas, and broken sobs for the past few days. 

Y/f/n handed you your phone, the photo of Luke and Petunia sitting by the pool being almost completely covered by all the missed call notifications that had taken over your lock screen. 

“I think you should at least hear what he has to say babe, for your sake if not for his.” 

You let out a heavy sigh and accepted the phone, wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders and dragging your feet to the bathroom for some privacy. 

You took a seat in the empty bathtub throwing the blanket across your body. You reasoned it was the perfect place to listen to the messages because as soon as Luke’s voice flooded the room you would be completely submerged in him and you didn’t trust your legs to hold you up. 

You clicked the most recent voicemail, time stamped from 1:28 am last night. As you selected the speaker option you allowed your eyes to fall closed and without noticing or trying you held your breath. 

“Y/n,” 

Only one word in you could immediately tell two things without a trace of doubt. One, he’d been crying, and two he was drunk. If you had to guess you would say tequila, it had always been his favorite and he had a bad habit of nursing his wounds in the liquor cabinet. It shattered your heart to think of him broken, and vulnerable and as he continued to speak you found yourself wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. 

“I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his voice cut off as a sob played through your phone. You released a matching one while squeezing  your eyes tighter, a shaky hand bringing your phone closer as if it would bring him as well. 

As he continued, your mind began to paint a vivid picture. You saw him sitting on the kitchen floor, an old ratty sweatshirt struggling to keep him warm, damp tear stains spoiling the sleeves. There was a half empty bottle to his side and the tip of his nose was red as it peeked out from the hood. You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the image that felt like your personal nightmare.

“I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby.” he spoke through gasps of breath that caused worry to spread across your body.

You paused the message as a dull ache creeped up from the bottom of your stomach and to your throat which was tightening by the second. You tossed your phone onto the blanket which you had kicked off as your body heated up, and sprung out of the tub landing firmly in front of the toilet. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail in your hand you hunched over and retched into the bowl. Y/f/n burst through the door as you gagged and coughed repeatedly, she took your hair from you and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you tried to focus your breathing through your nose. This wasn’t the first time you had cried yourself into throwing up during your stay so she knew what to do to calm you down and settle your stomach. 

As you finished the glass of water she had poured from the sink while you brushed your teeth she held your car keys out to you. 

“Please go see him. I can’t see you like this anymore.” 

You nodded accepting the keys reluctantly and made your way to your car.

 Once outside you noted that the rain had started coming down harder, it seemed fitting as your situation reached its climax. By the time you got into the car your hair was wet and stringy, dripping onto Luke’s shirt that you had been wearing since the night you left. You quickly tied it back and drove away, hoping the sound of the rain could calm your nerves before you got back to your house. 

When you got there the sun was setting and the rain was still falling steadily, you grabbed a jacket from the back seat and held it over your head as you ran to the house. The jacket didn’t give you much protection from the water and you were soaked by the time you reached the door. Taking one big breath, in through your nose, and out from your mouth as you had been repeating the whole ride there, you raised your quivering hand and knocked three times. 

Expecting it to take a few minutes for him to reach the door you were shocked when it swung open in just a few seconds. Your heart sunk as you took in Luke’s appearance, although you were sure you looked just as bad if not worse. Deep dark circles sat beneath his bloodshot eyes, his stubble had grown in a bit longer than he typically liked it and his lips were chapped and bitten down. Guilt panged in your chest, how awful of a girlfriend were you to let it get to this point? The thought made you question if he would even want you here. 

Apparently the time apart had completely fucked with your ability to read Luke’s face because even frozen in shock, his eyes began to fade into that special soft color of blue they only got to around you. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest and just as it had been since the moment you left the only word running through his head was “y/n.” 

He didn’t see your messy, wet hair or the ratty tshirt that swallowed your figure. He didn’t see your eyes puffy from crying or your bitten down nails that you were bringing back up to your mouth in that moment as your nerves got the best of you. All he saw was y/n. His y/n. You came home to him and as far as he was concerned you looked like an angel. Warm, sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect. 

Your eyes ran over his face anxiously, waiting for him to say something, or invite you in, or even slam the door in your face. Anything. After a minute of silence you gathered up the courage to speak first. 

“Sorry I never called you bac-'' your words were knocked from your mouth when Luke took a step forward and wrapped you up into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. Your limbs fit together perfectly, and the second your bodies met you felt recharged, as if everything was in place once again. And Luke felt like for the first time in a week he could breathe. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he sighed as you pressed your nose into his chest deeply breathing in the smell you could only describe as home. “Thank you for coming back to me, I don’t work without you.” 

From your position in his arms you could see the mess splayed on the floor behind him. It was just as you had pictured it earlier, a thin blanket and scratchy throw pillow were scattered on the floor in front of the sink, a bottle lying on it’s side just next to them. Guilt inched up your spine when your eyes made contact with a framed picture of the two of you on top of the blanket. 

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed into his chest, your hands clawing at the material of his sweatshirt. 

He pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on either sides of your waist, “No baby, why’re you sorry. This is all my fault, I was awful. You...you’re perfect.” he pressed as you shook your head in distress, unable to stop your tears. 

“N-no I stayed away for so long, even when I knew I wa-wanted to forgive you. I was embarrassed and...and selfish.” you struggled to speak over your tears while Luke looked down at you sad and confused. 

“What’re you talking about, love?” 

You sniffed and dropped your hands from Luke’s chest, “I j-just wanted you to be proud of me.” the end of your sentence was nearly lost in your sobs but Luke understood. And in that moment he regretted going into music instead of engineering, or science, or whatever would’ve helped him to invent  a time machine so he could go back and beat the shit out of whoever or whatever had possessed him last week. 

His hands moved to cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing lightly over your bottom lip. 

“I am proud of you baby.” 

He leaned in slowly, and hesitantly, almost as if he was testing the waters, like this was new. As if he hadn’t kissed you thousands of times before. You looked up at him through your lashes littered with unshed tears and nodded your head slowly. He still had so much left to say, you still had so much left to say but you both had been needing this for as long as you’d lost it. He pressed his lips to yours gently, afraid that even one wrong move and you would decide that you had made the wrong choice in coming back. He wouldn’t survive that, he couldn’t lose you twice. 

As he went to pull away you snaked a hand around the back of his neck pulling him back towards you. This time when your lips collided his body sagged into it, both arms wrapping around your back and lifting you up to the tips of your toes. Your eyes drifted shut and you reveled in the feeling of him pressed up against you like this. When the kiss broke you kept your faces close enough that your noses were touching, and opened your eyes to see Luke’s still closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his forehead to you. 

“You’re what I’m most proud of.” he exhaled, his eyelids still shut lightly. “My greatest achievement is getting you to love me and I can’t believe I almost blew it.” 

You brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek lightly, the feeling of his overgrown stubble foreign to your fingers. 

“It would take a lot more to get rid of me.” you assured. “I think m’too in love with you.” 

He opened his eyes, locking them with your own, and spoke firmly but with a softness that was and would always be reserved for only you. 

“I want to make it clear that you do not in any way leech.” he dragged the last word out, laced in disgust as if it were hard for him to say. “I lucked out. I actually just seem to keep lucking out, my job, my life, and you.” He placed a hand across your jaw and tilted your chin up before continuing. “I completely lucked out with you. I have lots of money, more than I need actually and it makes me feel fucking incredible that I can take care of you. That’s all I wanna do for the rest of my life.” 

Your mouth broke into a smile hearing him verbally commit to a lifetime with you. 

“But, with that being said I know you don’t need me-” 

“I do need you.” you interrupted. 

Luke threw his head back at your words, a toothy grin overtaking his face before he pressed a chaste peck to your forehead. 

“Y’know what? You’re too fucking cute. I meant financially baby, m’trying to apologize here.” 

You nodded for him to continue, struggling to contain your own beaming smile. 

“Anything you decide to do occupationally or otherwise could never, ever let me down. You’re physically incapable of it. I’d be a lucky guy if you let me stick around for it all and I promise to never forget that again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” he took a deep breath before finishing his rant. “M’only able to give you the world if you let me. Let me?” 

You answered his question by attaching your lips once again, desire and need radiating off of the place where your lips met. As your taste buds reacquainted themselves with Luke’s mouth you wondered how you had gone even a day without him. 

Luke felt like he was flying and he couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone in the world could live without, seeing you, knowing you, and kissing you. He also knew that he would do anything to ensure that he never had to go a day without you for the rest of his life. 

“How long does it take to get an engagement ring sized?” he wondered to himself. 

If he could’ve read your mind he would’ve seen white gowns, tiered cakes, and little blue eyed, curly haired monsters running amuck. 

“I want everything with you, the whole world.” you affirmed when you pulled apart for air. 

“Yea?” he responded. 

You hummed against his lips, “Always.” 

[gingeraleluke]

𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: tom holland x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: your boyfriend got home just in time to watch his most recent interview on tv with you.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, nothing just fluff! :)

𝗔/𝗡: this is my first time writing for tom so i hope you guys like it!! <3

this is based on the spider-man: far from home interview with jimmy kimmel!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

the young girls heart was silent for the first nineteen years of her life. nothing but a faint heartbeat and some clouded thoughts of little to nothing inconsistencies. from the moment she first opened her eyes as a baby, separating her fingers and spreading her toes while her newly polished eyes tried making sense of her surroundings, to the ripe summer when her mother insisted she become a camp counselor to succumb enough money to buy her very own long-overdue car. the girl felt nothing.

the teens she longed to be alike were a mere hourglass, y/n a shadow. portraying their success and growth without mirroring any of her own, she felt like a weak duckling surrounded by marvelous swans. she would spend her youth watching blondes fall for brunettes on television, plopping popcorn into her mouth while pressing rewind on her favorite romantics, watching the way they would look at eachother and move with one another. she never thought she could be able to experience that. everything inside her was too quiet, too plain.

and then she met tom. it became loud, too loud, and she loved it. everything she thought she could never achieve, she achieved with him. her colorless days no longer existed and she fell deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.

switching the tv from some medical soap opera, y/n sat on her couch. she wore nothing but a plain bra and a pair of baby blue satin shorts. normally, she’d cover up more, especially if she had company over, but tom was a different kind of company and a comfortable one at that.

“THOMAS HURRY UP!” she could hear her boyfriend yell a faint, “i’m coming,” through the noise of the water running. shortly after, the shower stopped as y/n scrolled mindlessly through her phone, impatient.

she expected to see her boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, a trail of steam behind him, but instead she heard the loud roar of a hairdryer.

“for fucks sake-“ her mouth was lacking the salty and buttery flavor she craved so she took the opportunity to use her time by putting some popcorn in the microwave while her boyfriend blowed out his hair.

as she watched the minutes on the timer go down, the machine dinged as she grabbed a bowl and poured the snack inside it. she made her way back to the bench sofa and extended her legs out on the grey island cushions. the lace on the trim of her shorts tickled her feet as she folded her legs. “TOM HURRY THE FUCK UP, ITS ALMOST STARTING!”

the girls mouth was full as she yelled, losing patience with the boy. “IM SORRY, IM COMING!”

minutes later, a shirtless tom holland, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, appeared in their shared living room. the girls eyes grew big, his doing the same as he took in her taboo and exposed form.

“what- tom! you haven’t even gotten dressed yet?!”

“well, neither have you, apparently! plus, this is pretty comfortable, is it not?”

“tom-“ she warned.

“i got it, i got it..” his bare feet slapped against the hardwood floors as he quickly ran into their bedroom and retrieved his clothes. he came back out wearing a black t shirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants.

“KIMMEL IS STARTING!” she pointed at the tv and looked over to see tom bounce down onto the couch next to her, sprawling his legs out like she had done earlier.

“baby, that’s just the intro, i’m not there yet.” she peered over at him.

“who said i’m watching this for you?” he turned his head and made a sarcastic face.

“yeah, sure..” he mocked.

“WAIT, i need my blanket! go, get it, i don’t want to miss this!”

“y/n, it hasn’t even started yet-“

“now tom!”

“but what if i miss it!”

“you were there, you already know what happens-“ you lightly shoved his clothed knee and he sprung to his feet, so fast that tessa jolted up and ran after him.

“tessa! calm down!” the dog didn’t listen and continued following her dad, panting the whole way back.

once they were settled, jimmy announced his upcoming guests before a quick commercial break.

“quick, my ass..” she muttered.

tom stifled a chuckle. “why are you so bent up about this? you’ve seen my interviews before!”

“yeah, but i’ve never been able to actually watch one with you! it’s like… an entirely different experience!”

he didn’t believe her. “are you sure that’s the real reason? or is it because you just want me to give you secret info on the film, because love, you know i can’t do that, not after last time.”

she placed a hand on her chest playfully, “tom! i would never, how could you think of me like that?! as if i would ever do such a thing!”

“mmhmm..”

the commercials came to an end and y/n looked up to see jimmy start announcing the cast.

“shit, oh my god, it’s happening.”

“shhh, calm down!” tom laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, his other arm sprawled out behind the frame of the sofa.

“how can i keep calm!? my fucking BOYFRIEND is about to be on tv! you know how many people can say that they are dating spider-man? like, no one!” her knee was bouncing and she couldn’t contain the excitement. watching someone on television while sitting in the same room with them was a rush she had never felt before.

she was loud as hell inside.

“please welcome, tom hol-“

“WHOOOOO, YEAH!!” she started clapping dramatically and stood up for a quick second, her eyes glued to the tv as she watched her boyfriend appear, while her actual boyfriend sat there laughing at her excitement.

they did a stupid elevator bit, before him and everyone else walked up to their chairs.

“really, tom?” his dark eyes flickered to hers. “what?! i thought you would like it, it’s funny!” she rolled her eyes and smiled, thinking to herself: my boyfriend is a dork, even on national television.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“oh my god, you all look so good.”

“i know, right?”

“look at jake!”

“yeah-“

“look at zendaya!”

“i know-“

“OH MY GOD LOOK A-“

“OKAY Y/N, i get it, everyone but me is attractive, thanks. you’ve made it pretty clear.” he frowned as you gushed over how good his coworkers looked.

“yes, tom! i think you look awful, that’s why i’ve been dating you for the past four years, because i think you are ugly.”

he looked at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his eyes.

“oh, come on, i’m joking! you’re beautiful, come here.” she grabbed the side of his head and pulled him over so his head was laying on her chest. she began to play with his hair while watching.

“so the trailer came out, the trailer got like 135 million views within the first hour-“

“yeah it did!” she exclaimed, her fingers busy in his hair.

“see, i didn’t know that then.” he muttered, his brows furrowing together as tessa looked up at him from y/n’s lap.

“well it’s no secret, i’m not very good at instagram.”

y/n bursted out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but all of her emotions where heightened in this moment.

“oh god, i know where this is going.. this is the zendaya story isn’t it?” you smirk down at him and he lifts his head to nod at you.

“i knew it..”

“i basically.. forgot to post the trailer.”

“that’s bad.”

“yes jimmy, yes it is.” she couldn’t contain the snickers leaving her mouth and tom protested against it.

“listen, it’s difficult for some people, okay!”

“mmhmm, whatever you say baby.” she remembers distinctly, waking up and asking her boyfriend why he never posted the trailer, which caused him to wind up into a frenzy and immediately contact zendaya for assistance.

“well, you wouldn’t tell me how to!”

“tom, you’re a grown man! you should be able to figure that out yourself, peter parker.” she leaned over and kissed his cheek, his arm wrapped around her.

“so you’re IT for the team?”

“yeah, y/n, making poor zendaya the it for the team-“

“oh, shush, it was funny as fuck. but not as funny as the time you spoi-“

he placed his finger on her lips to quiet her, “oh, stop it!” she giggled in response.

she watched as zendaya recalled the moment she had to screen record how to delete an instagram story for him, which was another thing y/n refused to help him with. sure, she loves him and all, but watching the panic on his face as he realizes that he messed up, always cracked her up. especially since he brags about how ‘tech savvy’ he is for his age.

“it’s not my fault you’re a grampa!”

“yeah, we’ll, you’re dating a grampa!”

“true, i am.”

her hands reached towards her blanket as she put her popcorn bowl down and laid the covering over her and her boyfriend. the grey weighted blanket matching the couch perfectly.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“okay, wait…why are you guys still in highschool?!” y/n had paused the program to engage in a very serious and heated discussion about the aftermath of endgame which led up to the beginning of his new movie, far from home, which had yet to come out.

“i mean.. it’s five years! i’m so confused.” tom sighed, placing his hands on his knees, he sat up straight. “like i said in the interview, y/n, i don’t know.”

“well… ask the russo brothers! i mean, jacob is right, that’s a huge plothole!”

toms eyes sparkled as he looked at his lover trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“i… i don’t even know what to say right now. my whole life is a lie!”

“okay, let’s not get too dramatic here-“

“NO, tom! as an avengers fanatic, i need to know!” she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, his body jolting forwards.

“tell me!” she shook him as he laughed and tessa barked.

“i don’t know, baby!” she frowned slightly and looked at her boyfriends amused face.

“i’m dating spider-man, you’d think i’d get the inside scoop.” she rolled her eyes and placed her legs back up on the cushions. tom leaned over and looked her up and down, flickering from her bare chest and her eyes. he leaned into her neck and started planting kisses. “i’m sorry, i will be sure to ask someone at marvel for you.” she smiled sweetly before thanking him.

“has everyone seen avengers: endgame?”

the girl rose to her feet, the blanket stuck to her bare legs. “yes, jimmy, i have! i saw my boyfriend get dusted right before my fucking eyes!”

tom remembered the first time he watched the film with her. it was hard for him to keep it under wraps and while he did end up telling her some spoilers, he kept out the whole ‘death by thanos’ part.

“okay, calm down little one.” he reached his arm out to pull her down, back to the couch.

“tom, baby, i know you like.. could get in trouble for it but-“

“y/n… not this conversation again.” he put his hand up to his forehead, two fingers on the bridge of his nose. she knew that if she prodded and poked in all the right spots, that her boyfriend would give in. that it just took a little push for him to confess all the dirty details of his new blockbuster.

“come on! i am begging, tom- i have so many questions, can you blame me? i mean… mysterio, like.. what’s that guy all about?! he’s a villian right?”

“well…”

“a hero?”

“definitely not.”

“antihero?”

“not exactly-“

“UGH, tom! you are killing me here.” she whined, putting her hands on his chest as the paused tv shined upon his features. “please give me something… anything.” she trailed her fingers down his chest, tauntingly.

“anything?” he smirked at her.

“yup. like… maybe just exactly what jakes character is? i mean, i remember him telling us at dinner that time, but that was barely enough, i mean.. there’s gotta be more right?”

“go on.”

“and mj, i mean.. is peter finally going to ask her out? baby, so many questions, i just have so many.”

“well… i guess i could tell you one thing..” he tempted her. her lips twitched upwards as she pressed her forehead against his.

“mmhmm?”

“i could tell you that… the ending of the movie?”

“yeah..”

“is fucking fantastic. really, it’s brilliant babes.”

“because?”

“you will just have to see-“ he was cut off by his girlfriend hitting him in the face with a pillow.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE TOM-“

“quiet down! you are going to get tessa all going..”

“sorry…”

a moment of silence passed as tom squealed, “for fucks sake tom!” in his best high pitched, y/n impression possible.

“shut up!”

the two laughed before she clicked play.

“you look so good here, tom. it’s so weird like- i’m sitting next to you-“ she pointed at tom, “but, there you are on tv!”

“you are just realizing this?”

“well, it’s like inception!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i was told, it was a wedding!”

her chest boiled with anger as she quickly hit pause. “NO BECAUSE, fuck you for that! i remember being all excited, thinking tony and pepper were gonna have a beautiful wedding, only to see hes fucking DEAD.”

tom couldn’t hold in his laughs. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know!”

“well it’s pretty obvious, tom! everyone’s sad and in black, baby, you really are an airhead.”

“hey-“ she cut him off with a kiss to his lips.

the two cuddled up while watching the interview, small laughs leaving their bodies.

“like, zendaya! when did you find out how endgame ended?”

“oh, i remember. me, jacob, and zendaya were all in a facetime call freaking the fuck out, while my boyfriend over here, was chilling like nothing was wrong.”

“you guys were in a facetime call?” he questioned.

“yes! i was heartbroken and i had gotten a call from z who was clearly also upset!”

“well, he’s fine clearly! i mean, i wouldn’t be in far from home if peter was dead, right?”

she looked up at him, his heartbeat still lingering on her skin. “so you can tell me that you are still alive, but you can’t tell me about jake gyllenhaals character?”

“well, it’s a given! obviously peter is alive!”

y/n groaned, her head now resting on his chest.

“dating a superhero is difficult.”

“aww, poor darling, i’m sure it is.” he peppered kisses along her forehead.

“hey! you ate all of the popcorn?!” tom was flabbergasted, his voice heightening a few octaves.

“yep, and what about it?” her tone dripping in sass.

“i wanted some, for one!”

“too bad, maybe if you would spill the deets on far from home, you’d get some of my popcorn. hell, tom, if you confess right now, i’ll make you a whole bowl!”

“no.”

“well it was worth a try!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i can’t believe it’s over.” the house was completely silent, the only thing audible being tessa’s light snores.

“i’m gonna miss that guy..”

“baby, i’m right here.” he placed his hand at the small of her back, looking at her lovingly.

“i’m talking about mysterio.”

“oh, yeah, great!” she giggled at his response. “he’s just so hot, tom! way hotter than peter-“

“yeah, maybe if you think manipulation is hot!”

her mouth fell agape at his words.

“what?” he said, oblivious to the screw up he just made. she smiled widely at him as he slowly was hit with realization.

“oh, fucking damn it!”

[creweemmaeec11]

My favourite prompts:

A list of my favourite prompts that I’ve posted in the past, all curated into a huge list just for you guys!

1

Finally, the day has come. The villain is thought to be dead. The hero has won.

Until suddenly the hero learns the villain left them EVERYTHING in their will. Made them the owner and operator of all their illegal business.

Obviously, the hero plans to shut everything down immediately. But they quickly realize just how many people the villain employed… how many family’s they fed…

2

“You kissed me,”

“I did… and?”

“What-!? What do you mean and!?,”

“What more do you want?”

“An explanation would be a good start!”

“…or I could just do it again…”

*other person turns bright red,*

“Or… or that, I suppose,”

3

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I think the better question would be what in the hell are you wearing,” the villain replied, amusement clear on their face, like they were struggling to keep from laughing.

“What- it’s-” the hero blushed, remembering what they were wearing, “their pajamas! What are you-!”

“Oh my god…” the villain replied, like they were struggling to come to terms with what they were seeing, “the hero of the city not only own, but wears a onesie,”

“Excuse me!” The hero snapped in defence, “They’re comfortable!”

“They? You have more??”

4

“I gotta say hero,” The villain mused as they casually moved toward the cell bars, “I’ve been called many things in my life: monster, villain, outcast, loser, scoundrel,” they tilted their head, examining the hero before them, “but ‘our last hope?’” *clicks tongue* “that’s a first,”

5

You live in a world where anyone born with superpowers must become a super hero. It doesn’t matter what the power is, or how small it is, it is mandatory. It was deemed that having anyone with superpowers work alongside regular people was “unsafe” and “unfair.” Every year, dozens of superhero’s with powers useless for fighting are killed. You’ve managed to make it this long with nobody finding out you have a superpower. But how much longer can you hide in plain sight?

6

The city’s villain mysteriously disappears and hasnt been seen in a week. The people are celebrating, but the hero is worried. What if the villain is planning something big? Determined to stop whatever evil plan is brewing, the hero tracks the villain down, but they dont find what they expected. Instead of evil plotting, the villain:

-Has been taking care of a sick pet -Come down with the flu -Been helping arrange a friends wedding -Found out they were pregnant -Is getting married themselves -Mourning the death of a loved one -Has adopted a young pet and been occupied taking care of them -Has been helping one of their lackeys who’s in a desperate situation -Has been feeding the homeless and offering blankets

7

You’re the most wanted villain by all highest ranking authorities, but all the heros “just can’t seem to catch you” (they always let you get away) because all your crimes are things like stealing expensive medication and then donating it to hospitals, robbing toy stores and donating to orphanages, robbing banks and giving to charity, robbing grocery stores and feeding the homeless, ect

8

A hero/villain with the power to materialize their own tattoos. Got a wrench tattoo? Now you’ve got a wrench. Got a tattoo of wings? A bomb? A get away car? Well…

Dragon tattoos have always been popular, havent they?

9

Write about a genius inventor villain who, while watching the news, learns about a sick child in hospital doctors arnt sure they can cure. The villain realizes something theyve invented could cure the child. Now the hard part is convincing them to let the villain help.

10

The villain starts to notice the hero is feeling more down the usual, so they start leaving the hero little notes to cheer them up. All is going well until the hero figures out who is sending them.

11

In a world of magic users where everyone is divided into the 6 eye colours, and the colour of your eyes represents what your powers are. Each colour has an elemental power, can talk to a certain type of creature(Invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals), and has 3 other powers. For example, blue eyes control water, can commune with fish, etc. Everyone in the world has either red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple eyes. Except for you, you were born with black eyes. Everyone is afraid of what your powers will be, but they should be more worried about the kind of creatures you can talk to…

12

A hero and a villain (and maybe their sidekicks, up to you) trapped in a haunted house or haunted location.  

-One is scared so the other comforts them. They are both scared but trying to act like they aren’t. -One doesn’t believe in ghosts, and the other has the power to communicate with them or see them. -Ghosts aren’t real, but one continues to try and freak the other out, who claims they aren’t scared. -Ghost wingman. I need’ d say no more -One gets possessed, so the other has to do the whole ‘kiss to break a curse’ thing to bring them out of it. -The classic Person A thinks ghosts aren’t real so they prank Person B to scare them. Then shit gets real, but person B doesn’t believe person A, thinking its just another prank.

13

“I trusted you! You promised!”

“I kept my promise! I got you your results! Don’t question my methods from a top that high moral horse or yours, especially when the only reason you made a deal with me in the first place was because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done!”

14

The local wildfire has been growing out of control, forcing the city to have to evacuate. Suddenly, the villain with water powers shows up to lend a hand to fire fighters.

15

“Tell me hero,” the villain spoke, chains jangling from where they hung on the villains wrists as they walked up to the bars of the jail cell, “If you wanted to skip a press conference, could you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sisters getting married, but your needed for a big event at the hero academy that day. Would you be allowed to attend the wedding? What about if your brother stole a pack of gum. Could you let it slide? Not would you, but could you?”

The hero paused. Could they? They had responsibilities! They had commitments to the city, and to the serving of justice!

The villain laughed at the heros silence, “I may be in jail, but you’re more chained then I’ll ever be,”

16

“So tell me,” the villain drawled, dragging a finger across the heros skin, making them shiver, “what changed your mind?”

17

Hero discovers the villain has a day job. It isnt at all what they expected. (Day care, animal shelter, etc)

18

“What are you going to do if you beat me, and suddenly the city dosent need a hero? What are you going to do if you get hurt and can no longer fight, and the city forgets about you just like all the heros before you? Who will you be when your legacy crumbles under the weight of all those who follow? Will you take up knitting?”

The hero stared unblinking and frozen as the villain took a step forward.

“Sure, your a hero. But what are you without that?”

The villain took another step forward.

“Your nothing, heroism is all you have. That pathetic title you curl up to every night. But without it?” They looked the hero up and down, “Absolutely nothing…”

19

A villain retires from villainy and gets plastic surgery (or simply never showed their face) so they can live a normal life without being recognized. While living their new life, they bump into the hero, and the two start falling for eachother. But the villain is terrified of the hero finding out the truth

20

The hero slammed their front door as quickly as they could, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The villain. The villain was outside their door.

“Well that was rude,”

21

A hero with magic powers, in a world where magic is unheard of. They have always kept their powers a secret, fearing they would be shunned, or tested on. They never use their powers in battle.

One day, while practicing their magic alone in the woods, the villain appears out of nowhere. 

Before the hero can explain, the villain asks, “you have powers too?”

22

A hero dies. Or at least, they think they do. The next thing they know they wake up at their own funeral. And the only person there? Is the villain.

23

“The worst part, is you had the nerve to call it love”

[imjusttpeachy]

the early bird gets the panini (c.h.)

well this is quite the change of pace isn’t it. lmao i figured u guys needed a break from the crying so here’s... whatever this is

thank u all new followers!! u jus made a big mistake💞🦋

u guys should search up “my very real collab with 50 cent” by corpse if you haven’t heard it yet, i ascended the first time i listened lmaoooo

playlist

the wombats - greek tragedy

aminé - heebiejeebies

free nationals - beauty and essex

the marías- let my baby stay

summary: Corpse interrupts the reader’s morning livestream after she left him alone in bed that morning. Fluff and fuckery ensues.

word count: 2, 326

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns, coarse language

>>>

“Okay, Tom Nook is the most bitch-ass motherfucker I’ve ever met. I could fold him like a panini with a slap I swear to god.”

Mornings were definitely one of your favourite times to stream. Of course, you loved staying up into the early hours of the morning only kept awake by the energy drinks running through your veins and the screaming of your friends over your headset, but nothing could beat the sweet simplicity of waking up with your watchers. It was always so calm, your anxiety levels at a low with the small audience building up slowly as more of them woke up. Reading those good morning messages saying that you helped to start their day off on a good foot— nothing would beat that.

The only downside to these scheduled morning streams was having to tear yourself away from the cozy warmth of your bed, especially if there was a certain someone blanketed over you silently persuading you to stay there forever. It was always a rare sight, bruised eyes sealed shut, long eyelashes kissing pale cheeks as small snores escaped from slightly parted lips. Glancing down at the messy black mop that rested on top of your chest, you sighed softly. You knew he’d only been asleep for a few hours, if that, thinking back to the night before where you crawled into bed alone after kissing him goodnight before leaving him to finish editing for his latest video. He worked too hard, but despite you reminding him this every single time he stayed up into the dark hours of the night to finish his work, he always never seemed to be satisfied. Most of the time you were able to coax him from the stuffy confines of his gaming office, bribing him with sweet kisses and promises of cuddles; when he was in the zone, though, nothing could steer his sore eyes away from the monitor. So with a sweet kiss goodnight, you’d make your way to the bedroom, falling asleep to the faint click-clacks of his keyboard.

It was funny how different you were in that aspect. You always loved mornings, the sun shining through the blinds always brought a smile to your face holding the promise of a bright day ahead. It felt good to never be in a rush, to enjoy the still air, and watch the world around you wake up as people settled into their daily routines. The day’s chaos always seemed to leak through into the dark of the night, but in the morning everything felt new and refreshed; the perfect new beginning to another chapter in the story of your life. Though, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of staying in bed tangled together with your favourite person every so often wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Okay, maybe it was almost every day.

But who could say no when those strong arms encased you so perfectly, holding you so close you couldn’t figure out where you ended and where he started? Who could say no to his warm skin pressed against your own, the weight of his body grounding you as you pulled yourself from the darkness of sleep? Who could say no to being able to study his face up close, running your fingertip ever so lightly along the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheekbones, watching his eyelids flutter as he stirred softly in his sleep? Who could say no to the pillow talk you shared once those pretty eyes opened, the deep grumble of his morning voice that prickled goosebumps over your skin as he muttered those 3 sweet little words?

Definitely not you.

Well, not often anyway.

Reluctantly pulling your gaze away from the sweet face resting on your chest, you glanced over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red numbers reading 9:37 AM that seemed to be glaring back at you pushed any thought of indulging in your morning pleasures straight from your mind. You’d need to be live in 20 minutes. Puffing another sigh from your lips you slowly worked your way out from underneath your personal weighted blanket, trying your best to maneuver him softly onto the pillows to not wake him. Of course, you’d never be that lucky. Hissing through your teeth as your feet hit the icy top of the hardwood floor, you whipped your head around as a warm hand encased your wrist in a loose grip. Beneath messy bed head that could barely be seen from underneath the comforter that you had pulled back on top of him, you see the glimpse of tired eyes clouded with confusion peering out from underneath.

“Angel?” The deep grumble muttered underneath his breath almost made you throw all your plans to the wind and crawl right back into the fluffy clouds you longed to once again get lost in. Huffing out a sigh you slowly turned around, pulling your hand from his grasp only to bury it in the dark locks buried among the pillows. You leaned down softly, pushing your hands through his hair to reveal soft pleading eyes staring back at you, doing nothing but making your heart ache for having to leave so soon. Trancing your thumb along his eyebrow to try and smooth the small furrow that had made its home between them, you sighed softly.

“It’s Thursday, gotta stream puppy.” You watched as a small flash of recognition passed across his bleary eyes, a puff escaping his lips from under the comforter as you watched his chest fall slightly. Pulling his head up from the comforter, you smiled as you felt chapped lips press a small kiss to the inside of your wrist in understanding. Allowing yourself a bit of fun you leaned down pressing your lips to his briefly, giggling softly as a whine escaped his mouth as you pulled away. “Promise I won’t be long, I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“Too late for that.”

>>>

Smiling as you glanced up at your monitor that held your live chat, you watched as your viewers lost it with your threat to an animated shopkeeper. Times like this are what remind you of how grateful you are to your subscribers, they were practically family at this point and you felt you couldn’t be luckier to have such genuine, warm-hearted people that wanted to watch; even when you were cussing out characters that did nothing to you. You were laughing as you read some of the chat replies out loud when you saw your phone light up with a text from where it was sitting on your desk. Excusing yourself for a moment from the stream you grabbed your phone seeing a message from Corpse. 

Corpsie💞💞: did you order coffee? someone knocked on the door and there’s a paper bag on the step

Cursing to yourself quietly for forgetting, you answered him quickly saying that you just needed to cut to a break on stream and you’d be out in a minute to grab it. He was wary of even opening the front door these days, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. The last time you had driven out to pick up whatever was sent into his P.O. Box, there were people waiting outside the building. When you went inside to grab everything, you asked the teller what exactly they were waiting for, to which he told you that they were hoping to catch a glimpse of this faceless internet star as this is where he’d go to get his mail. You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster to your car— trying your best to not grab their attention though your body was shaking with adrenaline, knowing they might’ve seen him while he was waiting there for you. Practically throwing open the driver's door, you tossed everything haphazardly into the back seat, telling Corpse to pull up his hood and mask as you started the car and peeled out of there. That was the last time he left the house.

You sighed, dropping your phone back on your desk as well as the switch that had been sitting in your lap, beginning to explain that you needed a quick break to get your coffee and starting to click through the settings to set up your break screen when you saw your phone light up again.

Corpsie💞💞: nah don’t worry i got it

You barely had time to sit back in your chair as you stared at your phone in disbelief before there was a soft knocking on your office door. 

“Just kidding guys, apparently we have a kind guest who’s bringing it to me instead.”

Corpse hearing your voice from behind the door, it swung open to reveal your mop-headed lover sporting his cute plaid pyjama pants and yesterday’s hoodie as he held your coffees and bag in his hand. You grinned to yourself, moving out of the frame of the webcam as you reached out to grab everything, placing it on your desk before turning back to him with a wide smile. Reaching back for his hand, you pulled it down toward you, his body following as your other hand reached up to bury itself in his bedhead. You leaned forward and pressed a small peck onto his lips, mumbling a soft thank you against them as you kissed him once more. While this may have looked like the most simple gesture you knew how difficult it must have been for him, almost wanting to cry at how sweet he was to go to those lengths to do something a little special for you. As you pulled away, you smiled as his face mirrored yours, those soft rosy lips pulled into the sweetest grin you’d ever seen. Resting his forehead against yours, he mumbled back a small “anything for you princess,” the deep rumble of his morning voice sending a chill up your spine as you leaned forward again to steal another sweet kiss. Finally pulling away from you he stood up to his full height, a yawn escaping his mouth; though as he looked back toward the door you could sense his hesitation and grinned widely up at him.

“Do you wanna sit with me for a bit? I can just turn off the camera.” Giggling softly, you watched his head practically whip back toward you nodding a yes as he squeezed your hand, still intertwined with his. Reluctantly pulling it from his grasp, you pulled yourself back toward your monitors as you began to click through your stream settings. 

“Well, your favourite guest has decided to grace us with his presence for a little so I’m gonna have to turn off face-cam, but I don’t think you guys will have a problem with that.” You laughed out, watching as your chat began to surge with messages about him. Making sure there was no way you could accidentally turn on the webcam again, you gestured him over to you starting to stand from your chair to grab the other one sitting in the corner of the office when a hand grasped yours, a strong tug pulling you completely off it with; a small yelp escaped your lips as you fell clumsily into your boyfriend's chest. You could hear his laugh from above you as he maneuvered you around in his arms before falling back onto your chair and pulling you into his lap, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck where you could feel that smug grin that was surely painted on his face. With his arms wrapped around you completely, holding you securely to his chest you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Looking up at the chat a laugh was pulled from your lips as your watchers conspired against you, message after message accusing you of doing something unspeakable behind the camera as being the reason you turned it off.

“Guys, literally nothing is happening.” You laughed out, watching as the chat passed so fast you couldn’t even read a full sentence. “Corpse just decided he wanted to share a chair instead of getting his own.”

“Yeah, my bad.” With no trace of any remorse in his monotone answer, another laugh escaped from your lips. Leaning forward to grab your switch and actually start playing again, you settled back into Corpse’s lap knowing this is exactly where you wanted to be. You were only a few minutes back into the game, Corpse and you occasionally reading out some live chat comments excited about his surprise appearance as viewers slowly climbed— his own watchers joining to watch the stream, when he inevitably started to fuck with you. A chill snaked up your spine as you began to feel small kisses trailing up your neck, you should’ve known this was one of the reasons he wanted to have you in his lap— it was easier to get your attention this way. You could feel that smug little smile drift back onto his face as he heard your voice start to shake slightly; at those moments he’d pull away and start replying to messages before turning back and starting all over again. It was the fourth time he began to press those soft lips to the base of your throat when you shrugged him off and shoved the breakfast sandwich you were snacking on into his face.

“Okay, if you want to share a chair you’re gonna have to behave.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry baby, sorry.” Corpse laughed out, voice muffled from behind the sandwich; taking a bite of it and placing it back in front of you, his chest still shaking with laughter. Deciding to hook his chin over your shoulder instead, he went back to watching the live chat, chatting and answering questions— that is before he came across a certain comment that had him furrowing his brows in confusion.

“What’s this about you folding Tom Nook like a panini?”

>>>

[arvandus]

26.   “Is it wrong that I want to kiss you?” with the bird man hawks? 🥺

This one was so much fun to write! It's nothing but pure, cute fluff and was a breath of fresh air for me after writing a lot of heavy stuff lately. This one does involve the topic of drinking, but it's handled responsibly and is more the... aftermath of said drinking. But if that's a sensitive topic for you, send me a message and I can do a different plot with the same prompt. :)

Word Count: 2350 Warnings: Fluff, one drunk birb

26.“Is it wrong that I want to kiss you?

“Wow.... that was.... a great party.” Keigo slurred as you helped him out of your car, feathers and all. He stumbled against you, and you braced yourself as his wings flapped clumsily in an attempt to regain his balance. Good thing you didn’t let him fly home...

“Yeah.” you replied as his feathers tickled against your cheek.

“There were so many people!” His arm was propped around your shoulder now, and you tried not to groan under his weight.

“Yup.” You agreed again.

“And everyone was so nice...” he smiled drunkenly, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

You rolled your eyes in amusement. “I know.”

You began walking him up the small set of stairs to the foyer of his luxury apartment complex, his eyes deeply focused on the steps beneath his feet. Thank God the place had an elevator; after all, Hawk’s penthouse was on the top floor. Twenty stories up.

Once you’d gotten him into the elevator, he leaned against the wall, his head tilted back against the cold glass, eyes staring up. “And that punch was so good...”

“Yup, you drank a lot of it.” You teased as you pressed the button for his floor.

He lifted his head to grin at you with flushed cheeks. “I kinda want more.”

You pinned him with a look. “No.”

Keigo chuckled and leaned his head back again. He looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up when the elevator finally dinged its destination and the doors opened.

“Come on, you...” you reached your hand out to him, and Keigo stood for a moment before stumbling slightly. A giggle erupted from his lips.

“Oop, dizzy...” he laughed.

You grabbed his arm and put it back around your shoulder. “I got ya.”

You helped lead him out of the elevator and into his penthouse, which he’d given you the key to before you’d even let him get into your car earlier. As you were unlocking his door, his put a hand to his head and chuckled.

“...Man, I’m really drunk, aren’t I?” he mumbled.

“Yyyyup.” You grinned.

You got Keigo inside and sat him down on the couch so you could close and lock the door behind you.

Keigo began tipping over onto the couch cushions. “I’m just gonna.... lie down...”

You rushed over to him and grabbed onto his arm. “Oh no you don’t. C’mon, let’s get you into bed.”

“But everything’s spinning...” he complained.

“Your wings are gonna make you fall on your face as soon as you’re asleep.” You chided.

You pulled him up by his bicep before shifting your hold to his hand. It was warm, his fingers wrapping around your palm comfortably. Your tummy did a little flip at the contact, but you did your best to ignore it as you began leading him to his room.

“Sorry ya gotta take care of me...” Keigo mumbled.

You glanced back at him to see his eyes slightly downcast in shame.

You paused and turned to face him. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t.” Keigo kept his eyes down, so you cupped his cheek in your hand to have him look at you. “Besides,” you smiled, “it’s not like this happens all the time.”

Keigo stared at you, golden eyes wide in wonder. “...You’re really nice.” He said.

You grinned. “I know. Only to you though.”

Keigo stared at you for a moment longer before his vision unfocused again. “I gotta pee.”

You choked back a laugh at his candidness. “Okay. Let’s get you to your room. You have a bathroom there, remember?”

Once you got him into his room and helped him stumble into his bathroom, you quickly went over and began prepping his messy bed for him, making sure the covers were pulled down for him to get into. Keigo came out a moment later and managed to make his way over to his bed before sitting down on the edge of his mattress.

“Wow, look at you, walking by yourself!” you teased.

“Ha, ha.” He replied sarcastically.

“Alright, jacket off... wait. How the heck do you do this with your wings??” you demanded, confusion written across your face.

“There’s hidden zippers beneath the wings.”

“Ohhhh....” You found them once you knew what you were looking for; it was well-hidden in the fabric. You sat behind Keigo on the bed so you could undo the zippers. Once that was done, you began to tug his jacket off his arms. It was awkward and clumsy, and it caused you and Keigo to giggle at each other as you held onto the end of his sleeve and he struggled to pull his arm out.

The giggling settled down once the item was removed, and you draped it over the edge of his laundry basket. Keigo watched you silently as the alcohol swam warmly in his veins. Or maybe it was something else... something that seemed to grow in intensity the longer he looked at you.

You turned to face him and immediately the words that had been swimming in his inebriated head found their way to his lips. “You’re... really attractive.”

You stood there, dumbfounded for a long moment, before you brushed off his compliment. “And you’re really drunk.”

“No, I mean it. You’re fucking stunning.”

Every inch of your body felt hot with embarrassment. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s get those boots off...” You broke your gaze with him and kneeled down in front of him.

As you helped him undo the laces of his boots, he watched you with a hammering heart. You were being so nice to him, tending to him like this. You’d been friends for some time, and he trusted you implicitly by this point... but this level of care was new for both of you. It brought forth new feelings that his dizzy mind struggled to wrap around, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. But the longer he watched you, the more he wanted to pull you close and...

“...Is it wrong that I want to kiss you?” The words spilled from his lips, and somewhere behind the cloudy haze something screamed in panic. Did he really just say that out loud?

You had just pulled his last boot off his foot, and stared at him in shock, your mouth slightly open. Did he really just...? You stared into his eyes as you felt your heart flutter in your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free. God, it was tempting, wasn’t it? You were already so close to each other. Close enough to see the sunset gold of his eyes, close enough to stare at his slightly parted lips framed in stubble... He began to lean towards you as your eyes locked, and for the briefest of moments you froze, your body rooted in hope. But the scent of the alcohol still on his breath quickly brought you back to your senses, and you put your hand over his face.

“Knock it off, you flirt.” You pushed him back with your hand until he fell back into his bed.

You began to help him get his legs under his covers.

“I’m not a flirt!” he protested indignantly. “Why does everyone think I’m a flirt??”

“Because you flirt with everyone.”

You began pulling the covers up over him.

“Well now you’re just makin’ shit up.” He grumbled. You pinned him with a knowing look, and he fumbled for new words. “I’m nice to people. It’s different.”

You rolled your eyes at him and stood up. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get you some water and pills, okay?”

Keigo sulked beneath his blankets as you walked away. When you came back, he was quietly staring at the wall, his face pulled into a pout.

“I wasn’t flirting...” he mumbled. “I really meant it.”

You froze yet again before pulling yourself together. You set the water and headache medicine on his nightstand as his eyes followed your actions.

“You should really get some sleep.” You said.

“I guess...” he mumbled.

You began to leave his room, but something made you pause in his doorway, your hand on the doorframe. You looked back at him, to see him still sulking, his eyes avoiding yours. Was he actually hurt...?

Maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol talking.

“I’m gonna go now. But... um....” – you nibbled on your lip briefly – “if you remember this conversation tomorrow, and you still feel that way, then... we can talk. Y’know, if you want.”

Sleep was already starting to descend on Keigo, his eyes half-closed, but he perked up slightly. “...really?”

You smiled and gave a small nod. “Good night, Keigo.”

The next day, you kept yourself busy as you tried to keep your mind off of the previous night’s exchange. But it didn’t help very much... nothing was powerful enough to keep you from glancing at the time every twenty minutes or so, wondering if or when Keigo would wake up. By mid-afternoon you were just about to give up and chalk the entire event up to the brainwashing effect of alcohol, when your phone rang.

You nearly leapt at your phone, and your breath froze in your lungs as you stared at the name.

Keigo. He was calling you. That was already unusual for him... Usually, he preferred to text.

You took a deep breath to calm your quaking nerves before answering.

“Hey there.” You said.

“Hey.” He replied.

There was a slight pause before you asked your next question. “Sooo... how you feeling?”

Keigo’s laugh bubbled from the other end. “Not my best, but I’d be feeling a lot worse if it weren’t for you...”

You chuckled. “We’ll just add it to the list of reasons why I’m the superior friend.”

Your jab made Keigo laugh again, and he hummed with amusement. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, little dove. I still remember that one New Year’s party...”

You scoffed at him in mock offense. “Low blow. You said you wouldn’t bring that up...”

Keigo laughed at your defensiveness, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Anyway,” Keigo continued, “I called to say thanks. Y’know... for all your help last night.”

You cleared your throat slightly against the tightness that you felt. “Yeah, sure. You know I’ll always be there for you.”

Keigo’s voice came through soft and serious, his usual mirth absent. “Yeah... I know....”

A long awkward silence lingered, and you began to feel dizzy before you realized you were holding your breath. You took a quiet inhale of air.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll let you...” you started.

“Wait.” He said hurriedly. “Um, there was one more thing...”

“...Yeah?”

“About last night...” – there was another pause as he gathered his words – “I wanted to apologize if I made you... uncomfortable at all.”

Disappointment began to fill the space that hope was holding. “Oh,” you were glad Keigo couldn’t see the defeat in your eyes as you let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Keigo. I knew you were drunk.”

There was another pause before he spoke again, his words carefully chosen. “I was, but... I also meant it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could have sworn you’d heard wrong. “...What?”

“Do you want to meet up for coffee?” he asked.

Coffee... coffee was normal for you two, right? You two always met up for coffee. Even so, you couldn’t help the next question that rushed clumsily from your mouth.

“You mean... like... as friends? Or...?”

He gave a soft chuckle that made your nerves sing, even through the phone. “Like a date.”

You did a silent happy dance in your living room, your fist pumping the air in jubilant victory before you answered him, your voice forced into calmness. “Ahem, yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“... Did you just do your happy dance?” he teased.

“What?! No! Why would you say that??”

“Oh my God, you totally did, didn’t you? You’re so cute.”

You gave an appalled gasp. “Are you spying on me??” You began looking out your window to check the rooftops. They were empty, though.

“What? No, I’m not a creep!”

“Then how did you know?” you whined.

“Because your voice changes after you do a happy dance.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“Oh, it totally does.” He gloated. “It’s gets a little squeakier.”

“My voice does not squeak!”

“Like a little bird.”

“Oh, I hate you.”

“Hm, I’m pretty sure you don’t.” You could visualize the cocky grin on his face.

You huffed. “Just for that, you owe me dinner.”

“Name the time and place, little dove.”

Your face spread into a big smile, your skin feeling hot. “Okay... My place at 6.”

“Whoa, hang on a sec, I’m not gonna have you cook for me on our first date.”

“Who said I was cooking? You’re bringing dinner.”

Keigo chuckled again. “Fair enough. But then I’m gonna take you out on a real date.”

“Fair enough.” You echoed back.

There was a slight pause, neither one of you wanting to hang up on the other.

“6 o’ clock is so far away...” You finally complained.

“It really is, isn’t it?” Keigo agreed.

You bit your lip with a grin. “You could always come over now...”

“I could, couldn’t I?” Keigo mused.

“You still gotta bring food, though.”

“Any special requests?”

You cocked your head to the side thoughtfully. “Surprise me. You know what I like.”

“Yes... yes I do.” He replied.

His comment made a new wave of heat wash over you. “Cheeky bird.” You grumbled.

Keigo gave a laugh. “Alright I’m gonna head over.”

“Okay.”

“One more thing...” he said, before you could hang up. The playfulness dropped from his voice, and his next words came through softly. “I’m glad you helped me out last night.”

Your heart flipped and you smiled. “Me too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

Once you hung up, you did yet another happy dance.