#the rest of the night was totally fine and i apologized for my comment

[wensvol]

how do i stop reliving a moment where i said something stupid and got called out for it (rightfully so)

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Can i request a hotch fic where he and reader had a fight but they cant sleep if the one isnt in bed with them so they end up cuddling and its just fluff🥰

fem!plus size reader, wc: 525.

a/n: i really hope that you guys can feel the playful and kind of "crack-fic" undertones that are in this fic because i felt like back to back angst might kill me! 😭

You really needed to stop being impulsive when you were mad.

You attempted to shift off of the loose spring in the sofa that was digging into your back, but reigned unsuccessful because another one just ended up digging into your shoulder.

Now that you were lying here and had time to reflect on the course of tonight's events, you realize that you may have acted a little ridiculous.

You and Aaron didn't really fight a lot. Sure there were arguments or light bickering here and there, but that wasn't anything unexpected to come from two lovers.

But this total fucking blowout takes the cake.

It started over nothing really, the wrong comment on the wrong night; which then turned into nitpicking and finding anything to argue about until someone's feelings got hurt. Those feelings being yours obviously.

So, you dramatically snatched a pillow and blanket off of your shared bed and stormed out into the living room, loudly announcing that you were sleeping on the couch tonight.

That had been an hour ago.

You missed your boyfriend even though he was literally in the room across from yours. You could apologize yes, but if you were going to be honest, you were embarrassed by how immature you were.

You groaned, slapping your hands over your eyes and rubbing them in frustration.

You should have known better than to do this, because it was basically an acknowledgement between Aaron and you that you guys had a hard time sleeping without the other. It slipped your mind in the heat of the moment!

As if he had read your mind, you heard the bedroom door open.

“Honey?”

You could hear the tiredness in his voice and it had almost made you tear up, but ever the stubborn woman, you turned over onto your side with an exaggerated huff.

It was silent for a moment before you heard the slight cracking of his knees, and the light thumping of his feet. The blanket that was splayed over your body was lifted, and you jolted in surprise.

Aaron had tucked himself as far into your back as humanly possible, forcing you to move forward a bit so he wouldn't fall over the edge and onto the floor. He rested his head in the crease of your neck and shoulder, throwing a large arm over your mid section and intertwining his legs with yours.

Oh, he was using your weakness against you.

“Sweetheart, I'm sorry.” Aaron mumbled.

You grumble a bit before sighing and gripping his hand resting on your stomach.

“I'm sorry too.”

“I didn't mean to freak out on you. It's just, I'm just stressed with my job and-” You cut him off. “Aaron baby, my heart, my soul and the love of my life. I mean this when I say that it's fine. I didn't act all that rationally either.”

He places a kiss on the naked skin of your neck, the sensation causing butterflies to swarm in your belly.

“It's okay. I just want to go to bed. Will you come with me?”

“Of course… but I'm the little spoon.”

He chuckles lovingly, “Of course.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 16

Happy WIP Wednesday everyone! Sorry I missed last week, but I think I should be good to get back on track going forward. Finished making most of the baby things I want to make for my soon-to-be nephew, so I'll be able to spend more time writing than crocheting again.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

An hour later, all eight of them were ensconced in the theater in Sam’s basement with a few pizzas and salads spread around them. Wulf again refused any and the rest dug in.

“All right, Tuck, we need to figure out what Walker’s up to. Can you ask Wulf?”

Tim watched as Tucker asked and Wulf responded. Then Tucker burst out laughing and slapped his knee.

Tim’s eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t.

Sam scoffed. “You have no idea what he said, do you?”

“Not a clue,” Tucker admitted.

Tim groaned.

Bart cocked his head. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be right back!”

Before Danny could even finish asking, “Where are you going?” Bart was gone.

Conner grabbed another slice of pizza and said, “He’s off to learn Esperanto. Hang tight and he’ll be right back.”

“How can he learn a language so fast?” asked Sam.

Tim swallowed. “He’s a speedster. His normal is faster than our brains can comprehend. He slows himself down so he can interact with us mere mortals. He’ll be back.”

Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, Bart was back among them. He repeated Tucker’s question. This time, when Wulf responded, the ghost was understood.

“So, Walker is pissed at Danny,” translated Bart. “And he totally wants to ruin your entire life and drag you back to his prison in the ghost zone. Apparently he and his guards are overshadowing a bunch of the people you’re close to in the town to trap you in their web of lies.”

Danny groaned and buried his face in his hands. “How do I fight against that? I can’t just soup them all! I don’t even know who all is overshadowed!”

Cassie butt in then. “We know some of them. Dash and your classmates are definitely overshadowed.”

“Your reputation improved thanks to the other night,” commented Conner. “That might help mitigate Walker’s plans.”

“Doubt it,” said Danny. “Most people think I’m a menace. One night of good publicity won’t turn them around. Especially not with my parents there to dirty my name.”

“Let’s prepare a press release,” suggested Tim. “I bet the Young Justice team could get themselves on the local news. And if we speak up for you, it might help.”

Danny exchanged looks with his two friends. Tucker shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt, dude.”

“Fine,” bit out Danny. “What else?”

Conner looked at Wulf curiously. “Bart, does Wulf know how we can get his collar off?”

“Oooh, good question.” Bart asked, but Wulf shook his head as he answered.

“Will he let me look at it?” asked Tucker.

“I might be able to help, too,” added Tim as he stepped closer and reached out to touch.

Before he could actually touch the collar, though, Wulf snarled at him and jumped back several feet. Tim held up his hands in apology and took a step back himself. “Sorry!”

Bart grinned at him. “He said don’t touch it.”

Tim grimaced and nodded. “Think I got that.”

Tucker was already typing away on one of his devices. “I’m gonna try something. Might help.”

And that’s when Wulf screamed out in pain and fell to the floor clawing at the collar.

“Shit!” shouted Tucker as he rushed forward. He managed to plug his device into a port on the collar. Electricity arced back along the connection, causing Tucker to yelp in pain and drop his PDA.

But a moment later, there was a beep and the collar fell to pieces.

Wulf looked down in shock, then up at all of them. “Mi libras?”

“You’re free, dude,” said Tucker.

Bart added something in Esperanto.

Wulf grinned at them, sharp teeth shining in the light. “Mi libras!” Then he turned and disappeared as he jumped through the wall.

Conner groaned and collapsed backwards. “Jerk couldn’t even stick around long enough to help us after everything we did for him.”

Tim sighed and sat down as well. “Well, we’ll figure it out ourselves. Just like we always do. So, operation Fix Danny’s Reputation. We’ll start with talking to the press. What else?”

“Can we write up op-eds describing what really happened in some of his ghost fights?” asked Cassie. “Set the record straight?”

“What if we make you easier to reach?” added Tim. “Get a number the police or the mayor can reach you at so you can show them you’re willing to work with them instead of just on your own?”

“Do you think that’ll work?” asked Danny.

Tim shrugged. “Worked for Batman. Don’t see why it wouldn’t help you.”

Danny sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Great,” said Tim. “I’ll send out some emails asking for interviews. And then we can start working on the op-eds. How about we split into three groups, Danny and me in one, the rest of you can split up how we like. Then we can go over the major ghost fights that have happened and write tell-all articles that don’t run the risk of spoiling Danny’s identity.”

Conner shrugged. “Sam, wanna work with me?”

Sam grinned. “You betcha.”

Bart disappeared and reappeared next to Tucker. “Tucker and I will work together, too!”

Cassie moved until she was next to Conner. “I call working with Sam and Kon.”

“Great. Now, Tuck, do you happen to know the best contact info for local reporters?” Tim pulled out his laptop and powered it on as he spoke.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll get it for you.”

Fifteen minutes later, Tim had sent out a dozen emails asking for interviews. As he and Tucker were working, Danny and Sam had gone through which ghost fights would be the best to write about and divided up the attacks between the three groups.

Once he was ready to start on the articles, Tim sat down next to Danny. “So, what are we starting with?”

Danny grinned. “We’re going to go over my first fight. The one with Lunch Lady. She wasn’t bad, but caused a lot of clean up for the school and wasted a lot of resources. Most people still don’t even know that was a ghost attack.”

“Great, let’s get started.”

Tim had heard about most of Danny’s fights before, but being next to him in person definitely made a difference. They were sitting with their arms pressed against each other so they could both see the computer screen and add or delete bits as they went. It was nice.

They’d been working for a few hours when Sam’s parents came down.

“Children!” called her mom.

Tim wasn’t the only one to hide a grimace at the term.

Jeremy Manson continued, “The mayor has instituted a curfew for the city due to all the ghosts. No one is allowed out on the streets after nine PM.”

Pamela Manson giggled. “And it’s nine PM now! So looks like you’ll all be staying here. Tim, dear, be sure to tell your father how seriously we took your safety. I don’t want any of you leaving the house until morning.”

Tim turned on his gala smile. “My dad is in a coma, I’m afraid. But I’ll be sure to tell Bruce just how considerate all the people of Amity have been.”

Jeremy let out a forced laugh. “Of course, our mistake. We wish our best to your father, as well. I hope his prognosis is good?”

Tim blinked at him. “He’s been in a coma for months.”

Pamela giggled again. “Of course, we knew that. Right, dear?” She smacked her husband lightly on the arm.

“Sure did!” he agreed. “Well, I hope to hear news of his miraculous recovery. I’m sure he is getting the best of care.”

“Of course he is,” agreed Tim. “I wouldn’t put up with anything less.”

A few more giggles and well wishes, then Pamela and Jeremy made a hasty retreat.

Once they were alone, Conner looked at him with concern. “Tim—”

“I’m fine, Conner.”

Before anyone else could try and say anything, his email beeped. Tim took the excuse and read it over. The most popular morning radio talk show wanted to have the Young Justice on. Tim grinned.

“We’re getting up early, guys. Radio interview at six AM.”

Cassie laughed. “I can do that, can you?”

Tim shrugged. “I just won’t go to sleep. Easier to stay up that late than drag myself out of bed that early.”

Conner shook his head. “You and your family are insane, Rob.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get back to work.”

-----

Next

This is where I definitely go off the rails of what happened in the show. But that's half the fun of an AU! Hope you like it.

I no longer tag for this fic, but if you want to be notified of updates, please check out the Subscription Post.

Scroll down to the next post on my blog to see the really cool birthday comic @stealingyourbones made for me!

[ciderwitch]

Imagine Chandelure Hybrid Ingo that's taken a liking to you! Features 18+ towards the end!

You're the first person who hasn't been petrified of him or his brother in a long time.

You find a house in Nimbasa City that has super cheap rent because it's haunted. With these prices? Yeah, a little haunting is not enough to scare you off. Sure, things move around on their own and the knobs rattle at night, but you can afford coffee and better food now so it's a sacrifice you're willing to make.

When you find out it's a ghost-type pokemon, you relax. Chandelure's don't actually consume human souls, right? Right. When you tried to greet the Chandelure floating around in the hallway it dematerialized in an instead. Poor thing was probably petrified of people!

Well, Ingo wouldn't say he was petrified.

He was initially attracted to the residual spiritual energy of the place that went along with people thinking it was haunted and was just trying to recharge. It was a good place to rest after holding himself in full human form at the gear station all day.

When you start leaving out ghost-type treats for him, though, it makes him laugh. He likes the way you smile when you find them gone in the morning and ends up giving them to his own Chandelure.

He tried avoiding the place when you weren't home for a while, but he found it much lonelier without your presence. He knows most people would panic if he showed them his true form.

Also, you would probably balk at the idea of a grown man hanging onto your ceiling when you were home alone.

His choice was made for him when you slipped on the stairs one day. Suddenly you found yourself in the arms of a handsome ghostly subway master.

Not the weirdest thing you've experienced in Nimbasa, honestly.

He tells you why he hangs around and apologizes profusely.

Hybrids are rare, but everyone knows they tend to be more instinctual. It would make sense that he's drawn here and it's not like he's done anything other than haunt the downstairs area, so you're not particularly bothered. Plus, he is the reason this place is so affordable.

You thank him for saving you and tell him he can stick around. You work out the details so you know when he'll be around and agree that it would be both funny and useful to keep the haunted rumors alive and well.

From there an easy friendship grows until Ingo (and his Galvantula brother Emmet) are there almost all the time because it's one of the few places they don't have to mask or hide.

Cue Ingo (and maybe also Emmet) and you falling in love. Ingo is shy, but Emmet is not and you will know how they feel mere minutes after they figure things out themselves.

So now you have a boyfriend (or two). Cue shenanigans.

Now for the NSFW 🔞

Maybe one day you have to invite a work friend or classmate over. This guy is just laying it on thick despite you telling him you weren't interested. You both have to get this project done in a few days so you're ignoring him.

"Nah, this place isn't haunted. It's just old and ugly. Next time you'll have to study at my place, Y/N. It's much more comfortable."

"I like my house just fine, thanks."

The dude is totally oblivious and not noticing Ingo's attempts to frighten him off at all. He misses the floating objects in the hallway, doesn't catch his evil reflection in the bathroom mirror, and grabs his mug off the table before Ingo can finish knocking it down.

Then the guy makes a crass joke about you guys having sex instead of working. At this point you were one comment away from kicking him out and doing the damned thing by yourself.

Ingo watches the guy eye you up and just snaps. As if his Y/n would stoop so low! He can do things that jerk can't even dream about!

He lets his body sink into the floor and float back up over by you, ghosting his head through the form of your legs to rest his head there. He can feel his pulse raise at the excitement of being this close to you. You and Ingo hadn't done anything yet, but just the thought of your taste had his mouth watering. That, and the knowledge that he could have you in all the ways that loser couldn't.

The jerk shudders and asks if you felt the temperature suddenly drop.

You say no, you didn't, even as you feel a cool touch across your legs. You glance down and see Ingo's form passing through your body to where your shorts cover your sex without even having to open your legs. You have to fight not to gasp as Ingo presses a pale hand there, as if asking for permission.

His violet-white eyes are beautiful, full of want and need, and who are you to say no to that?

With the subtlest of nods, you look back up.

As they guy carries on his single-handed conversation, Ingo's eyes are on you up as he presses a first firm lick to your sex.

Suddenly, without even moving your clothes aside, he's got his mouth on you and all you can do is try not to react.

The man across from you is completely unaware of the man underneath the table kissing into your sensitive sex. Your legs are frozen as he holds you still with his powers. Just the movement of his tongue alone is making it hard to speak.

You reach down to grab his hair but your hands just phase through him, powerless to push him away or ease his pace. You don't know which you need more: to slow the onslaught against your hole, or to hold him closer and push your hips against him more.

He decides for you when you feel his invisible strength quickly but gently pull your body forward.

The lights start to dim as the man finally notices something is going on, as papers and pens around you start to float while your lover's mouth is taking you apart. You bite your cheek to keep from moaning at the slick slide of your lover's tongue between your thighs. No matter how you squeeze your legs together, it just feels like you're getting completely devoured. You can feel the sticky mess spread even as Ingo works diligently to lick up every drop from you.

Finally, something crashes and the guy flees, calling you possessed and running out of the house like a madman. Ingo quickly pins you down on the couch and presses deeper, and you can't stop the sounds that are finally allowed to escape from your throat as he moans against you like a whore, praising you and begging for you to come on his face.

He holds your body tightly as you gush and writhe against him, spasming as he continues kissing and sucking your sex until you have to beg him to give you a break.

It doesn't last long before he's diving in again, addicted to your taste and the pretty sounds of your begging.

[myfemininedivine]

Can you please tell us what ending you planned for Taste? Always wondered if stupid Eva would have come back in the last chapters and what else you planned. It's my favorite story of yours.

I’ll give a very very bad and horrible run down of the last few chaps I had. I deeply apologize for not finishing, but I’m sure you understand. Still, im so sorry to not finish something I started.

The run down for the rest of TASTE would've been this:

Basically, if we focusing on the main couple..... (not gonna explain the smut but just know ofc it woulda been there)

WE LOVE IN SEPTEMBER:

I wanted to focus on all the miscommunication/horrible commitment issues. Most of the focus is on Lexi’s past relationship (guy basically ghosts her, moves out without comment, had commitment issues, extremely similar to Fezco in some ways except he never quite gets attached to Lexi unless she had other ppl after her; was planning on this guy and Fezco meeting in this chapter — Fezco does not know that this guy is the infamous ex).

You get a glimpse into Fezco and Lexi as an actual pairing, not just sex partners. Lot more domestic. curtains are OPEN. Fezco asks about her past relationship and gets the full picture. He sleeps over at her place most nights. He wants her to know that he’s serious about her, so they redo their entire first meeting. Retrace their footsteps under diff context. They go on an actual date, not just some meet up at the same diner I featured them in. She does meet Ash; some faye interaction. We r finally seeing a revealed business fezco voice!!!! lexi is like oh that's fine af actually.

Fezco does meet up with Eva to completely cut the tie. He feels that the only string between them is the fact that she sort of changed his life — I believe that it would’ve been like this reveal: how he got his job? She was the connect!!! And so he feels obligated to be there for her. From what I remember???). Lexi finds this out through Rue.

So, she inevitably doesn't know how to confront him. It doesn't matter tho bc Fezco tells her the moment that they meet!!!!!!

Anyway!

Rue is still plowing through relationship issues. Lexi meets up with Jules and basically sees the effects of heartbreak and gets some bad after taste of it. Jules reveals that it's not that she doesn't love Rue, it's that she doesn't know if they're ready or if they'll ever be ready. She's struggling with trusting the future. This sucks to Lexi. She trusts Fezco, but she also trusted rue and Jules relationship as it was the only stable relationship she had ever been exposed to. If not them, why would it would for her? (and nothing works out for her fr so it's like.)

Core thing is that Lexi is not really sure if she’s capable of trusting someone. All she knows is that she loves him and love is a fleeting, futile thing that doesn't have reason. Without reason, she goes to Fezco's apartment that same night, totally withdrawn and troubled, and he opens the door, doesn't ask question, pulls her into bed with him. This is where he tells her that he sort of really likes her, and she says that sort of really likes him. At first she's content with just that, but then he says something like 'I sort of really more than like you' and all of these thoughts sort of float and die away somewhere between that.

WE BLEED IN OCTOBER:

Halloween party is held to take place as planned by Fezco and Lexi (trying their absolute hardest to rekindle Jules/Rue) annnnddd Fezco does invite Lexi’s ex without realizing !!! It goes batshit crazy!!!!! Rue and Jules do not interact, Fezco's lead to believe that they're rlly done with each other (plot twist tho as Jules and Rue do reconcile and get caught being steamy in another room!!!!! who woulda thought !!!!!).

Lexi sees her ex, gets into a splat where this man is just DYING to get back w her all of a sudden since he seen Lexi and Fezco being full adults in love and shit. The guy does ask if Fezco is her boyfriend, and she hesitates. Fezco overhears this, basically gets this guy out and the energy between him and lexi just BOOM EXPLODE. They go into a separate room, have bit of an argument because he's confused as to why she didn't call him her boyfriend; she says she doesn't know why she hesitated.

Then, he says, "I love you, do you love me?"

She says yes but she admits to not knowing how to fully allow herself to. This literally KILLS him. Fezco says he's not a science experiment for her to prick and play with, and she either wants him or doesn't. They either work or they don't.

Lexi doesn't respond.

Fezco's distraught but calmly decides to take a break with their relationship at the end of this chapter. He isn't angry, he just really wishes they'd met with different intentions/desires.

WE FEAR IN NOVEMBER

you know how the chapter starts with the month? I was thinking of just being like "November." and then having blank space like BITCHHH LFAOOOOO I thought I was so slick for thinking of starting the chap all ominious with the twilight shit (Bellas depressed era!!!!).

ANYWAY. November.

Set the scene. They don’t talk. It’s hard to do that shit when you’re always 1 degree away from the person and planning a very very very small wedding ceremony that's due in 3 weeks. And the worst part? He doesn’t ignore her. He looks her in the eye, pretends as though they never tore away from each other. like !!!! He has literally no animosity for her and she's so riddled with guilt that she doesn't know how to soothe the fact that they aren't together without being selfish, saying she wants him when she, herself, is pretty broken in some way. but she loves him. she knows it but it's hard to accept that 'this' (her) is all she has to offer. She wishes he’d ignore her. He wishes she had more decency to not ignore him.

Wedding ceremony happens. Lexi IS best girl as Fezco IS best man, and they do walk down the aisle together. very much tension!!!! He tells her that she's beautiful!!!!!!! and she tells him that she misses him, to no response from him as the have to go on and walk in front of everyone. a bit gloomy but Fezco does stay looking at Lexi, and they do have a lil dance moment later in the night.

While everyone is cooling at the lil wedding after party, Lexi confesses to Rue that she always wanted something like that, what she has with Jules. And Rue basically hints that Lexi does even if it incarnated differently. Gives her some pep talk. If Jules didn't confront Rue, they wouldn't have gotten back together vice versa on if Rue didn't ask Jules out, they would've never been together. The chances of finding someone is slim and fleeting, that's why you grip onto the ones that root something into you. Fezco (of course) leaves the party.

Lexi does show up at his apartment later that night. He opens the door, doesn't know what to say but Lexi says that she's not all together, being broken and all. Fezco says that he is too, so they're of the same thing. A beat and then she says I love you and you love me. Fezco nods, says every little piece.

This terrifies Lexi and, in conjunction, terrifies Fezco. but what's worse to her is not being with him. And, thank the lucky stars, as he says some shit like “well I guess we gonna be scared together huh?” And she brightens up and says that she's never been so happy to be scared.

WE TASTE IN DECEMBER:

More of an epilogue. A calm after all that stupid shit.

Lexi decides to renew her apartment lease as does Fezco. They upgrade them friendship bracelets!!!!! Ash got himself a girl, on the phone with Fezco as he's getting ready for a lil party.

Reveal that mans has apartment key privileges!! He's letting himself in her apt and calling out her name !!!!

New years party that will be held at Jules's/rue's place (woop woop), Lexi is late as always but it’s ok bc daddy Fezco is there to joke about her needing to wear heels so she can stop running from him!!!!!!!!!!! They go, separate for a bit at the party where she DOES refer to him as her boyfriend, as he does refer to her as his girlfriend; then come back to the couch where they originally met. Lexi sits first, Fezco finds her this time!!! He jokes about whether she’s still in the streets and she says some cheesy shit like yeah, waiting for you (and we scream TOUCHDOWN!!!!). Fezco and Lexi basically simmer in their seats, smiling and kissing and finally fully engulfed, entwined to the soul.

P.S. Guilty pleasures would've morph into a connection between both characters; more interpersonal things rather than materialistic/celebratory items.

Here’s some of the writing that sits all glum! Hope this explanation gives plenty of closure.

[fanficfish]

micronations and their parent countries: a hetalia ramble

so i was thinking about this and couldn't find shit so here goes my headcanons

well it feels more like i'm stating facts but there's some headcanons in here and def since I haven't read the latest episodes properly. I'll probably make a proper headcanon list later

First off- i imagine them as like. What happens when a group of people get ambitious, and suddenly this personification pops up like some weird ritual. This post sums it up. I mostly agree with it.

anyways

Austria: from my parenting post: he's a lot better at ot it now, or maybe he just decided that trying tobdo anything to Kugel is just too much work. He's...definitely one of those parents with the slightly-feral child, and okay so he did try to profit off the kid but he does that with everything including his own famous composer, his own landmarks, and everything in between. Look, the kid's (usually) fed, has endless art supplies, and as long as he doesn't do anything too destructive Austria lets him be. Actually he and Sweden might be in kahoots, considering that time both Ladonia and Kugelmugel planned to do some construction work....(Veneziano is just a little jealous Kugel doens't have no-pasta punishments)

Speaking of Sweden: total pushover. Ladonia knows this. Sealand is learning this. If your eyes are big enough you WILL get the reward. But he's also best dad, such a dad, had a closet of dad stuff, we all know this he's a family man (Finland is the babysitter bestie that ends up at Sweden's half the time because the man lives in an IKEA and it's a little bit chaotic he won't lie) (I imagine they did quite a lot of renovation work to make the IKEA liveable, but that does beg the question: how many living rooms does Sweden have and can you imagine trying to leave Sweden's after a night of drinking- actually maybe that's why, Sweden was trying to do a social experiment on drunk Denmark-)

but anyways yeah, Finland lets Sweden deal with the children. His kids, his problem. It works, and anyways between them they already have Aland and all those other bits of their countries to deal with. Finland's got his hands full. Sweden's def the dad teaching you how to fix all the problems yourself though, Ladonia and Sealand def know how to unclog a toilet and change a sink pipe. Probably have the most human-like family experience, excluding NikoNiko. A sense of normalcy if you will.

America is more like the cool older cousin. He's already got 50 states and too many territories, why not add a few micronations? He and Canada treat the micros like the rest of their states minus the boring legislature stuff- their micronations can run wild, just don't cause problems, pay your taxes, and they can run themselves it's probably fiiiiine. I mean, look at Alaska and Hawaii! They're doing fine! Uh, don't look at Florida, or look at Quebec wrong. Though unlike the states and provinces, the gaggle of North America micronations tend to submit more to their ruling country considering 1. America and Canada are very very very strong and 2. Why try to fight for independence when you can chill out and have them do most of the work for you? Their states and provinces they reside in kinda just don't care too much, but Nevada and California are also Just Like That anyways, no comment on the Aerican Empire's colonization of Mars though. America and Canada keep some awareness of their micronations but unlike China and Japan, who have all their provinces with them in one house, it's spread over like....70 hours total....so for the NA bros, just an occassional check-in is usually fine to them. The micronations end up being a bit free-reign from this but America and Canada tend to be a little occupied being superpowers. America did get Molossia that weird pet of his as an apology a long time ago, and Canada sends maple flavored cookies to his micronations whenever he does a baking stream with America.

Australia: Probably the strictest of the parent countries, somehow. Cracks down on Hutt River's missed taxes, insists on the Wy Driveway Issue, etc. He's a wilderness hellscape trooper, alright? New Zealand is the cool uncle that's tired of playing parent so he lets everything be.

England looks at Sealand like his annoying little brother, or that little cousin you have to keep an eye on. He's plenty guilty for the whole war thing, but is usually too busy fighting France or America or restoring castles or dealing with royals to keep tabs on a child at the standard he'd prefer, so he lets Sweden handle Sealand most of the time. Sealand's first instinct is to bother England though, so that's that. It's actually kind of sweet, once you get past England's default mode being being pissed off by something and Sealand mouthing off on purpose to be The Problem (for attention). And England, despite his threats, will never leave Sealand out in the rain on his doorstep. To the point he's canonically sat through weird phone conversations. He's just...not ready to be essentially a parent again, after America and having to let go of Canada, Australia, India, New Zealand...... (he is also very scared of his family tree if he thinks about micronations)

Japan is an old man. He's a socially Awkward baby deer who's somehow in charge of all these prefectures and now he has to deal with NikoNiko poping up every so often???? Screw that! (He does give NikoNiko his personal number though. The kid might have a living family and micronation friends to hang with and the prefectures to bother, but Japan's still a believer in raising them right, and his door's open no matter how...odd....the circumstances are)

Seborga just hangs with the rest of Italy's former city-states. I headcanon that when Veneziano and Romano became the two prominant personifications for Italy, the others backed off like with Germany's older brothers uniting to form Germany, except the two already existed. Most of them disappeared, but a few stuck around and surrpsiingly because Seborga couldn't decide if he should be his own country or not he got to stick around too! Italy V doesn't mind and neither does Italy R, so Seborga finds himself quite relaxed with two older brothers, he's disappointed he doesn't get to grow up but he's probably the most "normal" of the micros and honestly? The Italies treat him like he's a state, so he's fine where he is in life. At least he gets to see his brotheres frequently enough

actually it was probably like he woke up to find out everyone was one country now, and was like "cool whatever i'll do the paperwork later", few asleep, and later on he was like "oh shoot" but Italy had unified and at some point Seborga kinda just accepted he was a micronation when his people went "yo" since he never actually signed anything and the Italies were like "lol thats funny yeah that's fine whatever". Oh gosh, does that make Seborga technically adoptively realted to Austria and by extension Germany and wait does that Make Kugel technically Seborga's cousin-

wait omg that one episode where Seborga asks Austria about Kugel.

welp that's enough for one day

idk thats it for now i need to catch up on the new guys.

[burrowbabe]

Give and Take - Chapter 5

"Travis is here." you respond, grimacing in his direction.

She turns to look over her shoulder.

" ... and he's coming this way."

Your ex proved to be one of then worst people on the planet. While that is the consensus amongst most couples who have broken up, you like to believe he takes the cake.

He quickly makes it to your table in a few strides with a smug look on his face.

"Hey guys. Long time, no see."

He leans his arm on the back of your chair, looking down at you.

"Can I help you?" you question with a look of disgust on your face.

"Just being friendly, Anna."

"For once ..." you quip. "I'm trying to have a nice night with my friends if you don't mind, thanks."

He looks around the table as if waiting for someone to beg him to stay. Of course, no one does considering your past with him. Your friends were never his friends despite what he thinks.

"Nice to see no one has changed." He mutters.

Putting his hands up to surrender, he backs away from the table.

"Jeez ... tough crowd. I'll be seeing you around." he directs at you with a wink.

With a roll of your eyes, you quietly apologize to the table for the interruption and motion for the waitress to bring the check.

"No, no. Please, it's my treat." Joe insists, taking the check and handing over his credit card.

"I just want to get out of here." you say and the rest of the group thanks Joe for dinner.

"He's a tool Anna. Forget about it!" Tana says, caressing your back on the car ride home.

"I'm fine ... just annoyed is all."

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a stress headache coming on.

"He always does this. Pops up out of the blue to remind me how miserable our relationship was."

"He must be looking for me to beat his ass again." your brother comments from the row behind, garnering a defeated laugh from you.

"Who was that girl?" Tana wonders aloud.

"I don't know, and I don't care." You reply, watching the nightlife whizz by the window to distract yourself.

--

Travis was a class A narcissist. You had met him for the first time at 15 years old when you attended the Grammy's after party. You had swept the rap category with your debut album.

As you awkwardly made small talk with your music idols, Travis had approached you, offering to sneak you some alcohol. Taking him up on his offer, you and him sipped champagne behind some bushes. He was charming, he made you laugh, and he was incredibly handsome.

You didn't meet again for 2 years, spotting him at a night club one night with your friends. From there, you both were inseparable.

3 long years of dating turned into the most tumultuous experience of your life. The honeymoon phase was far over just a couple months in, but you were convinced that if you love someone, you make it work no matter the circumstances.

It had been 10 months since your very public breakup, and running into him was not getting any easier.

--

It seemed everyone had caught on to the fact that your mood was soiled for the rest of the night. So, the group went their separate ways when the town car dropped you off at your house.

You let the hot water run down your neck and shoulders for a long while, hoping it would relieve some of the tension your ex had caused.

While you felt more comfortable in your sweats, you still weren't totally relaxed.

When you go downstairs, you see Tana passed out on one side of the couch and Joe watching TV.

"Where'd everyone go?" you ask as you approach the living room. Pausing the movie he was watching, Joe turns to look at you.

"Ja'Marr went to meet some friends at the club, Nick went home, and your brother invited a girl over." he explains with a shrug.

Nodding your head with pursed lips, you sit down on the couch next to Joe.

He resumes the movie for a while, you both just silently enjoying Pootie Tang.

"Are you OK?" he asks after a long while.

Taking a deep breath, you shrug.

"Yeah I guess."

You bite your inner cheek and make eye contact. He looks at you intently, noticing the glaze over your eyes from tears that could spill any second.

"I don't even like his music anyway." Joe says, drawing a weak smile from you.

"He's terrible." you say, shaking your head.

A beat of silence goes by.

"I can't say that I didn't see the gossip in the media when you guys broke up. I don't know how guys can just dog girls like that." Joe says.

"Me neither." You mutter. "Took me a long time to figure it out."

You meet Joe's eyes as he nods. You can feel tears rush to your eyes and the last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of him. You didn't even feel sad about the situation anymore, just incredibly exhausted by having to rehash it.

Biting your lower lip, you swallow hard to keep from looking like you were ready to burst into tears.

"I think I'm just gonna put myself to bed." You say, getting up from the couch. "Goodnight."

"Night." He replies. When you're gone, Joe is too lost in his thoughts to realize Tana was awake.

"There is some serious tension there." She says, snapping Joe out of his trance.

"What do you mean?"

"You were totally 2 seconds away from kissing." She says, matter-of-factly.

Shaking his head with a furrowed brow Joe denies it.

"If you say so." She says, definitely not convinced.

"He hit her you know." She says, causing Joe's head to whip around.

"What?"

"Right here in the house. They had a fight and he punched her and threw her down the stairs. Him and AJ got into a brawl, the cops came ... all that." She explains.

"Are you kidding me? That's insane!" Joe replies, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, we couldn't believe it. All because she confronted him about cheating on her." She scoffs and shakes her head.

"She disappeared back home to New York for like 4 months and we didn't hear from her. She was really fucked up over the whole situation. Then randomly she just showed up again, happy as hell." Tana continues.

"Do you think she's OK now?" He asks.

"She's stronger than me, that's for sure. I think she just needed a break from LA. She's definitely back to her old self, which we're all happy about, but I do think she should branch out and find someone new." Tana says, whipping the blanket off of herself.

"Welp, I'm going up to my room. See ya in the morning Joey boy."

Joe spends the next few minutes staring off into space in silence, going over what Tana had told him. Call it mid-Western, mama's boy values, or just plain morals, but he was furious that someone could disrespect a woman like Travis had disrespected Anna.

He couldn't imagine hurting Anna, or any woman for that matter intentionally. She was different, nothing like he had ever encountered before.

He was attracted to her confidence and success, her kindness and generosity, and their difference in upbringing and culture intrigued him.

He put himself to bed that night fantasizing about the ways he would treat Anna differently than her ex. This somehow aroused him and he ignored the urge to touch himself, at least for tonight.

One step at a time. He tells himself.

He wanted whatever might transpire between he and Anna to be organic.

Friends first. He thinks.

Whatever distrust she had in men romantically, he was determined to fix that.

[waywardrose-archive]

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY | 4

stranger things | eddie munson x reader | rated e | 3.6k

spotify playlist | for @punk-in-docs​​​​

fem/witchy/goth!reader, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, series-typical horror,  period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, fantasizing, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until  his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which  flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird?

Weird weird?

He shrugged. He liked weird.

In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: Apologies for the wait. As always, life finds a way to prevent me from writing. 😫 (I swear, we are army-crawling closer to the smut.) Thank you once again for the likes, reblogs, and comments! 🖤 Check the #em tagd tag ⬇️ for previous chapters.

-

4

The line rang and rang. You paced by your bedroom desk. The new phone cord restricted your range to three steps in any direction. Pulling out a notepad, you wrote ‘longer phone cord.’

“Dammit, Eddie.”

The line clicked as someone answered on the other end. You straighten, hoping it wasn’t his uncle with bad news.

“Hello?”

Eddie.

“This is the second time I’ve called, butthead. Where were you?”

With a smile in his voice, he said, “I stopped to take a leak.”

“You scared the shit outta me.”

“My apologies, milady.”

“Don’t ‘milady’ me, sir. I thought you were dying in a ditch.”

“Nah, just peeing in one.”

You laughed despite your fading worry and sat in the desk chair, bending to unlace your Docs.

“You don’t deserve my mixtape now.”

“I don’t? Don’t you want to civilize me?”

“My music’s hardly for the civilized.”

He hummed, and it almost sounded like a purr. You froze, and your stomach swooped. You imagined him making that noise as you smoothed back his unruly hair to suck on his neck.

The tinny scratch of a lighter and the crackle of burning tobacco filled the silence. You wanted a cigarette, too, but it wouldn’t help.

“You’ve spoiled me,” he said. “My cigs taste like shit now.”

“Then buy better cigs.”

“Or I can keep bumming from you.”

“That’ll cost you.”

“Yeah? What’s the toll?”

You wanted to say kisses. Make-out sessions. Orgasms. But what if he laughed? Blew it off? Made a joke of it? Then you’d have to roll with it and laugh and say you were only kidding. No, of course, I wouldn’t extort affection from you!

You hummed in thought. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

“You’re making me worried over here.”

“Serves you right.”

“Were you really that worried?”

“Yes!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really had to go.”

You sighed, the endearment softening your resolve. “I believe you. It’s just this town. It feels...”

You shrugged a shoulder.

“Yeah, I know,” said Eddie. “But I’m fine. Just hungry.”

“Well, eat something.”

“But I’m talking to you.”

“Then I’ll let you go.”

“No. No, don’t...” A faucet gurgled, then silenced. “I’ll drink some water.”

It was quiet as he drank.

“Eddie?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did you have a good time at the party?”

“Meh.” He exhaled. “It got better when you showed up.”

You dipped your head to ease the sudden tightness in your throat and coughed. It barely worked.

Your voice was raspy as you said, “Yeah, same here.”

The party had been a typical house party: couples dry-humping to pop music, jocks posing, a girl crying in the bathroom, someone highjacking the stereo, and hormones clouding every square inch. The only thing different had been Eddie. You could’ve sat on that glider bench with him for the rest of the night.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, throat’s dry.”

“Maybe I should be the one letting you go.”

You grinned and said, “I’ll manage.”

-

You’d given him the promised mixtape before class started, telling him you had enough leftover songs to make a second. Maybe even a third. However, if he didn’t like this first one — and you said it was totally cool if he didn’t — you wouldn’t subject him to more. He’d read the track listing and recognized one band out of fifteen.

He hadn’t wanted to look ignorant, but he was impressed. He’d nodded, thanked you, and pocketed the tape.

No one in Hawkins had this kind of unusual taste, he thought as he opened and closed the empty cassette case. The plastic click was nice. So were you.

You were also special — and weird. He liked weird. He liked you. He liked your smile, your lips. Fuck, your lips. He wanted to kiss you all the time, kiss you until it hurt. He felt constipated in his brain with how much he wanted to kiss you.

He couldn’t concentrate on writing a decent continuation of the campaign for Hellfire. Sitting next to you during O’Donnell’s was the best and the worst. He didn’t have to wonder what you were up to, because you were right there. But you were right there, and he wanted to talk to you — or crawl under your desk. He wanted to learn everything about you. But then you would ask him about him, and he didn’t want you discovering how much he’d failed at, how many milestones he’d missed.

You didn’t know he lived in a run-down trailer park. No matter how many drugs he pushed, he couldn’t get him and Wayne out. Something always went wrong with one of their vehicles. Or the roof leaked, or a pipe cracked from a hard winter’s freeze. Sometimes Wayne’s hours were cut at the plant because the union had been busted years ago and his bosses were assholes. A belt broke in the washing machine, and they’d had to haul soapy clothes to the laundromat. Then that one time when the microwave started flickering and smoking as if possessed by the ghosts of TV dinners past.

That might’ve been his fault.

And fuck lettuce. He’d never buy another stupid head of lettuce again.

Still, it was always something.

And you didn’t know any of it. Eddie didn’t want you knowing any of it.

You were definitely too good for him. The thought of you settling for him made him queasy. Sure, he’d leave Hawkins after graduation, but he realized he wouldn’t make it far. Maybe Indianapolis or Columbus. If he were lucky, Chicago — where he could maybe find work as a studio musician.

In an ideal world, he would lead Corroded Coffin to Los Angeles, where they’d play gigs and be discovered by a record label. Maybe after that he could find a partner and have a deeper connection than some eye-fucking during a concert, followed by a quickie in some backseat.

Granted, he’d only done that once, but he wanted more. He thought about you wanting more. Did you feel the same? Chicks were supposed to want the whole shebang. He liked the thought of you wanting that from him. It still made him queasy, but maybe...

Maybe he could earn it and make you proud.

The phone rang in the kitchen, jolting him from his thoughts. He nearly fell off the corner of his bed where he’d been sitting and staring at the silent boombox. Like a nutcase. He was thankful Wayne had already left for work.

He stumbled over his feet — and a few things on the floor — as he left his room. He righted himself in the hall and answered the phone in the middle of the third ring.

“Hey, did you listen to the tape yet?” you asked.

He was immediately on high alert. He hadn’t expected you to call after checking on him Saturday night.

“Yeah, some of it,” he said. “Popped it in the van after Hellfire Club—”

“Hellfire? Like the English group of devil worshippers?”

“No.” He scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I named it in honor of them, but no.”

“Then what’s Hellfire Club?”

He feigned a serious tone as he said, “An exclusive club for persons of quality.”

You sounded less than impressed when you asked, “So, just guys, then?”

“No, ‘persons.’ Anyone cool.”

“But what is it?”

With a shrug, he said, “A bunch of nerds that play Dungeons and Dragons.”

You laughed, making him feel electrified. He didn’t care if you laughed at his expense. He got you to laugh, and that was what mattered.

“One of my old friend’s boyfriend played D and D,” you said with a smile in your voice. “He had a huge collection of sourcebooks and stuff.”

He sat at the kitchenette, not believing his ears. You’ve read Lord of the Rings, knew D&D, had cool taste in music, and were gorgeous. According to the Munson Doctrine, ladies like you were out of his league.

“You ever play?” he asked.

“No, but I paged through his Dungeon Master’s Guide while they made out in the living room.”

“That’s like the Bible for DMs.”

“Figured as much.”

He said, “I’m the DM for Hellfire.”

“Of course you are.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not.”

“You seem like a leader, is what I’m saying.”

“A compliment, then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“A shepherd for the lost sheep at Hawkins.”

“Is that what you do?” you asked in a teasing tone. “Tell stories for little lambs?”

He hummed in amusement. “Unfortunately, going to class impedes that second calling.”

-

You opened the latest issue of Propaganda to finally read the interview with The Sisters of Mercy. A list of upcoming tour dates ended the article. You frowned because they were playing two shows in New York this coming weekend, but you didn’t live there anymore. You lived in stupid Indiana now.

But then you saw they were playing Chicago on Halloween.

You snuggled into the mound of pillows on your bed as you thought. Halloween was on a Friday this year. Chicago was less than three hours away. Your parents were leaving that morning for some business conference in Cincinnati. They’d be gone until Monday night.

If you posed as Mom and called yourself out of school, you could be in Chicago just in time for lunch.

You glanced at your phone. Eddie might want to go with you. He’d said he liked both cuts from the Sisters you’d put on the mixtape. However, Halloween was a party night. He’d probably be busy dealing. Or maybe Corroded Coffin would have a show — where he’d be all sweaty and beautiful again.

Still. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though, would it?

It was Wednesday, and after ten, so he should be home. If not, you’d ask him before class tomorrow.

You went to the phone, hesitating with your palm on the handset.

Did you want to be alone, far from home, with a guy you’d met a month and a half ago?

Eddie wasn’t a creep, though. He was a good guy. He didn’t seem the type to force himself on anyone, either. He wasn’t aggressive. Sometimes he was loud or boisterous, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was a fun thing, an Eddie thing. It made you wonder how he’d be during sex. The sole guy you’d done it with had been silent, only coming with a sharp inhale.

Instinct told you Eddie would be vocal, which made you hot all over. Maybe you’d never find out either way, but you’d like his company on Halloween. It was just a road-trip and a concert.

You picked up the handset and dialed his number. It didn’t ring long until he answered.

“Hey,” you said.

He answered with a drawn out ‘hey.’

You laughed, realizing Eddie was high. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothin’ much, baby. What’re you doing?”

“Calling to ask you something?”

“Is it something illegal? Do you need help burying a body? Are we pouring you a new patio?”

You laughed again. “No!”

“Pfft! No fun.”

“Well, it might be. If you say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Ha! That was easy.”

“What did I agree to?”

“Coming to Chicago with me on Halloween.”

“Why’re we going to Chicago?”

“To see The Sisters of Mercy play.”

“As one does.”

“Yep, as one does.” You twisted the phone cord around your finger. “So, do you want to come with me?”

He hummed. “Halloween’s a Friday.”

“Yeah, I’m going to skip.”

“And drive back that night?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead. If you did the long drive up, went to the concert, and drove back that night, you wouldn’t be home until almost dawn. That was a long day — even for you.

You said, “I guess we could get a room for the night? There’s got to be something nearby.”

He hesitated, and your heart sank. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable with you like that. He’d only met you last month. He didn’t know you weren’t a psycho. Plenty of people kept their distance because of how you dressed. It usually worked in your favor, but perhaps not this time.

Then again, it was short notice for a road-trip, concert tickets, and a night in a hotel. He may not have the money, which wasn’t a big deal.

Or maybe he had the money, but he just didn’t want to do all that with you.

“Hey,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. “If you don’t want to, it’s cool.”

“No, it’s...”

“If it’s gas money, I’ll drive, no problem. The tickets won’t be super expensive. And my mom will give me food-slash-emergency money before they leave. I can use it to pay for the room.”

“Leave?”

“Oh, yeah— Heh! Forgot to mention: my parents are going out of town that weekend.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

“But still, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“I...”

“Please? It’ll be fun, I promise. We can do whatever we want! Anything you want.”

-

His gut tightened at your promise. Anything he wanted. He wanted a lot of things. His dick jerked against the zipper of his jeans. He definitely wanted to be alone with you, go on a road-trip with you, get crazy at a concert with you. He wanted to kiss you and touch your tits and feel your legs around his hips and and and—

Shit, he was too high for this.

He dragged a hand over his face, wishing suddenly it was your ass. He wanted to rub his face all over it, make it wobble against his cheeks. He liked your ass.

He liked your mixtape, too. All of it, actually. The Sisters of Mercy were on there — that he remembered.

It wouldn’t matter if he missed a day of school. The flock would survive one day without him. Hellfire wouldn’t be meeting that night, anyway, because the freshmen wanted to go trick-or-treating.

“Eddie?” you asked.

Fuck it.

This is the story of how a Munson had an adventure, and found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected.

He said, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

You squealed in delight, giving him a new kind of head-rush. It was like weed plus whiskey, sprinkled with Doritos and nacho cheese with extra jalapenos. He leaned more on the counter as he laughed. He didn’t know what he laughed at, but his laughter relieved a tension no drug could soothe.

It was all so simple. He’d been overthinking, examining each interaction with you from every angle. But it was simple. He needed to concentrate on the good shit. You trusted him and invited him on an adventure. You wanted to share something with him. On Halloween of all days, which must be a high holy day for goths.

And he was going to treat you so good, you wouldn’t know what to do.

The smile was so bright in your voice when you said his name again. Like sparklers on the Fourth of July. He wanted you to say his name like that every day.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll plan then.”

He grinned. He knew it was goofy. Wayne would’ve seen right through him, if he were home.

“Good idea.”

“Well... Good night.”

“Good night, milady,” he said softly, placing the handset in its cradle and trailing his fingers down it.

.

It took days to persuade Wayne to call him out of school on Halloween. Eddie didn’t really need to do it — he was nineteen, for fuck’s sake, and could call himself out — but he didn’t want to lie to Wayne. He lied enough as it was.

Wayne asked for every detail: who he was traveling with, whose car, which band, what hotel. And what about meals, huh? Wayne didn’t expect him to live on cold Pop-Tarts for forty-eight hours — though Eddie could totally do that.

When he told Wayne he was going with you, Wayne grunted and took a long pull from his cigarette.

Eddie tried to play it casual. He kept his eyes on the TV, watching the commercials during Designing Women. Wayne did the same before grinding his cigarette out in the ashtray by his recliner.

“You like this girl?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, I guess. She’s cool,” he said, recrossing his ankles.

Wayne was silent for too long. He glanced over to find Wayne observing him.

“Edward,” he said, tone serious. “Do you like this girl?”

He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand on the thigh of his jeans.

“Yeah, I do.”

Jesus, he really did. And he hadn’t even kissed you. Maybe he could roll for constitution in Chicago. Because he hadn’t skill checked at all during Jimmy Kirk’s party. He didn’t know why he was thinking in D&D terms. He needed to focus on the present conversation.

“—parents know you’re goin’ with her?”

It took him a second to fill in the blanks.

“Um, yeah? I think so?”

Wayne grunted again. “And how old is she?”

“Seventeen? Eighteen? She’s a senior.”

Wayne nodded.

“Alright, but you keep your wits about you, hear? Thinkin’ cap.”

He agreed by pantomiming putting on a hat.

“No funny business, either,” Wayne said. “We don’t need no miniature Munsons runnin’ around in nine months.”

His face burned. He looked to the ceiling, lips curled between his teeth. He wasn’t up to bat with you, let alone getting to any bases. Knocking you up hardly seemed a possibility. He liked the activity that led to babies, naturally, but no babies just yet.

“Jesus Christ, Wayne.”

“Well, somebody had to say it!”

Wayne laughed, then coughed, then continued laughing.

“And you elected yourself as spokesman?” Eddie asked.

“Damn straight, kiddo, you’re my blood.”

They shared a grin before Wayne tacked on: “Now get me another beer.”

.

On the Wednesday before Halloween, he suggested meeting around nine on Friday at the park by the community pool. It should still be open. You replied you could pick him up at his place, but he thought fast to say it wasn’t a big deal. Wayne wouldn’t mind dropping him there after work.

“I thought he worked second shift?” you asked.

“He does, but sometimes third, too.” He shrugged. “It’s more money.”

You nodded.

“Of course,” you said, but didn’t sound convinced.

Eddie knew not to say any more. Lies, even white ones, had to be kept simple. It wasn’t as if Wayne didn’t occasionally work third shift.

He’d have to talk Wayne into waking early to drive him when he got home after school.

.

Thursday night, he unearthed Wayne’s old army duffle from the floor of his closet. He shook it out and gave it a sniff. It smelled like old canvas. He left it to air out as he rolled joints. You seemed cool with weed. He riffled through the lunchbox, finding little bottles of molly and k, and leftover tabs of acid.

He couldn’t leave that for anyone to find.

He kicked the lunchbox under his bed and folded all the bottles and baggies in a pair of acid-wash jeans. If you didn’t want any, they were safe. If you did, he had an assortment of goodies.

Staring at the lone pair of jeans next to the duffle had him spiraling. He wasn’t going to a heavy metal concert. He was going to a goth concert. He wasn’t goth. He didn’t know what goths wore to concerts. He assumed leather pants and ruffly shirts, neither of which he kept in his vast repertoire of sumptuous attire.

In hindsight, he should’ve thought about this when you’d first invited him. It hadn’t dawned on him until the night before his usual threads wouldn’t do.

Goddammit, he did this kind of shit all the time.

Okay, he thought. Okay, okay, okay. If he wouldn’t fit in, he at least didn’t want to embarrass you... Plain wasn’t embarrassing. Plain was good. He had plain stuff.

Dark t-shirt, check. Dark henley, check. Dark jeans, check. Leather boots, double check. Leather jacket — waiting by the back door — big check. Socks and underwear, check. Toiletries, check and check.

He didn’t know how many checks that had been, but figured it was plenty.

.

Friday found him scrambling for extra money and music. There hadn't been enough checks last night. He couldn’t believe he’d nearly forgotten two essential elements. Actually, yes, he could.

Wayne gave him a twenty as Eddie stuffed bills from the Get (the fuck) Out of Hawkins Fund in his wallet. He looked at the twenty and back to Wayne, but Wayne only shrugged. It wasn’t an endorsement, per se, yet it felt like one. It was a lot of money, too. That was two tanks of gas — with extra for a Slim Jim or whatever.

The ride to the park was quiet without the radio on. He would usually want music, but this wasn’t his ride. He tried not to bounce his knee as he hoped they weren’t too late. It was only five after.

You were already in the parking lot, though, leaning a hip against your car. You didn’t appear pissed as you straightened when Wayne stopped nearby. Honestly, you looked beautiful in the golden light streaming through the autumnal trees. You lifted the black sunglasses off your face to give him a radiant smile.

His gut clenched even as he smiled back. He was screwed.

Wayne nudged his thigh. He turned to find Wayne — his uncle, the man who took him in over a decade ago, whom he probably disappointed on a weekly basis — offering a small box of condoms.

“Jesus H. Christ, Wayne,” he whisper-screamed, snatching the box from Wayne.

Wayne smirked as Eddie hid the box deep in the duffle.

“She’s pretty,” Wayne said. “So keep your wits about you.”

“I will, promise.”

Wayne nodded, saying, “Good.” He pointed with his chin. “Best get goin’ then.”

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

Totally Spies (Valkyries)- Chapter 31

@aelinchocolatelover @sunshinebingo

After talking about the scattered shards, the boys took the girls to the kitchen. No one was allowed to go into the kitchen because the robots were the ones that served everyone food at certain times of the day. But because the boys had forgotten to go to the store to get more food, they had no choice but to go to the kitchen to see if there was any food left.

Nesta started to whine as she, Gwyn, and Emerie followed Cassian to the kitchen. “How much further? I’m starving,” she said as Cassian groaned. “We’ll get there when we get there. Be patient,” he replied as he and the girls turned a corner. A silver door with a circle window was to the left of the group. “Stay here?” he told them as he looked through the window like he was checking something. When he was finished, he gestured for the girls to come to the door. Cassian opened the kitchen door.

The girls gasped. The kitchen was huge. It had 3 fridges, 2 ovens, 2 stoves, and 4 microwaves. It also had a pantry that was resting next to the 2 ovens. The girls’ eyes were wide as the sun. “This kitchen is the size of my own house,” Emerie commented as Gwyn and Nesta laughed. Cassian smiled while rolling his eyes. “Now listen, this is a one-time thing and if Boss catches you guys I’m not gonna help you.” Cassian said as his watch on his wrist started to beep. “Rhysand and Az need me in the forensics room. You 3 stay here.”

“Do we have to?” Gwyn whined as Cassian walked toward the door and looked back at the girls. “I thought you were hungry,” he smirked as Gwyn pouted. “And don’t even think about eating any more chocolate. I hid it somewhere you will never find it.” Cassian said as he finally left the kitchen.

The girls looked at each other for a couple of seconds until they scattered across the room to find the chocolate. “It’s gotta be somewhere.”

“Check the pantry.”

“I don’t see it.” As the girls searched for their prize, they failed to notice that someone had already entered the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” The girls turned sharply, afraid that it was Cassian, but soon relaxed when they realized that it was just one of the robots that cooked the meals for the agents. The robot was a little bit bigger than the girls but not taller than the boys. He was made of metal and his arms were like claws but not the sharp kind. The robot’s eyes were cyber blue, and he had an antenna on top of his head.

Nesta walked over to the robot. “Hi, I’m Nesta, this is Emerie and Gwyn. We’re the new recruits.” The robot scanned the girls with his eyes. When he was done, his eyes turned green. “Identification confirmed. Apologizes for assuming the wrong thing.” the robot apologized as Gwyn jumped down from the counter. “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

“C4RV3R.” The robot replied. Gwyn knew the robot was speaking in code so she cracked it in her head. “Can we call you...Carver?” she asked as the robot’s eyes turned into a rainbow color for a couple of seconds and turned back to blue. “Name acceptable. Thank you Gwyneth Berdara.”

“Gwyn is just fine.” Gwyn blushed as Carver strolled over to the counter where Gwyn jumped off of. Carver opened the bottom cabinet and pulled out a jar of Hersey’s Chocolate bars.

The girls gasped as Carver placed the jar on the table. “I heard you talking about chocolate before I came inside.”

“Thanks, Carver!” Emerie and Nesta cheered as they opened the jar to munch on the chocolate. Gwyn looked at Carver with a smile on her face. “Thanks, Carver.”

“Thank you for choosing my name.” Carver said with sympathy. “I wish you could eat with us.” Gwyn replied as Carver shook his head. “I do not need a digestive system for my body.” he said to her as Gwyn smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Are you going to tell Team Night?” she asked using the boys’ team name. The robot shook his head again. “I do not work for Team Night.” he replied before turning around and walking out of the kitchen.

Gwyn looked at her friend and playfully glared. “Hey, don’t eat all the chocolate without me.”

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

Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian were downstairs in the forensics room. The room was filled with jars of samples from past criminals and monsters. There were computers and science equipment for each lab table that was waiting to be occupied by someone new. Rhysand had agreed that he and his brothers should study more of the jasper shard while the girls relax and have some food in the kitchen. Not like they deserved it after what happened this morning.

Azriel was sitting in the chair looking through a microscope, while Rhysand and Cassian were playing rock paper scissors behind him. Azriel grumbled after Cassian made a noise of defeat. “Can you two keep it down please?” Azriel said to his brothers without looking up from the microscope. His brothers apologized, and it was quiet for a moment before Azriel felt a hot breath flying over his shoulder. He didn’t have to look to know that it was Cassian. “Cass, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Cassian replied. That may be true, but his breathing was still bothering Azriel. Azriel growled under his breath and finally looked up from the microscope. Cassian had a smirk on his face. “Can’t you see I’m working?”

“Can’t you see I’m bored?” Cassian pouted playfully. Azriel knew his brother was just trying to annoy him but there was only so much he could take. He was tired. He was up since 2am in the morning Cassian wasn’t helping.

Azriel got up from the chair that he was sitting in. “Listen, Cass, I’m working, and you can’t disturb me right now!” Azriel yelled. However, it was a lot harsher than he intended when he noticed Cassian flinch a little. “Alright alright, jeez I’ll leave you alone.” Cassian replied as he started to walk over back to Rhysand who was glaring at Azriel. Azriel sighed. “Cass, I didn’t-”

An orange glow shined into the room through the jasper shard, startling the boys. The glow only lasted for a moment until it was back to normal. The boys raced over to the lab table, almost knocking it over with their weight. “What just happened?” Rhysand asked. Azriel looked through the microscope again. The glow from the shard caused it to grow in size. “Um, is it just me or is the shard a little bit bigger than it was before,” Cassian spoke as Azriel held it in his hand. The shard was indeed bigger. Instead of it being the size of a palm, it was now the size of someone’s entire hand.

“We’ve got to show this to Nuala and Cerridwen. They can tell us why the shard grew and how we can-” A clank sound was heard from upstairs. It was faint but the boys heard it. Childish laughter followed the noise along with audible taunting. “Cass, where did you put the cookies?” Rhysand asked randomly at his brother. “On the top shelf. It’s not like they can reach it.” Cassian said when another clank sound was heard. This time a little louder. “We should probably check on them.”

“Yep.”

“Totally.”

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

A Few Very Compelling Arguments - Frank Iero x Reader

Summary: You are new in the band and Frank can’t seem to stand you. After getting hurt by him on stage you decide to quit the band, something Frank is not at all happy about. Reader: fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of mental illness, hints at suicide(?), blood, jealousy, Frank is an asshole in the first half Word Count: 7 702 (don’t ask me what happened there, I don’t know either) A/N: I’ve wanted to write some enemies to lovers with Frank since I read this story by @ghoulgirlwrites​ a few weeks back. I hope it’s not too similar. Anyways this story sent me on a total enemies to lovers thing, and now you guys have to live with that. Also I take no criticism for writing Frank this vulnerably. We all know he’s sensible, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be afraid to be vulnerable in the presence of the people he loves and trusts.

You weren‘t sure when things had started to change, but you knew you didn’t like it. You had not been in My Chemical Romance for long, a little less than a year. You were a friend of Ray’s, all the way back from his time in college, even though you were several years younger than him. After he had asked you to join the band on tour as their drummer one thing had led to another, and suddenly you had become the fifth member of the band. Then things had been fine, as fine as things could be when you were stuck in a van a majority of the day with a bunch of guys who had yet to discover the concept of taking showers. It was only at the start of this tour, right after the release of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge that Frank had started to change. He had always been very sweet to you before then, polite, friendly. Sure he was somewhat energetic on stage, but off stage he had been nothing but a sweetheart, something that definitely had gotten more to you than it should have.

It started off slow, the poking, the pranks, the nicknames. You knew he loved sneaking bites of other people’s food, or just put on whatever shirt he found on top of the clean laundry basket, no matter who it belonged to. You would not have minded this at all, if it had not always been your plate he stole fries from, or your favourite band shirt he picked to wear on stage.

That had been the beginning of it all. He had stopped after you had gotten pissed at him for staining your only white shirt with coffee one morning, and almost you had allowed yourself to believed things would calm down again. Sure you were angry that he had ruined your shirt, which he had had no reason for wearing other than being too lazy to search for his own. And that he had bought you a new package of your favourite cookies after having finished the last one without telling you had almost soothed the waves of your grudge against his impulsiveness.

But then he began throwing shit at your drums. At first just empty water bottles, which were really harmless. You even laughed at that, feeling like he was trying to include you more on stage. The roll of gaffer tape he had thrown was not quite as funny, nor was the full water bottle, Mikey’s shoe, and his mic stand; especially because the last one had ruined one of your drums, leaving you to improvise for the rest of the show.

You had been righteously furious after that.

That had been the evening you had realised something between Frank and you had truly changed. When you had talked to him about stealing your food and clothes, he had nodded and apologized for overstepping. That night, he had shrugged you off, saying he’d pay for it and there was no reason to react as upset as you did. This comment got him not only protest from you, but also from Ray, who had had the misfortune of overhearing that conversation.

Since then things had completely gotten out of control.

Frank snapped at you every opportunity he had, watched you like a hawk as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake he could get you for. He did not necessarily insult you. He just made it abundantly clear that he considered you unfit for the job of MCR’s drummer.

You knew they had not meant for you to overhead that snippet of conversation, but one time you had even heard Frank complain to Gerard about you, how you distracted everyone, how you would make it impossible to enjoy this tour for everyone.

You had quickly plucked in your headphones in order to not overhear more than that, but these few words had been enough to drive you towards the brink of a crisis. Wasn’t it bad enough that you had to share the very limited tour bus space with someone who actively seemed to hate you? He also tried to involve others in this strange feud he had started and was scheming against you!

After that incident you did not try to hide your annoyance at him anymore. If he already had to tell Gerard, Gerard might as well see for himself. Maybe that would speed up the inevitable process of them kicking you out of the band. Nobody had brought it up to your face yet, but you were sure Frank had suggested it to the others already. You didn’t want to leave the band, but with the way Frank was treating you, it was not hard to guess that this was his goal, to get you kicked out of the band.

Whatever you had done to make him hate you this much, it was something nobody was willing to talk to you about. Had you said or done something wrong? Was it your behaviour towards your band members? You were sure you had treated them just like any other friends, and of course you were closest to Ray, since you knew him the longest. But even though you were not aware of anything that could have upset Frank this much, especially since the others seemed to have no problem with you whatsoever, you would still have been willing to make up for it. If you only knew what the problem was!

You had tried talking to Frank, who had always brushed you off with a mean comment about you not caring anyway. And if you tried talking to the others, they always said it was not their place to tell you, and you needed to talk to Frank. At your response that you had tried, but he wouldn't tell you anything, they had just shrugged, and told you they couldn’t help you.

And this was how tour had started. For two months Frank and you had done nothing but glaring at each other. He shot hurtful comments your way, and whenever you were too tired or annoyed to hold back, you returned them. The tension this created was undeniable, but to your surprise the others just laughed it off, even having fun watching Frank and you bicker.

The worst thing of all though was probably how much ever single comment from Frank hurt. Not because of the comment itself, but because of him. You had not known him for very long, but you spent enough time together to have gotten to know him quite well. You saw the way he treated his friends, caring, loving, mischievous of course, yes, but never leaving a sliver of doubt that all his actions towards them were laced with nothing but deep, honest love for them.

A part of you hated yourself for loving watching him play music, no matter whether he was writing it, rehearsing or playing shows. At shows he was as energetic as you had never seen anyone in their life before, writhing around on stage, singing, screaming, and still flawlessly playing his guitar. He threw stuff at you occasionally, but this tour it did not seem quite as bad as the previous one.

During rehearsals he was absolutely focused, only rarely loosing himself in the music as much as he did on stage. But your favourite times to watch him were when he was writing music. Most often it was during long bus rides, when Gerard and Mikey would read comics, and you one of the novels off your ‘to be read’-pile. Ray and Frank would grab their guitars, and sit down, playing the same melodies in variations for hours upon hours until they had found something they both were content with. Then you would take glances over the rim of your book, just watching Frank, as he was sitting on one of the sofas, his fingers skipping over the fret board, his eyes closed. He was so focused then, and still half lost in the melody, in the music he and Ray were creating. Those moments were so soft, so intimate. It felt forbidden to watch him then, and still you could not tear your eyes away. You just hoped he would never find out about it.

He, on the other hand, was unashamed whenever he stared at you. It was during meals, when you sat on opposite ends of the table, as many of your friends between you as possible to stop you from getting into another heated argument. He would watch you closely then, his eyes following your every movement, never caring if you were staring back at him challengingly.

It was worse on stage. Moments in which he should have payed attention to Ray or Gerard, he glanced at you, even when there was no need to. Of course there were the few parts of the show where the two of you needed to work together, coordinate with each other, and those were never a problem, because as much as you hated him, you were still professional enough to not let it show. But the moments where he made sure you were looking at him right before doing something stupid-

It drove you up the walls, the constant feeling of his eyes on you, until you would eventually give in and meet his across the stage.

This night was no different. Or well, maybe it was. It was more of Frank’s snarky, hurtful comments before the show, more than usual. More of relentlessly watching you during it.

You knew Frank was not in the best space of mind recently. Just like the Way brothers he struggled with mental health, and just because you could not stand seeing his pretty face around you, and felt like getting sick the moment you thought about him because of your contrasting feelings for him, you still were observant. Maybe it was about keeping the team together, you wondered, as you felt sweat running down your face, your arms, your back. In order to keep doing the shows everyone needed to be in top shape, and whenever someone wasn’t, the others did their best to take care of them.

It was difficult with Frank though. He would insist to be left alone, and wouldn't come out of his bunk for anything other than a small breakfast in the morning, a toilet break or playing shows. It had been like this for the past three days, and slowly but surely you began worrying about him.

He looked pale underneath his make-up, dark circles under his eyes which he covered up with red eyeshadow. If he hadn’t screamed at you that one time you had tried to ask if there was something you could do for him, you might have tried to get him to open up a little. You hated to see him suffer just as much as you hated him. But then again, maybe you didn’t hate him quite as much as you always made yourself believe.

The thought was unsettling, and at the realisation you almost would have lost the rhythm you were still playing. You definitely had crushed on Frank before things had gotten weird. And you knew you cared about him, even if you did not want to admit it to yourself. So was the idea that you did not hate him at all so far off?

Just in that moment you felt his eyes on you. Not to coordinate the music, but staring at you. For a moment you tried to resist looking back at him, but it was impossible.

He was close to your drums, black crosses over his eyes, the red eyeshadow masking how sunken in his face was. As if he hadn’t eaten and slept for days. You had a feeling he really hadn’t.

For a moment he was holding your gaze, and then, with three big steps, he strode over to Gerard, who was prancing around on stage as always. It happened so fast you were not even sure what you had seen, when Frank let go of his guitar, and grabbed Gerard’s face while he was still in the middle of singing, only to kiss his passionately.

You could tell Gerard was surprised, suddenly having been cut off by a kiss from one of his guitarists, but he reacted smoothly, wrapping his arm around Frank’s neck and kissing back for a short moment, before he pushed Frank off, and continuing to sing as if nothing had happened.

Quickly you averted your gaze, feeling like you had witnessed something you were not supposed to. Of course you knew of the rumours that Frank and Gerard were dating. It was nothing more than that, a rumour, as far as you knew, but maybe you did not know everything.

It was clear Frank had wanted you to see that kiss. Was this maybe the reason he hated you so much? Because you and Gerard had become close friends, and he thought you were trying to steal Gerard away from him? Nothing could have been further from the truth. You liked Gerard, but only as a friend. You were far too confused about your feelings for Frank to even think about liking anyone else.

Still, you felt like that kiss had meant to show you who Gerard belonged with. But what did you care? Frank could have Gerard all for himself, if this was what his weird behaviour was about. It just stung a little too much, the idea that Frank had never seen you as anything but a rival for Gerard’s affection. Secretly you had wanted his glances and stares to mean more than pure hatred.

That’s how the rest of the show went by. You tried focusing on your drumming, but were continuously distracted by thoughts about Frank, about how maybe you had liked him the whole time, more than liked even. About how he seemed to hate you because you were close to Gerard. About how unreasonably disappointed you were that he had probably never had any positive feelings for you at all.

You were glad when the encore finally was over. Your head hurt from all the intrusive thoughts, the picture of Frank kissing Gerard had burnt itself deeper into your mind than you wanted to admit, you were bathed in sweat and your whole body was aching. You had been so tense during the set that you would probably have a whole body muscle ache tomorrow.

You slammed your sticks down on the drums for the last few times that night, letting the applause of the audience wash over you as the last chords of the nights echoed back from the venue’s walls. Gerard was waving at crowd, Mikey already on his way off stage, and Ray threw the left over picks into the audience. You were about to do the same with your drum sticks, when your eyes involuntarily found Frank. He was standing not too far off from your drums, but instead of having turned to the crowd, he had turned to you.

Too late did you notice the motion he had executed with his right hand, too late did you see the blinking thing he had thrown through the air right at you. If you had not been mid motion of throwing your sticks into the audience, you could have evaded whatever he had launched at you, but now you were to slow, the metallic object hitting the side of your forehead hard, and you could not suppress the pained gasp.

Surprised you clasped your hand over the part where you had been hit, immediately searching for what had hit you. It was Frank’s capo. It had clattered to the ground after having it you. Annoyed you picked it up, and threw it back at Frank, not noticing the guilty and apologetic expression he was wearing. The capo hit him mid-chest, and surprised he caught it, as you stared daggers at him from behind your drums. Quickly, as quickly as you could, you climbed out from behind them, and headed off stage.

“Oh, (y/n), you’re bleeding,” Mikey noticed as you tried storming past him to get to the backstage room as quickly as possible.

You were done with tonight. Not only because of all these thoughts that had plagued you, or Frank kissing Gerard. No, this was the first time Frank had actually injured you, and that was the last drop. You couldn’t do this anymore. Frank had made it so very clear he didn’t want you in the band, he could finally have what he wanted. Tomorrow morning you would tell Gerard you quit. Tomorrow, not today, so nobody could say you were being too emotional about it. If they asked you really, really nicely, and promised to keep Frank in check, you would finish this tour with them until they had a new drummer to replace you. But you wanted out. Now.

A warm hand around your wrist dragged you out of your thoughts, and Mikey was looking down on you worriedly.

“What happened there,” he asked, gesturing to your head.

“What,” you asked, bringing your hand up to where Frank had hit you with the capo. When you pulled your hand away, your fingers were coated in blood. “Oh shit.”

Quickly you looked around, trying to find a mirror, but the closest one was probably down the hallway in the bathrooms.

“Is it bad,” you asked.

Mikey leant in closer, taking a good look.

“Nope, don’t think so. Small cut, about this long.” He held his hand out, showing you with his index finger and thumb how long the cut was. Not more than three milimeters.

It seemed there had been a sharp edge on the capo.

“Shit, (y/n), I’m so sorry-”

The voice belonged to no other than Frank, who had followed you off stage. When you spun around to face him, and he saw the thin line of blood running down the side of your face, his eyes grew wide.

“Oh fuck-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, asshole,” you hissed at him, feeling your blood boil at the sight of him. Had you really thought you liked him? What the hell had been wrong with you? “This was the last time, the last time you threw anything at me, you understand?”

“I didn’t mean to hit you, I was aiming for the- it’s not gonna happen again, I promise,” Frank rushed out. Something about him now was so very different than you remembered him from the past months. He looked genuinely sorry and concerned. But you couldn’t be bothered, not anymore.

“No it’s not, because I won’t be on stage with you anymore for you to throw shit at me!”

You had not meant to say that, but it felt good, to see the shock on Frank’s face, to feel Mikey’s surprise.

“(y/n), you’re not-”

“Yes, I am Mikey! I am quitting! So you-” you pocked your finger into Frank’s direction, “are finally getting what you’ve wanted all this time. Happy now?”

And with that you stormed off.

You did not bother to go to the backstage room, as you had planned, and you did not wait as you heard both Frank and Mikey calling for you to wait. You headed straight out of the backdoor, past the tour bus that was supposed to drop everyone off at the hotel. You could not wait long enough for everyone to make it there, and you could not face Frank.

By now him and Mikey had probably found Gerard and Ray, and told them what had happened; that you had quit.

Shit. That was exactly what you had wanted to avoid, coming across as impulsive and emotional. Frank was supposed to be the impulsive and emotional one, not you. But fuck, you were emotional! There was still blood running down the side of your face, and the headache you had already felt before increased its intensity with every minute. You needed to get away from here, as fast as possible.

Not caring about security or fans being able to see you, you hasted towards the street, already seeing multiple cabs lined up, waiting to find concert goers who were ready to pay for a ride home. Climbing into the first cab in the line, you named the address of the hotel the band had booked rooms at. In the hotel the staff gave you concerned looks, considering how you looked, and even offered to call a doctor, but you insisted you would be fine with a plaster and the keys to one of the booked rooms.

Just as always during hotel nights, it was a double room. A queen sized bed took up the majority of the room, leaving little space for anything but a narrow wardrobe and two bedside tables. You wondered who they would pair up with you tonight. Probably not Gerard, Frank would insist they share a room. Maybe Mikey then, or Ray. You hoped it was Ray. He still knew you the best, and would understand why you could not stay in the band any longer.

Only once you entered the bathroom, you realised you had basically left everything but your wallet at the tour bus, your whole overnight bag with shampoo, towels and pyjama. Luckily the hotel had a shampoo dispenser, towels and some bathrobes prepared for their guests, so you quickly grabbed one, and locked the bathroom door behind you.

The first thing you did was inspect the cut on your forehead. It really was tiny, but the amount of blood had made it look way worse than it was. Now the bleeding had stopped, and the blood dried. Carefully you washed it off, and in the end there was hardly anything to see but a small scratch.

While you were in the shower, rinsing off the sweat of the show, you heard someone entering the hotel room. Over the rushing of water it was impossible to tell who it was, but you definitely heard the door to the room open and then close.

After that you tried to hurry. It wouldn't have been fair to Ray to make him wait too long for his shower. He probably hadn’t taken one at the venue yet. Drying yourself off, you threw on the bathrobe, hoping Ray had either brought your night bag.

“Hey Ray,” you called, as you unlocked the door, your dirty clothes thrown over your arm, and stepped into the room, “you didn’t happen to bring my-”

You froze as you saw that it was not Ray who was sitting on the bed, waiting for you to finish in the bathroom.

It was Frank. He seemed to have washed off the make-up at the venue, because only faint traces of colour stuck to his face now.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he got up. “The others said we should pair up.”

For a long moment you stared at him. You wanted to say something along the lines of never sharing a bed with him, but you knew that he would then insist of sleeping on the floor, and another part of you, the one that had come up with the stupid idea of you maybe liking him, would never have allowed that.

“I packed your bag,” Frank added, nodding to the bag he had placed on the window side of the bed. How had he known you preferred the window side? Or was it just a coincidence?

You nodded, not bothering with an answer.

“Can I- is the bathroom free,” Frank asked carefully. You knew he was watching you, but you refused to look at him, just nodded.

As you were going through your night bag, trying to find a shirt and a pair of shorts, you heard as Frank grabbed his own bag, and headed for the bathroom.

“What you said about leaving the band-”

You guessed he had stopped in the door, but you didn’t turn around.

“I don’t want you to leave. Never wanted that. Can you- I don’t know, can you think about it again? I know we all would-”

“Luckily I don’t care about what you – or the others – want. Not anymore anyway,” you hissed at him, and for the first time that night you felt your throat close up as tears burnt in your eyes.

There was shuffling behind you, and almost you would have expected Frank to say more on the matter but then the bathroom door closed.

Wiping away the tears with the back of your hand, you began looking through your bag again. The idea that Frank had been the one to have packed it, that he had gone through your stuff, made you feel uncomfortable, but at the same time tucked at your heart.

There was a pair of shorts, but the only t-shirt you found was not your own. In fact you were pretty certain it was one of Frank’s. Maybe he had packed it by accident. What other explanation could be there for it? In the end it did not matter though. Shirt was shirt, whether it was his or yours, so you threw it on, and tied the bathrobe closed over it, so Frank wouldn't give you shit for wearing one of his shirts.

In the bathroom the water was still running when you went to bed, cuddled underneath one  of the thick blankets. You were grateful there were separate blankets. The idea to share one with Frank was sickening. Speaking of sickening, you still had that headache. While you had been in the shower, it had gotten better, but now it came back worse than before.

After a while you decided you were not going to be the hero who suffered through it, and got up again. Somewhere in your bag you still had some painkillers…

Once more going through your bag, you subconsciously registered that in the bathroom the water had stopped running, and instead suspicious silence spread out from behind the door. No ruffling of towels, no clicking of shampoo bottle lids, not padding of naked feet on tiled floor.

Holding your movement, you listened. Only silence.

With a shrug you grabbed one of the painkillers from the small bottle, and downed it together with the contents of a small water bottle you had kept in your bag. Definitely needed to replace that one tomorrow with a full one, you mentally noted.

That was when you heard it.

Again you halted, not sure if you had imagined the sound, but a second later it was clearer than before. That was definitely someone crying, sobbing even. Quietly, trying to muffle the sound, but the nightly environment was too quiet to hide it. And it came from the bathroom.

Before you even had thought about it, you were banging against the door. You had heard about how badly Gerard had been, you’d be damned if My Chem lost one of their guitarists just because you couldn’t be bothered to try to talk to him. The idea of Frank doing something really stupid to himself wasn’t farfetched, considering the state he had been over the past days.

“Frank? Frank! What’s going on in there? Open the door!”

Again you banged at it, before listening for a response, but all you got was another sob.

“Frank! Are you okay? Let me in!”

Nothing but more sobs.

Your heart was racing in your throat, and your knees weak. You were probably the last person Frank would really talk to, but you didn’t dare leave the room to get help from the others. So instead you pressed down the door handle experimentally, and like a miracle it swung open.

“I don’t care if you’re naked, I’m coming in,” you warned before you pushed the door fully open and stepped inside.

The air of the bathroom was wet and smelled of Frank’s shower gel. The man himself was sitting in front of the sink, back leant against the wall, and luckily dressed in some shorts and an oversized t-shirt. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried between them, hands and arms pulled over his head as if to protect himself from the outside world.

As quickly as you could you ran over to him, and fell to your knees besides him.

“Frank,” you asked worriedly, carefully trying to pry away one of his arms. “Frank, are you hurt?”

Another sob, muffled between his knees, escaped him, before he unwrapped himself, and instead leant his head against your shoulder, burying his face in the fabric of the bathrobe. Instinctively you brought your arms around him, and wrapped him in an awkward hug.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he cried. The air he exhaled was hot, traveling through the layers of fabric until it brushed over your skin. “I know it’s my fault, and it’s all on me, but I don’t know how to fix this. I tried to fix it. But I’ve just made it so much worse. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to lose you.”

Confused you blinked, trying to understand what he was talking about.

“Well, you’re not gonna stop me from leaving,” you told him, fully aware that this was probably exactly the wrong thing to say. But lying to him wouldn’t help him either.

You felt a shiver go through him, and he sobbed again, probably smearing snot all over your bathrobe. Well, not really yours, the hotels. So this should be the least of your worries right now.

“I know. I’m not trying to stop you. I know I fucked up. I tried to fix it, tried to make it work so hard, and all I did was fuck it up. I’m so sorry for ruining this for you,” he whimpered between heavy breaths.

“At which point did you try to fix shit, Frank, hm? When you told Gerard I was a distraction, or when you kept calling me weird names even though you knew I didn’t like it? Or when you kept staring at me as if I’d grow a second head any second? When have you ever tried fixing things? Do you think throwing shit at me would make anything any better? Fuck, Frank, you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend you didn’t hate me as much as you do, just to make it less weird for the others! You didn’t try fixing shit!”

Frank nodded, his hands gripping into the bathrobe, still hiding his face. You could feel how warm his body was, from showering, from crying- he was like a furnace. His shower-wet hair stuck to his head.

“And you can’t expect me to take it any longer, you know? All I’ve been getting from you for months were off handed comments that made me feel like shit, and stuff thrown at me on stage! Fuck, you threw a capo at my head, Frank!”

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” he cried.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you did!”

You couldn’t help but wonder what a strange position you found yourselves in. You were shouting at him while he had buried his face in your shoulder, and was crying his eyes out, all while you soothingly rubbed circles into his back.

After a moment of silence, Frank took a shuddering breath.

“I never hated you,” he mumbled, his voice shaky but clear, as if he was putting lots of thought and effort into every word. “I know it seemed that way, but I never did. The opposite really. When you leave that’s the only thing I need you to know: That I’ve always admired you, and that I wish I could’ve done things right, so we could’ve played with this band ‘till the day we die.”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be,” you answered softly, patting his head, making him sob again.

“I just wish I could go back in time and do it right, you know. Do it right from the very first moment on. Just be honest with you, and hope things work out from there.”

“You could still be honest now,” you offered.

Curiosity was eating away at you. Could you finally find out why Frank had treated you the way he had? Why he had never let you get close, why he had not left his bunk in the past days?

“It wouldn’t make a difference anymore,” Frank mumbled, but he seemed calmer now, as if the idea of telling the truth might offer some relief.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you suggested, running your hand through his wet locks. They were soft like silk. When he did not speak for a moment, you added: “What’s going on these past days? You barely got out of bed.”

“Wasn’t feeling good,” Frank mumbled. You could feel him slightly lean into your touch as you ran your nails over his scalp, so you continued the simple action.

“I thought so much. What wasn’t feeling good exactly?”

“Think I knew this was coming to an end,” he admitted. “That I’ve gone too far, and you’d want to leave, and that nothing I could do would stop you, and that everything I had tried to keep you to stay up until that point had only driven you away.”

You hummed, signalling him you had heard, waiting if he wanted to say more, but when he didn’t, you asked another question.

“What was that thing about kissing Gerard earlier at the show? You know… if you like him you don’t gotta worry about me, okay? Gee ‘n I are friends, nothing more.”

“I know.”

“Then why that kiss? It felt like… you wanted to demonstrate that Gerard belonged with you…”

“Didn’t,” Frank answered quietly. “Wanted to make you jealous.”

“Why would you want to make me jealous of you?”

“Not me. Gee.”

You blinked. “Gerard? Why would I be jealous of Gerard?”

Frank tensed underneath your hands, but did not answer. If he wanted you to be jealous of Gerard, could it be that- no. No possible way.

You filed that piece of information away with all the other puzzle pieces that did not fit the picture, and continued asking your questions. It seemed, for the first time since you had met Frank that he was willing to open up to you, at least to a certain degree. You had to make use of that opportunity.

“In the beginning – the first few weeks – we were fine, remember? What changed?”

Frank shook his head against your shoulder, making you raise your eyebrows.

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t wanna say,” Frank corrected.

“I thought you wanted to be honest,” you answered, knowing you were poking around in affairs that probably were none of your business, but he had made you suffer for months. You felt like you finally deserved some answers.

“Emotions are complicated,” Frank replied cryptically.

“What emotions?”

For a moment he thought about his answer, then he spoke slowly. “I wanted you to notice me, wanted you to know that I felt comfortable around you, like when I stole your food and your clothes. And when it got obvious you didn’t feel the same… I got frustrated. And jealous. Because you always hang out with Gee ‘nd Ray ‘nd Mikey- and I started doing dumb shit, and – it was easier to drive you away than to admit that I wanted actually the complete opposite of that. Because when I’m honest, I’m vulnerable, and I don’t wanna be hurt.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Frank,” you whispered, not entirely sure what to make of the things he had just told you. He had wanted you to notice him? He sure had managed that. Why would he have been jealous though?

“What hurts me and what doesn’t isn’t in your power to decide,” Frank mumbled, his words muffled against the bathrobe you wore.

“Frank-” trying to pull him slightly away from you to look at his face, you placed your hands on his shoulders, but he only stiffened under your touch, his hands clawing tighter into your clothes. “Frank, I feel like I still don’t really understand what is going on, what has been going on the whole time. You say you’re jealous, and you don’t really hate me- but it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me either. What is it, you feel? Can you try putting it into words?”

Frank shook his head against your shoulder again.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“’m scared.”

“Of what?”

For a moment he was quiet, before he suddenly sat up with a jolt. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips red-rimmed, and his whole face swollen and flaky from crying. He looked truly pitiful. You wanted to wrap him in your arms again and promise him everything would be alright. It would have been a lie. He had said he didn’t want you to leave the band but your mind was made up. But maybe a white lie, just to make him feel better…

You were still thinking about how much you wanted to help him, when Frank suddenly leant forward, and without warning pressed his lips to yours. They were hot and tasted of his salty tears. Slightly startled you almost lost your balance from the force with which Frank had come at you. Searching for something to hold onto, and desperate not to let go of him, you quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

At first it was just the surprise of the sudden kiss that made you dizzy, but when Frank opened his mouth, and licked against your lips, you felt like you could faint any moment. Everything around you was spinning; the only solid thing was Frank, as he took over the kiss, and kissed you harder than anyone had ever done before.

You could feel his pulse hammer underneath your hands, could feel his breath fan over your skin, could taste the desperation with which he kissed you. It was both sweet and hungry, the way he pressed closer to you needy and hopeful, as he twisted you so your back was pressed to the cold, tiled wall of the bathroom, with him pinning you against it, as good as your sitting positions allowed him too.

It was only when you seemed to have worked through the first rush of surprise that Frank suddenly pulled away. Confused at the loss of contact you blinked your eyes open, finding his lips were cherry red, and his eyes glowing. It made you want to lurch forward and kiss him again. But before you could, it seemed like dark clouded his face, and the glimmer in his eyes disappeared, the glow he had seemed to emit darkened.

“This is what I’ve wanted the whole time,” he sat back, bringing more distance between you. Agonizing, cold, painful distance. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you without-”

You cut him off then and there. You didn’t care. Yes, consent was important, but now that you knew he wanted to kiss you, you saw no reason as to why you should stop yourself from doing so.

He gasped when your lips met his again, just as desperate as he had been moments ago, but he kissed back hungrily, and placed his warm hands on your waist as you climbed into his lap. He held you close and steady, as you got lost in his touch. An hour ago you could never have imagined thinking this, but he radiated safety. The way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way his breath brushed over your skin in little gasps, the hammering of your heart at the quiet moans that escaped him. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, everything else around you forgotten, only you and Frank. Who cared about hotel bathrooms and touring and bands and music? Not you, not while you were kissing Frank like you had dreamt of since the first proper conversation you had had with him. The voice, that had tried to remind you of this little fantasy while the rest of you had convinced you that you hated Frank, seemed to dance a little dance of joy in your heart, as you wrapped your hands into Frank’s hair, and pulled him closer and closer.

Only when you were completely out of breath, you eventually pulled away, leaning your forehead to Frank’s shoulder. He used the opportunity to push the collar of the bathrobe away a bit, and placed butterfly kisses on your neck until you were giggling.

“I know I can’t make you stay,” Frank suddenly said, lifting his head. You did too, looking down on him from where you sat in his lap. “I know that if you truly want to leave the band, nothing and nobody can stop you. But when you do… do you think you could stay at least with me? I don’t want to lose you.”

Confused you furrowed your brows at him, tilting your head to ask what he meant.

“Do you think you could give me – us – a second chance. I love you, (y/n), I love your passion and how you never take shit from anyone, how patient you are, how caring, and you’re the most beautiful person I could ever imagine. I love you so fucking much, and I know I probably ruined any chance, but if I haven’t-”

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him.

Frank eyes widened hopefully, and he watched you very closely as he continued. “So if I asked you to be mine- will you be mine?”

“As much as you’ll be mine,” you answered, your heart beating a thousand miles an hour, as Frank laughed in disbelief.

“My heart’s been yours from the first moment on,” he breathed, before pressing his lips to yours again.

But instead of losing yourself in his kiss, you pulled away again.

“Ask me the other thing,” you demanded, making him look at you confused.

“The other-” he stopped, realisation hitting him like a freight train, and he barely managed to get the words out quickly enough. “Please stay in the band, please I beg you. Will you stay in the band?”

You smiled softly, and brushed his hair out of his eyes, before slowly getting up from his lap. Offering him a hand you helped him up. Immediately he placed his hands back at your waist, his eyes searching for an answer to his question in yours.

“Let’s go to bed,” you whispered, “We have a long tour ahead of us, and I don’t wanna miss out on a proper bed.”

“Is that a-”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll stay in the band. If you stop throwing shit at me on stage.”

Gently you pushed Frank down on the bed, and quickly he scrambled to get under the blanket before he opened his arms for you to crawl into. You followed his invitation without hesitation.

“I promise I’ll only throw myself at you from now on,” he whispered, and you could hear the sly grin in his voice, but when you placed your head on his chest, his heart was racing. He was not at all feeling as cool about the situation as he pretended. It made you grin, and you found yourself liking him even more than before.

“Approved, but only under the condition that you take the guitar off before.”

“That can be arranged,” Frank nodded, playing around with the hem of the bathrobe you were still wearing. “Hey, is that one of my shirts?”

Quickly you sat up again, and brushed the bathrobe off, revealing the shirt you had found in your bag, and put on.

“You packed that one for me,” you accused, but when you glanced at Frank, you found he looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

“You look so good in my clothes,” he whispered, pulling you back down to his chest, and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

His arms were tightly wrapped around you, and while he told you more about how he had felt in the months in which you had been fighting, how heartbroken he had been, how helpless, and how much he had loved you the whole time, you listened to his steady heartbeat until you had fallen asleep.

-

“Of course she was serious, when she said she wanted to leave,” Ray shook his head, pouring milk into his cereal. “Frank’s been harassing her for months. I’m surprised she didn’t quit sooner.”

“I always thought it was all in good fun between them,” Gerard sighed, sipping from his coffee. “I thought they were goofing around, not actually fighting. I mean, he’s so fucking hard in love with her...”

“Well, yesterday evening they were actually fighting,” Mikey mumbled. “Kept me up ‘till two before they finally shut up.”

“Do you think they killed each other?”

“If yes, we’re in real trouble finding not one, but two new band members,” Mikey sighed.

“I’m not offering my friends again,” Ray quickly defended. “She’s probably already mad that I didn’t shut Frank down more often. I don’t wanna loose more friends.”

“Do we even know anyone who plays drums and would join us?”

“You won’t need a new drummer, if you’ll still have me.”

Your voice made the three look up from their breakfast table, their eyes widening as they saw Frank and you standing next to them. It looked weird seeing the two of you standing so close next to each other without fuming from the mouths. Like an alternative reality, or real life Photoshop.

“Does that mean you’ll stay,” Ray asked, hopeful, his eyes quickly flickering to where Frank’s and your pinkies were linked between you.

“Frank and I talked tonight,” you answered and pulled out a chair, sitting down next to Ray. Frank took the chair on your other side, throwing his arm around your shoulder, and leant over, gently nudging his nose against your jaw before he placed a kiss there. “He had a few very compelling arguments for me to stay.”

Taglist:

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore  @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @deadlovers @casmustdiee​ @cmtryghoul​

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Oblivious Pain

MAIN MASTERLIST

RDJ!Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,910ish

Summary: You’re keeping a secret from your flatmate, Sherlock Holmes. It honestly is embarrassing that he hasn’t figured it out sooner.

Notes: I hope that this isn’t total trash, sorry if it is…. This is kind of based off of my own chronic illnesses. This has nothing do to with my RDJ!Sherlock Holmes series In The Game of Love. If you haven’t read it yet, it can be found on my masterlist link above. (This was also not edited… so sorry for any of the mistakes…)

Your flatmate was a very brilliant man. His brilliance was half of why you were in love with him. And yet, he could be so oblivious. Sherlock Holmes was oblivious about two things: your love for him and your health.

You often joined the detective on his cases, more than not having to run away and fight off the people he was chasing. So it was surprising to you that Sherlock hadn’t noticed when you were in pain. Admittedly, you had become very good at hiding it after living with this pain for year, but still. Sherlock Holmes was known to know every detail of a person’s life just by a mere glance in their direction. Yet he couldn’t tell that you were limping from the pain or that, upon returning back to the flat from a day of work, you went straight to bed. It continued to shock you that he couldn’t hear you get dressed or undressed on your bad days, it being so painful.

“Wake up!” Sherlock shouted as he burst into your room. “We must get going.” You groaned, both in annoyance and pain. “We have a long day ahead of us today.” 

You sighed as Sherlock waltzed out of your room and back into his. You stayed laying down as you took a silent inventory on where the pain was located today in your body. 

“Shoulders, lower back, and ankles,” you whispered to yourself.

“What was that?” Sherlock peered into your room. “Why are you not up yet, woman?”

“Since you decided to play your violin at all hours last night, I did not get rest.”

“Oh,” for a moment there you thought that he might actually apologize, “well, get up. I expect you by the door in ten.” Then he disappeared again.

You bit down on your bottom lip and closed your eyes and you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You took a deep breath as you moved over to the edge of your bed. Your head was hanging low as Mrs. Hudson came in with a tray of fresh tea. She shut your door as she entered.

“You should not join him today,” Mrs. Hudson said. She set the tray down on your desk before heading to your wardrobe. “You clearly are unwell.”

“You know Sherlock, he will not take no for an answer.”

“Y/N,” she sighed as she pulled a dress out for you and came over to you. “If you would just be honest with you, he listens to you. Shockingly. He also clearly cares.”

“I am fine, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you for the tea and picking my dress for the day.”

“Do you need anymore help getting ready?”

“I am good. Thank you.”

Mrs. Hudson didn’t look convinced but left your room anyway. You took another deep breath before standing up and slowly going over to your desk and pouring yourself a cup of tea. Bringing up to your nose, you took a deep inhale before taking a sip. Mrs. Hudson clearly knew that it was going to be a rough day because the tea she had thrown together had the herbs you would usually use for pain. That woman may not like Sherlock very much, but she was sure going to take care of you.

You pushed through the pain, actually making it worse, in order to be dressed on time for Sherlock. He was by the front door already when you headed down the stairs. 

“Good, you’re ready,” he commented, opening the front door. “Let us go.”

~~~

The day was exhausting. Sherlock was never one to slow down and that was catching up with you. By the time that you two arrived back at the flat, it was close to midnight and everything in your body was on fire. You were sure that Sherlock was saying something but you couldn’t focus on his voice as you used the railing to pull yourself up the stairs. You flinched as a large, rough hand found your lower back. You turned to see Sherlock studying you.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asked.

Your heart swooned at the nickname. “I’m fine,” you said quietly.

“Alright. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sherlock.”

You slipped into your room and failed to make it to your bed. Instead, you collapsed on the floor. You didn’t have the energy to call for help or anything, so you stayed on the floor, quickly falling asleep.

~~~

The morning came with light slowly trickling into your window, waking you. You groaned as you realized that, one, you were still on the ground and, two, you were in a lot more pain than you were in the day before. It took you about fifteen minutes before you peeled yourself off the floor and began to clean yourself up. About an hour later, you found yourself down in the kitchen, searching for some tea.

“Mrs. Hudson!” You called as you searched the shelves. “Mrs. Hudson, where did you put the herbs for the tea?”

“The nanny is out today,” Sherlock said, coming into the room. 

You winced slightly, surprised at his entrance. “Great,” you mumbled. 

You closed your eyes as you tried to not to get emotional. Sherlock’s eyes grew concerned as he studied you. Something was wrong, he just couldn’t put a finger on what. You let out a deep breath as you opened up your eyes and took a few trembling steps toward the stairs. Sherlock hurried over to your side, setting a hand on your back. You flinched away while you bit down a whimper.

“Something’s not right,” he stated, his voice firm.

“I’m fine,” you tried to match his firmness but your voice betrayed you.

“Do lie to me, darling. It’s not a good look on you.”

“I’ll be fine, Sherlock.” You patted his chest lightly, immediately regretting it due to the pain. “I think that I’ll just go back upstairs and rest.”

You walked away, unsteadily so, under the careful watch of Sherlock. He watched as you used the railing to pull yourself up to the next step and the next. When you reached the landing, he went back into the kitchen to try and put together some tea for you. Sherlock was grabbing the kettle for water when he heard a crash. He rushed out to see that you had fallen down the last few steps and back onto the landing.

“Y/N!” Sherlock exclaimed. He rushed up to you, gently getting you into his arms. “Come on, darling.” You whimpered. “Focus on my voice. What hurts?” 

You just whimpered again as you were unable to focus or speak. He fixed his arms to be underneath you better and stood up with you in them. For someone who always could put together a plan, Sherlock didn’t know what to do. He could run through the streets with you in his arms in search for Watson, he could get you to bed then go out searching for Watson himself, or he could get you to bed then wait by your side until Mrs. Hudson came back. 

Looking down at you, Sherlock knew he couldn’t leave you. Running through the streets with you was also not a possibility due to the pain it would clearly cause you. So carefully, he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms and headed straight for your room. He set you down and gently ran his hand across your forehead to check your temperature. 

Sherlock straightened up as the front door opened and then closed.

“Holmes! Y/N!” John called. “I came for a visit. To see how—“

“Watson!” Sherlock rushed out to the stairs, panicked. “I don’t know—I can’t deduce what happened.”

“What are you talking about, Holmes?” 

“Y/N. She collapsed. I can’t get her to focus or respond.”

John ran up the stairs, following Sherlock into your room. The doctor when to work, quickly realizing that every movement that he was forcing you to make caused you to whimper or cry out.

“There’s bruises forming,” John noted.

“She fell down the stairs,” Sherlock quickly replied. “She was trembling and told me that she just needed rest. I turned my back and then she fell.”

“We should get her to the hospital. She needs to be properly examined and given medication.”

Sherlock’s heart clenched. He knew that he was never good with feelings and relationships, but the thought of something being seriously wrong with you worried him.

“Sherlock,” John called for the detective’s attention. The man glanced up at the doctor. “We’re going to figure this out.”

~~~

Thankfully, John had taken his own carriage to the Baker Street flat so it was easier to get you to the hospital. Sherlock did not let you go throughout the whole ride there. John watched curiously as his old friend showed more emotion and care than John had ever seen from the man before. Sherlock carried you into the hospital, John doing the talking to the worried nurses. 

Sherlock stayed by your side until a doctor came over and told Sherlock that he needed to leave so that they could do a check up. John was already tugging him away before Sherlock could fight. John led Sherlock into the waiting area. The two men sat down with a sigh. John reached over and took the paper from the table in front of him.

“Let’s see what’s going on out in the world, shall we?” John commented as he opened the paper. “Well it seems Scotland Yard still can’t do their job without you.” Silence. “She’s going to be fine, old—“ John stopped himself as he folded the paper to look at Sherlock. Except, Sherlock wasn’t there. “Great.”

~~~

You groaned as you slowly began to come to. Just by the smell, you knew that you were no longer at home. You went to try and find a more comfortable position, still keeping your eyes closed, when a pair of hands gently found your shoulders. 

“Don’t move,” a man’s voice with a clearly fake German accent said. “Your body needs to stay still.”

You blinked your eyes open, focusing on the man above you. He had grey hair and a large beard. He was dressed up like a doctor, but it was his large brown eyes that gave him away.

“Sherlock,” you rasped.

“You had me worried there, darling,” he whispered, sitting on your bedside you.

“What happened?”

“You fell down the stairs. Do you not remember?”

“Not really. I… I just remember a lot of pain.”

“Yes… it seems like you’ve been in pain for a while. You’ve been hiding it from me.”

“You were just oblivious to my pain, Sherlock. For someone so brilliant, you sure miss the obvious.”

“I do not.”

“You do.” Sherlock huffed. “How long am I here for?”

“Until the doctor’s find something to help you.”

You sighed, looking away from Sherlock. “They won’t find anything. People have already tried. I’m just stuck with living like this for the rest of my life.” Tears pricked your eyes as you closed them. “I… I understand if you no longer wish me to be your flatmate. This can be a lot and it will out get worse.”

“Stop that.” Sherlock’s hands came up to held your face. “You are staying at the flat.”

You opened your eyes to see how sincere he was being. It surprised you slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Positive, love.”

~~~

Sherlock’s arm would not leave your waist after he helped you up the front steps of your shared flat. The door opened before he could do it for you and Mrs. Hudson appeared.

“Y/N! I was so worried,” she said, coming in to hug you. “I am so glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” you replied as you hugged her back.

“Okay, that’s enough, nanny,” Sherlock scolded as he pushed her away from you.

“Sherlock,” you reprimanded. “It’s fine. It’s just a hug.”

“A hug that could cause you pain.”

“The medication the doctor’s gave me is working. I’m fine.”

Sherlock didn’t responded, but he didn’t care if you said you were fine. He was going to do his best to help you. Even if he was never good with emotions, his own or others, Sherlock was going to try for you.

“I will go put some tea on and bring it up to you,” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Thank you,” you replied as you continued inside. 

Sherlock kept his arm around you as he clenched his jaw tightly while helping you up the stairs. He was trying to resist the urge just to sweep you off your feet and carrying you up the stairs. He knew that you wouldn’t be alright with it and wanted to do what you could, even if it took all your energy. By the time you made it to the top of the staircase, you were tired and you were leaning more into Sherlock. He took on more of your weight with ease and hurried you into your room. He helped you onto the bed.

“I have a few things to do, but I will be around,” Sherlock said softly.

“The case,” you gasped. “You haven’t been able to solve the case because of me.”

“I solved the case while waiting for you to wake. It was the wife, clearly.”

“Clearly,” you chuckled, tiredly. “What do you need to do? Can I help with anything?”

Sherlock pressed out a smile. “You need to rest. That’s what you can help with.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Call for me if you need anything.”

~~~

Sherlock played his violin as you slept, thinking about how to handle his emotions towards you. He was also thinking about ways he could help ease your pain.

“Sherlock,” your whimper made him pause his playing. “Sherlock.” He set down his instrument and rushed out of his room. “Sherlock.” He entered your room to see you laying in bed, clearly in pain. “Sherlock.”

“I’m here, darling,” he whispered as he grabbed the medicine bottle and syringe from your side table.

“It hurts… it hurts…”

“Almost there, love. Almost there.” Sherlock gently took your arm and injected the contains of the syringe into it. You gasped as it filled you. “There you go.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, darling.” He pulled a chair up to the side of your bed. “I’ll be right here when you need something.”

~~~

It became routine for Sherlock to sleep in the chair besides your bed. Even as your body began to bounce back. As you began to feel better, you longed to do more than just stay around the flat. Sherlock was not allowing you to join him on cases, which he only started taking again at your insistence. 

It was now six weeks since your hospital stay, your doctors and John had approved you for more strenuous activities as the medication you were on was working.

“Come on, Sherlock, please,” you begged as you followed him down the stairs. “Let me come. I’m feeling better! I can—“

“No,” his voice was firm as he continued towards the front door.

“John and my other doctors said that I am good. Why can’t you—“

“I said no!” He yelled. You flinched back. Sherlock had never raised his voice at you like that before. “I will see you later.”

He slipped out of the front door, leaving you stunned inside. Sherlock regretting his tone, having sensed your flinch. But he had other things to worry about like the case he was currently trying to solve. Annoyingly so, Sherlock couldn’t get you out of his head the whole day. The man he was casing after almost alluded him because of it. He was coming home late, frustrated at the whole situation.

You had a similar, frustrating day. Unable to do anything without thinking about how Sherlock had treated you that morning. It was not okay and you were determined to let him know that. You waited in his room; going from reading to pacing and then repeating it all. You heard the front door slam and you knew he was home. 

Sherlock’s steps were quick up the stairs. He paused in front of your room, unable to tell if you were sleeping or just not in there. He huffed as he marched into his room. You stood up as he entered. He froze as he saw you there waiting for him.

“What you did this morning was not okay, Holmes,” you told him angrily. “I am not a fragile doll! This is why I didn’t want to tell you about my health because I knew you would never let me do anything again. I am not okay with that! I am not useless! I—“

You were cut off by Sherlock’s lips over yours. He was hungry for you and you quickly reciprocated it, grabbing at him the way he was grabbing at you.

“You’re not fragile,” he whispered against your lips. “And I’ll show you that I believe that, if you’d let me.”

You responded with another eager kiss, allowing him to begin taking off your layers of clothing.

~~~

Sherlock kissed your bare shoulder as you slept against him. He had spent a good portion of the night showing you that he knew that you were not fragile. When you finally fell asleep against him, Sherlock promised himself that he would never be oblivious to your pain—or love—again.

[xoxo-teddybear]

The Silent Treatment - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: slight angst, slice of life, crack(ish?), fluff, cursing

Summary: Bakugou is very much....an asshole. A shithead. A professional dick if you will. And Y/N, being his girlfriend is very much aware of that. So when he takes it too far, she has to make sure he learns his lesson.

A/N: just a quick lil cute thing, totally not spelled check

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Hey babe!” Bakugou said as he walked into the living room to find his girlfriend reading a book. He plopped down next to her and just relaxed in the feeling of the soft cushion. The little shit felt like messing with his girlfriend today.

Y/N had already been having a pissy day. After arguing with her boss, forgetting a few items back at the grocery store, and losing her new pair of headphones, she just wanted some peace with her cup of tea and a good book. Now, she has her loving boyfriend to comfort her as well. This day was surely taking a turn...right?

“Hi love, need something?” You asked calmly with the most melodic voice. Your voice. His favorite sound in the world. The sound of you just put a smile on his face which is a huge oxymoron to what this motherfucker is about to say.

“Nah, just wanted to talk to my princess,” he said while resting his head on your stomach, resting in between your legs and wrapping his arms around your waist. You awed at him but didn’t notice his little devil smile. “I had the best dream last night.”

“About what Suki?” You asked while petting his soft hair.

“You.”

“Awweee,”

“Yeahhh. You went mute for the day. Fucking paradise.” Once the words left his mouth you stilled your actions and felt your eye twitch in annoyance. Your hand on his head stilled and slightly tugged at it. In any other circumstance, Bakugou would’ve groaned at the tug (kinky bastard) but he was too busy chuckling into your tummy.

You exhaled roughly through your nose and pushed Bakugou off of you in a very polite way. He rolled onto his back onto the actual couch and watched as you crossed your legs, close your book, and pick up your tea mug.

“Hmph!” Was all that you “said” as you tilted your nose to the air and walked away. Bakugou just snickered as you left. He thought it was adorable when you were mad over tiny inconveniences and thought it was hot as fuck when you were yelling at him, but today, you won’t be doing neither.

—

About 30 minutes had passed and Bakugou had awoken from his nap on the couch. He fell asleep after you walked away but now missed your touch. He sat up, stretched, and went to find you. He walked around the house until he spotted you relaxing in the jacuzzi in the backyard. He grinned at your relaxed look and went to change.

A few minutes later Bakugou had came out to join you in the hot tub. Your eyes were shut as you relaxed in the bubbling water, and so Bakugou was able to get in without being seen. He relaxed into the water as he scooted closer to you, eventually grabbing a hold of your waist.

“Hi baby,” he said as he attempted to place you in his lap but you looked at him with an unimpressed look as you scooted away. “Y/N?”

You grabbed your towel and stepped out of the tub. You wrapped yourself in the cloth as you walked back into the house, completely ignoring Bakugou as he spoke to you.

“Wha- you’re just gonna leave? I just got in with you,” he pouted. He opted to stay in the nice warm water for a bit but once you closed the door he groaned and sunk deeper into the water. He let the water go just above his mouth and right below his nose as he blew bubbles into the tub out of annoyance.

‘The fuck is up with her?’ He thought to himself.

—

Time passed and Bakugou came out the tub. He went back to his room to change into some gray sweats and a black long sleeve (and yes he pulled the sleeves up a bit because he knew you found it attractive and if y’all don’t, well I do).

He walked into the kitchen and spotted you seemingly eating dinner. He noticed a plate for him but kind of frowned at the fact that you didn’t wait for him. He saw you placed the plate on the other side of the island, far away from you, and so he pulled the plate over and took the seat next to you.

“Hey, princess? You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” He asked but you said nothing as you just ate in silence. “Silent treatment huh?” No words.

“Baby, is this about what I said? I was only kidding Y/N,” he said as he tried to wrap his arm around your waist but you pushed it off and he groaned. “Fine. Be that way, you’ll get over it. Come talk to me when you’re done acting like a brat.”

Bakugou just grunted as he ate his dinner in silence right next to you. You finished before him and walked away after you washed your dish and this time it was Bakugou who snubbed his nose in the air at you. If it was the silent treatment that you were gonna give then it was the silent treatment that you were gonna get....sorta.

—

“BABYYYY PLEASSEEEEE!!” He whined while poking at your leg. You were currently in your home office typing away at your computer doing work when Bakugou came in about 25 minutes after he finished his dinner. He couldn’t help himself. He missed you.

You continued to ignore Bakugou as he poked and shook you for attention. You gave him nothing all day and he was getting close to his limit. Please believe he wasn’t getting shit after that brat comment.

“Princessss, c’mon! It was a joke baby, let’s go to sleep, yeah?” He begged. You looked at him with a bored expression and saw his smile as you finally gave him something. You turned back to face your computer and his smile dropped again and was replaced with a scowl. “Y/N, I was just messing with you. I love the sound of your voice and I love you. So quit ignoring me and come give me love!” He demanded.

When he noticed you weren’t budging, he stood from his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose as he mentally counted.

‘1....2...3,’

He gave in and forcefully turned your chair and threw you over his shoulder. You didn’t speak to him but you squirmed and shook trying to get out of his grasp.

“Aye, aye,” he smacked your ass to get you to stop, “quit it. I’m tired, and I want sleep, and we both know I don’t sleep unless my teddy bear is with me, so shush.”

You looked at him when he told you to “shush.” As if you hadn’t been doing that all day. He just squinted his eyes as he knew what you were thinking. “You know what I mean shitty woman!”

Bakugou stormed into your shared bedroom and dropped you onto the mattress. You didn’t even try to run away. You had decided that, yes, you are indeed tired but you refused to give a certain blonde any attention. You stretched on the bed and Bakugou was in awe of your cute state but quickly snapped out of his trance when you turned on your side and gave him your back.

Bakugou got into bed along side you and scooted closer. He pressed himself against your back but once he made contact, you scooted farther away. And so, he scooted himself closer again but just like before, you scooted away. This went on about 2 more times before you scooted and fell off the bed.

“Y/N? You okay, love?” He asked as he looked down at you. You popped up from the floor, on your knees and grumbled to yourself as you vented quietly. You stood up and continued ranting as you tried to walk away to sleep on the couch but before you could get away from the king sized bed, Bakugou grabbed your wrist and pulled you on top of him. “Ignore me all you want but I’m not sleeping without my cuddles.”

You sighed as you gave in. You allowed him to hold you but you refused to speak. Bakugou rubbed circles onto your back as he inhaled your scent but he missed the sound of your voice. The sweet sound that was something similar to honey.

“Baby...I’m sorry.”

You looked at him when he apologized and raised your brow. A verbal, genuine, apology from Katsuki Bakugou? This you’ve gotta see.

“I know I shouldn’t have said that to you and even if I was only kidding......it was pretty fucking mean. ..But I hope you know I love the sound of your damn voice. I love you, dumbass. And I would never ask you to stay silent because....*sigh* ‘cuz your voice, you talking to me, you being with me, and just you in general keeps me sane. So I’m sorry. Okay? And I love you..” he said with a growing blush as he stared at you with a flustered face.

You smiled and went up to peck his lips and then give him a loving kiss. He jumped at the sudden contact but quickly melted into the kiss. He smiled as he finally got to revel in the sweet intimate moments like this. The sweet moments he’s been missing all day.

“I love you too Suki.” Oh how he craved to hear your voice. He loved the sweet sound and missed your loving tone. He pulled you in closer and just held you tight. He doesn’t plan on letting go.

“I’m so sorry. I will never make you upset like that ever again.” He bargained but you only shook your head.

“Katsuki, I was just messing with you today. I had an annoying day and that little joke just sent me over the edge but you know I never take your mean quips to heart. You’re rough around the edges but that’s just who you are and I don’t mind it. I love everything about you, even if you’re a jerk sometimes,” you teased and flicked at his nose. You giggled as he whined and tried to soothe the spot you hit. “You don’t have to censor yourself around me. Okay?”

Bakugou smiled even more. He loves you so damn much. Not only did you know he was just a little abrasive, but you accepted him for all his brunt behavior. You truly did love him. “Thanks princess,”

He sealed the deal with a sweet kiss to your temple as you giggled at the warm feeling of his soft lips. He pulled you down to his chest as you both cuddled up for the night. You sleeping is the only time Bakugou will ever be okay with you being silent. But never again will he ever allow himself to get the silent treatment.

A/N: Guys, I’m so sorry. I’ve been in such a slump and I feel like im reaching a writers block. It’s not even like I don’t have any ideas, I do! And I even have multiple unfinished pieces in my drafts but I just don’t have any motivation to finish :( sorry Cubs, don’t worry, I’ll try my best to finish them as quick as I can. Idk, should I take a break?

I’m already in the middle of a story and I don’t wanna leave those who are reading on a cliffhanger.

[heavenlybarnesss]

Mine

Pairing: Ed Warren x reader

Summary: A college professor gets a little handsy with you when you and Ed go out for drinks with the rest of the crew.

Warnings: Some unwanted touching, jealousy, violence, sexual harassment, vulgar comments from an asshole

Author’s Note: I meant to post this earlier, but I had some personal things come up so I totally apologize you guys. There’s a possibility someone close to me in my life could have cancer and my grandpa is sick AND I started school so it’s gotten a little hectic. I’m so sorry guys. Alsooooo this turned out to be more angsty than intended so I’m going to write a softer one after this.

It was a crisp Friday night in October, and Ed had given a successful lecture on demonology and exorcisms to a college class earlier that morning. Therefore, you suggested that the two of you go out for drinks with the rest of the crew to celebrate. Ed had noticed the college professor that lead the class looking a little too intently at you while he was giving the lecture, but decided to let it go. Ed was the one that had your undivided attention, not him. And you didn’t waste any time in blowing your husband flirtatious kisses and winking at him just to see him a little flustered on stage.

His decision to sweep what he had witnessed under the rug, however; was short lived from the moment the two of you walked through the door of your favorite bar and grill. Sitting at the bar alone was none other than the professor, looking just as sleazy as he had earlier in the day. Ed was immediately put on edge, finding the situation to be more than just a coincidence. You removed your coat to reveal a little black number you saved for an occasion like this one. Ed’s eyes went wide with admiration for the way the dress hugged your body. At the same time, he started to feel a little possessive.

Ed was a sweet man of chivalrous nature, and he respected you. He didn’t see you as his property and knew you could take care of yourself, but the thought of anyone looking at you or thinking of you in that ravishing dress was driving him up the wall. He clenched his jaw, trying to shake the thought. You smiled up at him and wrapped your arm around his, motioning for him to follow the kind hostess to your booth. Ed didn’t have to turn his head to know the professor’s eyes were glued to you as you walked past. You hadn’t noticed, but nonetheless; a palpable uneasiness washed over Ed.

“Is everything okay baby?” you asked innocently. Ed looked down at you and gave you a smile, taking your small hands in his large ones.

“I’m fine, just a little tired is all,” he replied. Minutes later Lorraine, Drew, and the rest of the crew arrived and you all decided to order drinks. You ordered a martini and Ed decided on an Old Fashioned to calm his nerves. There was nothing to worry about, maybe it was just a coincidence after all. This was his night to spend with his friends and the woman he loved, and he wanted to enjoy it. The next half hour was spent enjoying appetizers and laughing at fond memories. You threw your head back and cackled as Lorraine recalled a time when Ed split his pants during an exorcism gone wrong.

“Stop, you’re telling me you kept going even with your boxers showing?” You giggled uncontrollably, grabbing Ed’s forearm.

“What was I supposed to do? Ask the demon if I could go change first?” Ed replied. Your laughter was simply intoxicating to him. There was no doubt he could get drunk off of your presence alone. He watched as your red lips wrapped around the rim of your glass, your eyes lightly glazed over from the alcohol. His eyes lingered over your exposed cleavage, the black dress leaving very little to the imagination. The sound of your straw sucking up air signaled that you were ready for another round.

“Alright, I’m getting another. Does anybody need anything while I’m up?”

“Oh I’ll go, I need to use the restroom anyways,” Lorraine answered. You turned to Ed and smiled, batting your lashes at him as if to silently ask for him to let you out of the booth. He moved over and stepped out, giving you room to stand and pull your dress back down your thighs as you did so. Lorraine followed suit behind you.

“You know, maybe I should go with you hon,” Ed said. He was hesitant of the idea of you being at the bar alone. You rolled your eyes at Ed’s overly protective nature.

“I’m fine, baby. I’ll only be gone a minute. Besides, I’ll have Lorraine.” You kissed his cheek and headed towards the bar. Lorraine quickly gave you her order while she made a beeline for the bathroom, mouthing an ‘I’ll be right back’ in your direction. You nodded and leaned your elbows onto the bar, looking around for the bartender. A burly man with a long beard came from around the corner. “Oh, hi! Can I get a dirty martini and one gin and tonic please? Thanks.” The man just silently nodded at you to acknowledge your request. While waiting for your drinks, you felt a presence behind you and assumed it was Lorraine. You turned around, only to be face to face with one very tipsy college professor. The smell of cheap beer filled your nostrils, his body uncomfortably close to your own.

“Oh, Professor Thompson. Hi, how are you?” you asked, attempting to put some space in between the two of you discreetly.

“Mm, a dirty martini? What else do you like that’s dirty?” he asked you, his words slurred. You shuddered as he got closer, his hands positioned on either side of you. He towered over you. He wasn’t quite as tall as Ed, but still tall enough to look down at you. You felt violated, for it was clear he was trying to get a good look down your dress.

“Excuse me, but I need to get back to my husband.” You tried to step away, but he only made it more difficult for you by stepping in your path. Your hands started to feel clammy as you began to panic. You felt trapped, and your heart sped up at the thought of him trying something with you. Your lip trembled, but you tried to calm yourself in fear of your tears only provoking him. You made another feeble attempt to go in the other direction when he grabbed your arm harshly, his nails digging into your skin. You cried out, his grip was sure to leave a bruise.

“It’s not very polite to leave in the middle of a conversation with someone, Mrs. Warren,” he hissed at you. He pulled you close to him, your body squirming as he started to move his hand up your thigh.

“Get off of me,” you said, your hands fighting desperately to shove him off of you.

“Where’s your husband, the esteemed demonologist now, sweetheart?” A fearful tear rolled down your face as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. The next few seconds were a blur to you, for you were so rattled from being manhandled that you couldn’t think straight. The professor was thrown off of you with sudden force, stumbling backwards and nearly onto the floor in his drunken state. A pair of large hands gently nudged you away from the professor and you were thankful when Drew came into your line of sight. He grabbed you and pushed you safely behind him.

You peeked around to see the owner of the strong hands that removed the professor from you, and it was none other than your beloved husband. His eyes were dark, his neck and chest flushed red with anger. He grabbed Professor Thompson by the collar of his shirt, nearly lifting him up off the ground.

“I’m pretty sure that when a lady tells you to get off of her, it’s not a plea for you to get closer. Especially when that lady is my wife.”

“Okay, okay. Relax big guy. We were just having some fun,” the professor snidely replied. Ed didn’t take kindly to this, turning and shoving him harshly against the wall. The professor struggled to breathe, Ed’s forearm now pressing against his windpipe.

“Shut your god damn mouth and listen to me. By the looks of the tears streaking down my wife’s face, I can tell she wasn’t exactly having the time or her life. I swear if you ever lay a hand on her or get anywhere near her again, I will kill you.” Both yours and Drew’s eyes widened in surprise. Ed never talked with such malice in his voice. It felt like the whole bar had gone silent, and the only sound was the ruffling of the professor’s shirt as Ed let him go. His blue eyes met yours, and they instantly softened. He was still infuriated, but figured you had been through enough for the night. He walked towards you and briskly grabbed your hand, using his other to wipe the tears away from your eyes.

“You okay?” he whispered. You just nodded your head meekly, your stomach still in knots. The discoloration on your arm caught his eye. He turned it over to get a full look of the purple bruise forming over your once soft, supple skin. The sight sent Ed into a whole other fit of rage. He had laid hands on you. The next words out of the professor’s mouth couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“You know you shouldn’t leave a woman with an ass and tits like that alone. She’s really asking for it.” You froze at the sound of his voice, for clearly the asshole just hadn’t had enough. Not a second went by before hands were flying, Ed’s fist immediately colliding with the professor’s nose. The force sent him straight to the floor, writhing in pain with what was definitely a broken appendage. Your hand flew to your mouth in shock at the sight before you.

Ed moved on top of the professor, his first hitting him repeatedly. You gasped at the visible blood on his knuckles. In the whole year the two of you had been together, you’d never seen him this violent. Drew stepped in, urging Ed to let it go before somebody called the cops. He looked up at Drew’s face and then to your own, his chest heaving up and down. You stepped towards him slowly. You ran your fingers slowly through his disheveled hair.

“I’m okay, babe. Let’s go home. He’s not worth it,” you said, barely audible. Ed stood up off the man and brushed himself off. He wrapped his arm around your waist tightly and the two of you walked towards the front door to grab your coats. The drive home was quiet as Ed’s hand rested on your bare thigh. To say he was shaken up was to say the least. He should’ve went with you to the bar like he wanted. He could���ve prevented you from getting hurt.

The two of you walked into the house, relieved to finally be home. You took your heels off at the door and plopped yourself down onto the couch. You sat up when you saw Ed standing idly in the kitchen, lost in thoughts of guilt.

“Don’t do this to yourself. It isn’t your fault, Ed.”

“It is, actually. I noticed him when we walked through the door and I noticed the way he was looking at you when I gave that lecture. Something wasn’t sitting well with me and I just brushed it off,” he said. “I should’ve went with you to the bar.” You got up off the couch and into the kitchen. You placed your hand on the back of his neck and gently rubbed your thumb over his skin. You pulled him down to kiss you, placing your other hand to rest on his chest.

“Ed, the fact that he’s a predatory pig is not your fault. You saved me tonight, and that makes you my hero. Besides, it was pretty hot the way you kicked his ass,” you said with a giggle. Ed finally caved, smiling at your comment. He kissed your forehead and pressed your body flush against his, afraid to let you go anywhere alone after tonight.

“You’re mine, and don’t you forget it,” he mumbled. You smiled, keeping your tired eyes closed for the moment being.

“I would never. I’m all yours, baby. I promise.”

[kirishimaswife2819]

When Their S/o is on Their Period || BNHA Boy Headcanons

Masterlist

Pairings: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader, Eijiro Kirishima x Fem!Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader, and Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

Summary: How the boys act when you’re on your period

Word Count: 1.6k

A/n: I wrote this because my period is supposed to come in like two days and I am not very excited at all. Anyway, I hope you like these headcanons, and requests are still open and all that, just read the rules first. Also, thanks for everyone who has liked/reblogged any of my posts or even followed me, I really appreciate it. Hope you all have a great day/night! :) -Danielle <3

Izuku Midoriya:

If you don’t tell him ahead of time that you’re going to be on your period and you snap at him he’s gonna get so upset

Like he’s going to think about every little thing that happened for the past few weeks and try to see where he went wrong

Then when you tell him you’re on your period, he’s going to just freeze, and then start to panic

His face gets all red, but he still asks if you if you need anything

If you send this boy to the store to get pads/tampons, expect him to be gone for a solid few hours

When he firsts gets to aisle, he stands there, because he knows absolutely nothing about pad/tampons, and he doesn’t know what brand to get

So then, he takes out his phone and starts typing, and trying to do research, but google isn’t helping him decide what to get at all

So, then the nice old lady restocking the shelves, offers to help, noticing how he’s panicking

He still ends up getting a few different brands, but that’s okay

If you get bad cramps, like really bad, he’s definitely going to cry

He hates seeing you in pain

If you are having cramps he’ll give you some medicine he bought and offer you a heating pad

After he gets you feeling a little better, he’s going to give you all the snacks he got you and offer to cuddle and watch whatever you want with him

Overall, even though he gets really embarrassed about it, he’ll still help you if you need him to

Katsuki Bakugou:

If you snap at him, he’s going to like brush it off, but after the second or third time he’s going to go off on you

But once you tell him you’re on your period he’s going to be so confused

Not because he doesn’t know what it is, but because he has no clue what he’s supposed to do about it

He’ll apologize for going off on you

By apologize I mean that he’ll mumble sorry under his breath so that you can barely hear it

But I mean it’s Bakugou, so just take what you can get

He probably wouldn’t offer to go anywhere to get you anything

But if you ask him, he’ll go (Only after complaining the whole time getting ready to leave though)

He’s going to make sure you tell him what brand of pads/tampons to get so he doesn’t have to embarrass himself in front of people in the store

If the cashier says one word about him buying them or gives him a weird look, he’s going to get very pissed

“They’re for my girlfriend, now stop giving me weird ass looks and comments and just scan the damn things!”

He’ll probably end up grabbing more snacks or chocolate than you asked for but if you ask why he did that, he’s going to say it was a total accident, even though it wasn’t

After he brings you the stuff he’ll just crash in your bed, and demand cuddles

But he won’t ask, he’ll just pull you to him and cuddle you

The first time you’re on your period around him, he’s pretty embarrassed but hides it, but with time, he gets used to it and it doesn’t bother him anymore

Although no matter if he’s sixteen and buying pads/tampons for you or seventy and buying pads/tampons for you, he’s still going to end up yelling at the poor cashier, even if they don’t comment or give him a look

Eijiro Kirishima:

I may be a bit biased because I absolutely love Kirishima (if you couldn’t tell), but I am convinced that he would be the best boyfriend in every way

And that includes when you’re on your period

If you snap at him, he’s going to get a little upset, but immediately ask what’s wrong and try to figure out what the issue is

After you tell him, he’s going to panic but hide it so he doesn’t alarm you

Immediately offers to go get you anything you need

But he’s so eager to help you out, he forgets to ask what brand of pads or tampons to buy 

So now he’s in the feminine hygiene product aisle, standing next to some twelve year old girl whose low key too embarrassed to grab a box of pads in front of some teenage boy

So she’s just standing there, waiting for him to leave, but he’s trying to figure out which box to buy, so he’s like looking at all of them and picking them up, trying to figure out the difference between all of them

And the girl goes to quickly grab a box and run off, but then he speaks

“Wait, can you help me?”

And the girl low key just wants to disappear right then and there, but she helps him anyway

This man walks away with a few different brands of pads/tampons in his arms not realizing he just traumatized some little girl by asking her for advice on getting his girlfriend pads/tampons

Then he grabs you some snacks, medicine, and whatever else you wanted, before checking out and leaving

He like rushes home because he was taking so long and he was worried about you

But when he like bursts into your room, you’re literally fine, and just chilling eating some stale chips, and watching some Netflix

Kirishima immediately takes away your stale chips, and gives you the stuff he bought

So now you guys are eating the new and not stale chips while binge watching your favorite Netflix show for the fiftieth time

Shoto Todoroki:

I only have three words: Human Heating Pad

But seriously, if you have cramps, and you tell him heat helps, he’s definitely going to offer for you to use his hand as a heating pad

Once he learns that you’re on your period, he’s going to try his best to help, but he knows nothing about them despite having a sister

After taking a moment to compose himself after initial shock of you telling him, he’s going to offer to go to the store for you

So, now he’s in the aisle, trying to figure out what brand to get

He had tried calling you, but you must of been napping, because you didn’t pick up

Eventually he decides to call his sister and ask for some help

His sister proceeds to tell him about pads and tampons and how they work

He ends up writing some of the stuff down in his notes on his phone so he knows for next time and doesn’t forget

Then he’ll get whatever else you want

He’ll probably end up grabbing something extra too

Like a little gift such a plushie or a necklace, since he now knows periods really suck

He ends up getting you a gift every time your on your period (with Endeavor’s credit card of course), so it kind of morphs into a little tradition even though you insist that he doesn’t need to do it

But once he returns to home, you apologize for not answering, since you were in fact napping, but he quickly shuts you down and gives you everything he had got for you

Then you use his hand as your personal heating pad and talk about your lives

Overall, he’s pretty calm about the situation, and doesn’t make it a bigger deal than it needs to be

Denki Kaminari:

When you snap, or if you snap, he’s probably just going to brush it off

But the second time you snap at him, he makes some dumb remark

Probably something like, “Damn is it that time of the month or something?”

That gets him a textbook to his face

He’s honestly surprised with your response to his question

“Actually, yeah! Asshole! Now, if you’re gonna be a jerk, get the hell out and leave me alone!”

He was only joking and didn’t expect you to actually say yes

After you admit that you being on your period is the problem, he doesn’t know what to do

He knows the basics of a period, he knows you bleed, and like chocolate, and you sometimes get cramps, but other than that he has no idea how to handle the situation

After a moment of trying to figure out what to do, he asks if you need anything

Now he’s in the store, trying to figure out what a ‘flow’ is, and why pads and tampons are so expensive

He ends up calling Kirishima to come help, who has no clue what to do either

Then they turn it into a group call by adding Bakugou and Sero

Bakugou calls them ‘fucking stupid’ but doesn’t know shit about periods either so when they ask him for help he makes up some excuse for not telling Kaminari what to do

Sero is actually helpful and tells him to just get one of each type of flow, since Kaminari refuses to call you and ask (R.I.P. Kaminari’s wallet)

Kaminari thanks him, and then they end the call

Then he gets whatever else you asked for, before heading home

When he gets there, he awkwardly hands you the bag and asks if you need anything else

When you say you want him to stay, he’s immediately jumping into your bed and cuddling with you

He thought since you were on your period, you wouldn’t want to be around him and it low key made him kind of sad, cause he would miss you

Then you guys spend the rest of the night scrolling through Tik Tok, and laughing along to videos

At some point, you end up seeing the thing girls do on Tik Tok where they ask their boyfriend’s how pads work

When Kaminari continues watching the video, and learns how pads actually work, he’s like turns to you and is like

“Wait, the sticky part doesn’t stick to your vagina?”

Somebody please help this poor idiot

[whorangdan]

pretty boy

part one of what i'm hoping will be a series. i decided not to split this so it is a bit lengthy, i apologize.

around 3.7k words, shy!virgin!joshua, praise kink, slight finger sucking, blowjobs, overuse of the word pretty, pretty boys being pretty, reader is shameless, joshua's a wreck, soonyoung cameo at the beginning, sorta proofread, sorry for any mistakes xx

you've always taken a liking to the pretty boy living in the apartment across yours. you've seen him around campus and had him for one of your classes so it wasn't like you were a total stranger, you two had interacted before. like the times the two of you left your apartments at the same time and awkwardly bowed your heads towards each other before the both of you went your respective ways.

you had to admit, the boy was cute. his black hair messily fanned across his forehead, and you've seen the way his eyes slip into crescent moons whenever you catch a glimpse of him smiling during class. you'd be lying if you said he didn't interest you.

deciding to get closer to the pretty boy, you approach him during class. from the short talk you had with him you found out two things. 1, his name, joshua, and 2, he was valedictorian of his graduating class in highschool.

you had given him your number, passing it off with some shitty excuse of "if any one of us ever misses class we can catch the other up, yeah?"

luckily for you joshua didn't seem to think twice about your lame excuse. he nodded, chuckling as you saved your number into his phone. you cursed your heart as you felt it flutter at his laugh. damn it.

______________________________________

the next time you saw him was at a café. he was a few people ahead of you in line. the boy picked up the hot chocolate he ordered and made his way to a table in the corner. cute. your thoughts were interrupted when someone behind you coughed, signalling for you to order. embarrassed, you mutter an apology and quickly order your drink to catch up to him.

"hi joshua! is it alright if i sit here?" you asked warily, slightly afraid he would say no. but of course, this was joshua hong.

he nodded, "of course. i was going to get in some extra studying before my next class but this is okay as well!"

"oh shit i'm so sorry. i could leave if you'd like?"

joshua brushes it off, "oh no you're fine, i've prepared enough, really!" he returns the smile you pass him and you feel your heart soar.

the rest of your time at the café is filled with mindless chattering of the project your professor assigned, the upcoming exam for your class, and joshua's work habits. you learn he loves being involved on campus, joining clubs and helping out when he can. you also learn he doesn't really take many breaks from school, instead opting to head to his apartment right after work.

"you really don't go out? not even by yourself?" you wonder, curious to how he even survives. junior year of college isn't the easiest. joshua blushes, not wanting to seem like a complete loser.

"well...i..i go to the shops a lot? to get food and stuff...and i go to the park a lot too? when i want to relax..." he trails off, not being able to think of anything else. his cheeks are red and he's shuffling nervously, awaiting your reply.

you simply smile. "that's cute, joshua. is it enough for you though? like, is it ever enough to feel completely free? sometimes it's good to forget about school, you know. there's a lot more to college than grades and studying," you tell him, sipping your drink. "not that it's a bad thing to focus on that stuff, of course." you add, not wanting to make him feel bad.

"i-i mean yeah..." he chews on his lip. "i'm kind of used to it all, i've been like this since highschool. sometimes it does become too much but there isn't really anything i can do about it." he finishes. you hum, impressed by his work ethic but also feeling pity for the poor boy.

"if it works then it works, nothing wrong with that. how about work?" you play with the straw in your drink.

"i work here, actually. it's not the most money, but it's enough for me to buy what i need, with a few dollars extra to buy miscellaneous items." he replies and as if on cue, an employee from the cafe strolls up to your table.

"hey, josh! you working later today?" the boy, who you recognize as soonyoung from one of your classes, wipes the table next to yours with a rag.

joshua nods, "after class, yes." soonyoung looks to you, stopping his cleaning.

"oh, hey y/n! i didn't know you knew joshua. small world, isn't it?" soonyoung laughs at his own comment.

joshua looks between the two of you, his brows furrowing. "you two know each other?"

"i have him for physics," you say at the same time soonyoung says, "i have her for physics!" the both of you stare at each other before soonyoung laughs and walks away, muttering something about how the world works in crazy ways.

you look over at joshua and he shrugs, sipping on his hot chocolate. you end up walking out of the café until the two of you need to part ways.

"see you in class, y/n!" joshua walks off hurriedly and you watch as the bunny keychain on his bag bounces with each step.

__________________________________

the two of you seemed to click together instantly and spent more time together than you first thought you would. you had a habit of going out together on the weekends and although at first it took an embarrassingly long time convincing joshua that it was okay to actually leave campus, now it's something he suggests himself. and it wasn't rare for joshua to spend the night over at your place, usually when the two of you are staying up late studying, but there are also times when joshua invites himself over, claiming he can't sleep. you don't understand how you help with that, especially since he sleeps on your couch on those nights but hey, you could never say no to him. you have been to his place before but most of your time together is spent at your place, seeing as you always have a full fridge.

of course with all positives come a negative, and you find your feelings for the pretty boy have become increasingly harder to ignore. through your time with him you've also learned he's incredibly fun to tease. the boy flushes at the mere mention of sex and doesn't seem to have any idea of even the basics. of course you aren't stupid and know very well what that means but joshua's always quick to shut any idea of him being a virgin down.

"i have done stuff before, y/n! i p-promise!" though the way he shuffles on his couch screams otherwise.

you chuckle. "i believe you, joshua, i swear. it's just fun to tease you like this. you become a blushing mess and it makes me want to ruin you." you tease, not really realizing the impact of your words until you notice joshua's cheeks flare up.

"...wh-what—what did you say?" joshua stutters, not daring to look up from where he's staring down at his hands.

"i was joking, shua! i wouldn't do anything to you if you didn't want me to." you laugh. hearing that makes joshua flush even more, your choice of words causing him to believe you want to do things to him.

"a-and...and if i wanted you to?" he admits after a couple minutes of silence. sighing, you take his shaking hand into yours.

"then i would do anything you'd ask. so long as you're okay with it." you shrug. joshua's mind is spinning, jealous at how you could be so casual with this while he was shaking like a leaf. it wasn't fair.

joshua slowly lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a look of determination settled on his face. "i want you to," his shaky voice betrays him and you smile fondly, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek. "to ruin me." he finishes.

"you're so cute, joshua. really, you are. have you ever kissed anyone, pretty?" the new nickname has joshua almost whimpering, not used to this kind of attention.

he shakes his head, "n-no...i haven't really...done anything...with anyone..." his head drops in shame.

you lift his head to look at you, staring into his eyes. "there's nothing to be ashamed of, pretty. i'll take care of you, if you allow me to." your words have him shuddering and he nods, so desperate already.

"i need words, joshua." he swears he almost moans then, biting his lip and managing to form a shaky yes.

dragging your hand to his neck you pull him in for a kiss. his lips slot against yours and you can tell he's nervous by the way his fingers tap against his thigh. you intertwine your other hand with his in hopes of calming his nerves. luckily it seems to work, his kisses becoming less shaky.

as the kisses become hotter and more desperate you pull away and he whines, chasing your lips.

"it's okay, baby. just a little change of position." you drag his thighs to pull him into your lap and he yelps, hands coming up to grip your shoulders. joshua flushes as the nickname and the closeness of you two hits him simultaneously.

"is this alright, pretty?" you hum, bouncing your intertwined hands on his thigh. joshua opens his mouth to answer but his breath gets caught in his throat and you laugh. he's so unbelievably precious. joshua nervously smiles at you.

you pull him in for a kiss again, your hand going up to his hair. deciding to experiment a bit you tug at his strands lightly and he moans into your mouth. pleased, you pull his hips closer to you. you detach from his lips and kiss down his jaw and neck. little whimpers leave joshua's lips and you see him bite his lips as if to muffle his noises.

"uh-uh don't hide your noises from me, pretty boy." your thumb reaches up to tug his bottom lip out from under his teeth. joshua nods and you take the time to examine how gorgeous he looks right now. his lips are swollen from the kissing and biting, black hair messier than you could ever imagine, and a blush lays prettily on his cheeks all the way down to his collarbones peeking out from his shirt.

his eyes are glazed over with desire and need. when he looks down at your thumb you get an idea. hesitantly, as if to just test the waters, you poke at his lips with your thumb, circling his mouth. as if reading your mind, he slowly opens his mouth, allowing you to slip your thumb between his lips.

"suck." you order, the rest of your fingers curling around his jaw. joshua obeys, his tongue and mouth working together to engulf your thumb. his head bobs and when you apply more pressure to his tongue his eyes slip shut, a cute whimper leaving him.

"oh, you like that? sucking on my fingers like this? of course you do. does it make you feel good?" joshua's moaning at your words, his hips beginning to lightly rub against yours. you chuckle at his pathetic attempts to pleasure himself.

"already so needy? i haven't even touched you and you're already so hard." he whines against your thumb. taking your thumb out of his mouth you pull him into another kiss, basking in the way he moans into your mouth.

"let's head to your room, yeah? your first time shouldn't be on a couch." you tap his thigh and he shuffles off your lap, taking your hand and leading you to his room. walking in you realize you've never been here before, and suddenly you're reminded of who it is you're doing this with.

his room is very clean and neatly organized. you take a second to look around, taking it all in. his desk is filled with random school stuff and you catch a glimpse of his assignment from your guys' class. on his dresser you see cute little houseplants, some random bottles you assume to be colognes and perfumes, and what looks to be a projector.

"what's this?" you gesture to it, walking closer to examine it properly.

"it's a...it's a star projector...when you turn it on it lights up and fills the room with little stars...i like turning it on when i can't sleep..." joshua nervously mumbles, scared you might find it childish. instead, you smile and you feel your heart melt. god how much cuter can he get.

turning around you see joshua sitting on the edge of the full sized bed in the middle of the room. he stares up at you and you notice the way his eyes are still glossy, and when you see the tent in his pants you remember what you're here for. dragging him into a kiss you push him into the mattress and he moans against your lips.

you hold yourself up with one hand and reach the other around to tug at his hair, using his moan as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. grinding down on his clothed crotch he whines pathetically into your mouth.

you pull away and rest your forehead against his to catch your breath.

"...please..." joshua begs, unsure of what he's asking for himself.

"what do you want, joshua? tell me what you want, pretty." you grind against him once more and he whimpers needily.

"i don't...i don't know..." his cheeks flare up and you're reminded he has absolutely no experience whatsoever.

"that's okay, baby. i'll help you. it's all about you today, so tell me what you want. we don't have to do anything you don't want to, you can say no at anytime." you reassure him, sensing how nervous he is. kissing his cheek you pull away, sitting against the head board. he makes his way into your lap and let's his head fall onto your shoulder.

"i don't think i'm completely ready for it yet...i'm sorry y/n..." he trails off and you swear you hear him sniffle. your hand reaches up to card your fingers through his hair, pulling him away from your shoulder to face you.

"hey, listen, shua. don't apologize. at all. it's okay. look at me," his eyes are still focused on your shoulder, not wanting to meet your gaze. he shifts his eyes to your face and you can see how desperate he is and how his eyes are laced with worry. "we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

he nods and you kiss his nose, then his cheeks, and forehead, and nose again until you're littering tiny pecks all over his face and he's smiling again. you kiss him again, more innocent this time, and you try to convey your feelings for him through this kiss, letting him know you care for him regardless of whether you two have sex or not. you can tell the message gets through to him by the way he shyly looks down when you pull away.

the scene would look incredibly awkward to anyone else. joshua's sitting in your lap, head on your shoulder, with you gazing down at him warmly. the mood is most certainly not matching the hard on in joshua's sweatpants. but you found it all the more endearing, and you weren't going to make anymore advances unless he wanted it.

joshua is reminded of the problem in his pants and he flushes once more. he may not be ready for the real deal, but he certainly wants to get off tonight. slowly, he grinds his hips. you don't even notice he's doing it until his breath hitches and he grips onto your arms for leverage, quickening his pace.

"..a-ah...i'm sorry...im just–" he's cut off with a moan and you nod at him, signalling you understand.

"i know, baby, i know. do you want a little help?" he nods furiously. you guide his hips a bit more, thrusting up to meet his moves. the friction has joshua's eyes rolling back, not used to such sensations.

"do you want to get off on my thigh, pretty? or do you want more? what more can i do hmm..?" you hum, stroking joshua's hair as he keeps up his movements.

he shakes his head, "help me, please. please help me—touch me please." joshua reluctantly slows his thrusts, staring up at you with his pretty eyes. smiling, you nod. grabbing his wrists you change your positions, now hovering over him.

you kiss down his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. joshua melts into the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets. you play with the bottom of his shirt, looking up at him. he nods, lifting his arms to allow you to slip the shirt over his head.

you take a minute to admire his body. his torso is slim and his skin is even, small moles littering his skin here and there. he's so gorgeous, you think. you let your eyes wander up to his neck, hickeys beginning to bloom, a pretty contrast with his fair skin. you're interrupted from your thoughts when joshua makes a noise of embarrassment, hands coming up to cover his blushing face.

"don't hide from me, joshua. you're beautiful." you coax, grabbing his wrists to lower his hands. you smirk at the way he whines at the praise.

"th-thank you..." you stroke his cheek before continuing your way down his torso to his waistband. you thumb at his pants and he lifts his hips, allowing you to slip the sweats off his legs.

joshua's face is burning up, not used to being so exposed. you're settled between his legs, hovering over the pretty boy.

"you look so pretty like this, shua. such a pretty boy you are." joshua whimpers, your words of praise going straight to his cock. you litter a few more kisses on his torso, going lower until you reach his boxers. you give open mouthed kisses to his length, the dark patch by his tip spreading the more you toy with him. moaning, joshua thrusts up against your mouth.

"no no, pretty. patience. i'll take care of you i promise. good boys wait patiently, and you're a good boy, right joshua? you'll be a good boy for me?" you tease, removing his boxers completely.

joshua nods desperately. "y-yes...i'm a good boy...your good boy..." he whines at his own words, the praise becoming too much. his neglected cock lays against his stomach, precum leaking over the tip and onto his belly. the hair down there is neatly trimmed and for whatever reason that makes you smile. cute.

"of course you are, joshua. my beautiful good boy. waiting so patiently." his hands are moving about, not sure where to put them as he tries his hardest not to grind his hips up. grabbing his wrists you hold them above his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead while you're there. "keep these up here, don't move. you can do that right?" joshua whimpers, nodding.

letting go of his wrists you turn your attention back to his cock. giving kitten licks to the head you glance up, taking in all of joshua's needy noises and using that to motivate you. you leave little kisses on the head before you take him into your mouth, joshua's hips jolting in response.

taking his entire length in your mouth was quite easy, not that he was small or anything, but he wasn't the biggest either. joshua's moans spill out of his mouth, hips slightly bucking before you rest a hand on his hips, stilling his body on the bed. your tongue circles his tip while your other hand works on the rest of his length. the extra attention to his sensitive head has joshua whining, breath catching in his throat when you lick over his slit.

"feels good—oh god—feels so good..." you pull off his cock, your hand still stroking him. you notice the way his hands are still right where you told him to keep them, his eyes shut in bliss as your hand works to pleasure him. you find yourself smiling at how obedient he is.

his legs wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. leaning down you suck more marks onto his skin. joshua's moans are higher now, and with the way his hips are sloppily thrusting into your hand you're certain he's close.

"are you close, shua?" nodding, he opens his eyes to meet yours. "good boys ask for permission." your wrist works faster, thumb rubbing his slit.

"please...can i please...y-y/n...please can i cum..." he twitches against you, desperate for release. you jerk your wrist and joshua thrashes his head against the pillows, his thighs shaking with pleasure. you lean down to press soft kisses to his inner thighs, sucking marks onto the smooth skin.

"yes pretty boy, you can. cum for me, joshua." his back arches off the bed, streaks of cum coating his torso and your hand. you pull off when he's writhing from overstimulation, hands gripping the pillow above his head.

cute whimpers leave his lips when you clean him up, the post orgasm aftershocks combined with your gentle touches have him on cloud nine. joshua's eyes are closed, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. as gently as you can you pull him into your lap, being mindful of how sensitive he still is.

you stroke his hair out of his forehead, caressing his cheeks while he comes down from his high.

"hello, pretty boy. you did so good for me, shua. you were wonderful." you coo when he opens his eyes, his lips turning upwards at your words. joshua opens his mouth to say something but he coughs last minute, throat scratchy from all his moaning.

"oh i'm sorry, pretty. here, drink up." you press a water bottle against his lips, guiding him. when he's had enough he pulls away, head immediately dropping back on your chest.

"how was it? did you enjoy it?" you question, intertwining your hand with his.

"it was good...thank you y/n." he smiles up at you, squeezing your hand. you return the smile, rubbing his back and coaxing him to rest. joshua's eyes shut and he drifts off to sleep.

sighing softly you shift your positions so joshua's laying next to you. he hugs your waist in his sleep, cuddling you closer to him and you wrap your hands around his naked waist. bringing the sheets up to cover the both of you, you let yourself rest as well.

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

[itskotka]

i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day

peter parker x reader

tom!peter parker x reader

summary: you’re alone on new year’s eve. that is, until your best friend in a certain spandex suit knocks on your window with an injury and a smile

w/c: 1.1 k

It was supposed to be a normal night.

Well, as normal as it could get for New Year’s eve without a job or party to go to. You sat in your room alone, clock nearing 11:45. You never were too excited for the new year; every year dragged on like the last and nothing special happened on New Year’s for you anyway. Nobody to kiss, no places to go or people to see.

This year was supposed to be different - just like you say every year. You thought you might try something new or finally find yourself a loving partner. But it was the same every time, so why would this one be different?

Oh, you know why. Because you finally gained the courage to ask Peter to come over for New Year’s eve. But you never actually asked after he made a comment about the crime rate being crazy when everyone’s out past midnight. So instead, you sat alone, listening to the special on TV on low volume.

A sudden knock on your window made you jump. There was Peter, mask still on, sitting at your fire escape. You made your way over to open it, trying to contain your happiness that he showed up. The air was cold as it hit your skin, and Peter was panting heavily. As soon as he came in and took his mask off, you knew something was wrong. His face was pale white and he was wincing in what you could only assume was pain.

“What’s wrong?” Instead of answering with words, he began taking off the rest of his suit. “What’re you-“ You stammered before noticing a giant gash across his abdomen. His legs trembled and he fell onto your bed. “Peter.”

“S-sorry, I’m totally bleeding all over your bed,” he apologized. You resisted the urge to slap him.

“That’s what you’re concerned about? My sheets? Yeah okay, that’s logical.” He smiled that goofy smile of his and closed his eyes.

“Do you think you could… get your first aid kit out? Please?” You rolled your eyes. He cut you off again before you could respond. “I can bandage it myself, it’s not that bad. I only came here because I’m staying with Tony this weekend and God knows you can sneak past him injured-“

“Peter.”

“What?”

“I can bandage it for you and you don’t have to explain yourself. I’m fine with you being here, you know that, right?” It wasn’t the first time he came knocking at your window at weird hours of the night. You let him in every time, no matter the case. You were best friends, so of course, you would do anything for him. And maybe you wanted to be more than that, and maybe that was okay.

“Yeah. Okay,” Peter agreed. You hurried to your bathroom cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit. You had accumulated many of these, purely because of Peter. “Thank you, you really shouldn’t have to do this,” he said when you returned.

“I want to, okay? Enough with saying sorry.” You grabbed a bottle of whatever alcohol you could find and sat down beside him. “I’m out of antiseptic.” He sat up and reached for the bottle, opening it with ease. He took a swig first and handed it back to you.

“Thanks for the drink.” You laughed, taking a swig also.

“This isn’t even the good stuff. Hold still.” You pressed on the wound with a towel until the bleeding stopped. Pouring the alcohol on it, Peter seethed. “You’re a superhero and this stings?”

“Let me be weak. I’ve had a long day.”

“You didn’t even tell me what happened.” He groaned while you continued to dress the injury.

“Got cut with a knife. It all happened so fast, can’t say I really remember the details. Just your average mugging.”

“That’s not normal, you know,” you joked.

“Well, my life’s anything but normal anyway.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Expecting a joking reaction, you looked to his face. Instead, he sobered, not meeting your eyes. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I wish I hadn’t ever put you in this position.” You frowned.

“I’m sorry too. You shouldn’t have to feel this way.” You stopped and found yourself reaching for his hand. He intertwined your fingers between his as if it was the most natural thing he could do. “But I promise you, you’re not a burden to me or anybody else.”

“I just don’t want to hurt anybody.” You nodded in understanding.

“I know. You’ve really gotta be more careful though. I don’t wanna see you hurt either.” He paused, eyes trailing down to his feet. “I’m sorr-“

“No, you’re right.” He made eye contact and shook his head. “I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

“Are we making New Year’s resolutions now?” He laughed quietly.

“I guess so.” Despite not wanting to, you dropped his hand and went back to work on his cut. He cringed a few more times in pain. “That stings, you know?”

“I bet it does.” You finished wrapping it and placed a hand on his chest. “I’m done.” He looked up at you, relaxing back into your bed. Your breath hitched as the unspoken feeling between you two grew.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “For everything.”

“I was actually going to invite you over tonight, but I didn’t. So it kinda worked out that you showed up anyway,” you admitted. The TV, still humming in the background, announced cheerfully that there were 30 seconds until midnight. Your heart fluttered.

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“I figured you’d be busy with patrolling tonight.” He awkwardly laughed and you stared at him in confusion.

“I’d prefer to be here.” He bit back his smile and his face reddened. “Less danger, obviously.”

“Obviously, of course.” The celebrity on the television started chanting the final 10-second countdown. Peter glanced at you meekly before slipping his hand back in yours. “What’s that for?” You teased as he blushed.

“Sorry, I-“ He tried to take it back but you squeezed his hand tightly.

“I was just teasing you.”

“Right.” He paused in the silence. “You’re my best friend,” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Three

A strange expression crossed his face. He inched closer to you.

Two

Your heart pounded inside your chest and a wave of nervous excitement washed over you.

One

Before you could react, Peter’s lips collided with yours. You kissed him back, smiling, as his hands traveled to your hair. The moment was real, and it was perfect.

“Happy New Year’s to you too,” you said as you pulled away. He laid his head down.

“Did you- Is this what you want?” You squeezed his hand again and grinned.

“Yes. If you couldn’t tell, I like you. A lot. And I have for awhile.” You laid next to him in comfortable silence, hands still interlocked. You took your free hand and ran it through his messy curls - something you’ve wanted to do for months.

“Really?”

“Yes really.” Peter smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his touch with ease.

“What a way to celebrate, huh?”

“The best way.”