#'Oh but he could be just shooting himself in the foot again' Maybe but it's funnier if he's NOT

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Aromantic Bill where he WAS lying initially about not being interested in love because he's mad about how many failed relationships he's had. But then he gets into one after a buttload of character development and learning to like, be the bare minimum of a decent person, and it actually ends up semi-okay. The person's nice, and he's actually emotionally mature enough by that point to not completely shoot himself in the foot and/or treat them like absolute dogwater. ...Sure, it'll be a LONG while before he ever gets to that point, but you know. Their first date is actually very nice, and he doesn't even manipulate them or anything! For Bill, that's a huge step forward.

Problem is, he quickly realizes he absolutely hates the concept of dating and romance as a whole and is so goddamn smug when it clicks that he might've been right about love not being real. Suck it, everyone who claimed he was just saying that because he was terrible at keeping relationships!

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !

“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.

“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”

he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.

“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.

“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.

“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.

you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.

his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”

you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.

“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.

you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.

you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.

“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“

“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.

“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”

“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.

“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.

“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”

gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.

you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.

“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.

you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.

“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

batfam as fanfic tropes pt 1

ft. bruce, dick, and jason pt. 2

bruce

child’s teacher x single parent i mean that’s literally him. but also i like the idea of exploring his partner’s relationship with his kids

i want somebody to write like a bruce x whoever fic (whoever it is isn’t that important but i’m just saying i do think superbat is fun) with that trope

some college au where like all the kids have taken one of prof kent’s class and they all think he should be their dad

because they don’t want to leave their new dad

they’re hyping bruce up without him even knowing during their office hours

“like yknow prof kent, my dad has a dinosaur”

“oh…that’s certainly…interesting? i’m not sure what this has to do with intro to investigative journalism though”

“you could investigate the dinosaur! actually, we always have a big thanksgiving dinner and our butler, alfred, makes the best stuffing. why don’t you come over and check it out?”

“i’m not sure that’s appropriate of me as your professor. also i’m not sure a dinosaur would be a suitable—”

“you could get an exclusive interview with gotham’s richest and most eligible bachelor? um and we’ll throw in some wayne enterprises secrets too”

“…what was the address again?”

also i think he just gives me enemies to lovers vibes

maybe it has something to do with his canonical relationships

dick

meet cute i think he’s the only one who’s smooth enough to make this not awkward

like it is sort of awkward because this man flirts using puns but i feel like he’s charming enough to make it work

“hey girl are you a booger because i would pick you first” and then rolls nat20

fake dating

i feel like he would agree to it whether or not he actually liked the other person. honestly he might come up with the idea himself

he’s a naturally flirty guy and if he didn’t have a crush on the other person before he’s going to be so smooth with it

but then he spends time with them and he finds himself slower falling for them?

and like even if he ramps up the flirting, maybe tries to be more physical or spend more time with them, he’s not getting his message across and now he’s shooting himself in the foot for agreeing to this in the first place (and not realizing his own feelings and making a move before all of this happened)

but also maybe he’s just dense because he’s not picking up on the fact that they are doing a really bad job at hiding their feelings for him too

ALTERNATIVELY he goes into it already liking them

he thinks he’s going to be soooo smooth and charm them off their feet and then boom they’ll be dating for real

but for the first time in his life he’s stuttering and not knowing what to do and it’s really annoying how even when he’s like that, or maybe because he’s like that, he’s just as cute as he always is

he’s just a lover boy

jason

friends to lovers man seems like he needs to really trust somebody and have an emotional connection with them before pursuing a relationship

also this man canonically cannot flirt and cannot pick up on flirting so i don’t really think meet cutes are gonna work

i’m just imagining they’ve been friends for a while

it took him a really long time to open up. slowly, bit by bit, he reveals more of himself to his friend until he can honestly say they’re one of the people who knows him best

i think one of his biggest fears is not being good enough, like he’ll scare them away with all of his baggage and flaws. every time they have a late night conversation he lets his guard down a little and tests the water. he’ll give them a crumb and see how it goes. honestly, he’s terrified of their reaction but when things go well, he can’t help but want to give them more of himself

i think he’s always had bigger things in his life to worry about other than romance

is he a hopeless romantic? absolutely, if his bookshelf is anything to go by. but i think in some ways he has removed himself from that possibility a long time ago and maybe doesn’t see how he could be at all like the people in happy, loving, stable relationships that he reads about

it’ll take him a long time to realize his own emotions, much less act on them

and because of that, i think

idiots in love would also fit him very well. sorry i just think this guy is emotionally repressed and stupid and if the other person doesn’t figure shit out i don’t think he will either

i sure am roasting him a lot for someone who has a blog dedicated to him

but anyways, i feel like it would take a push for him to confess. whether that be a life threatening injury to either of them or maybe they’re getting too close to another person. i think he would need to come to terms with the fact that he could lose them and then decide that he would rather take the risk than never try

don’t think he’s making a move until he’s at least somewhat sure that the other person likes him back though

this is the best case scenario though. depending on what stage of his life he’s in when he meets somebody he likes, it could very well end up as a

right person wrong time i feel like he's also the most self-sabotaging out of all of them

like even if he met his soulmate, i think what he needs is therapy, not romance and would inevitably end up hurting himself and his partner when it turns out his own issues get in the way of his relationship

like he can't actually be fully vulnerable, not able to balance his work and personal life because what he's doing is so personal to him, not being able to settle down, that type of thing

guys i swear i want him to be happy

m.list | next >

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hii I love your work!

Could you do a (romantic but.. crush stage) headcanon of Alastor helping the reader and the reader gives him a kiss as a thank you and Alastor is like "what the hell was that?" Reader genuinely feeling bad for kissing him and Alastor says "you should be sorry" but then Alastor starts to constantly help the reader (even more than before) and everyone in the hotel knows what he's doing but reader is dense. Then eventually alastor just bursts into her bedroom shouting "FOR FUCK SAKE WHY WONT YOU KISS ME" (maybe not that but same energy)

Please and thank you :>

I'm just gonna...combine these two...

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being jealous, DOORS, Saucy?

Description: ☝️⬆️

You gave affection freely to those around you, everyone got a hug or a small peck on the cheek

So when you're struggling with something and Alastor helps you out? It's only natural for you to give him a quick kiss on the cheek

It's his reaction to it that makes you think you made a mistake in doing so, his body going stiff and gaze dark

You step back as you start to notice a green haze around him and the glass on his monocle cracking

"Don't you ever do that again, my dear."

"I'm-I'm sorry, Alastor-"

"You should be."

And just like that, he's back to normal, carrying on like nothing had happened and humming a jolly tune

But you still feel so guilty for making him so uncomfortable, that was the last thing you wanted

So you work hard to do better, to respect his boundaries and keep a respectful distance

It's not until later when Alastor has time to think about it that he actually realizes that he kinda enjoyed it

And that he's envious of the others who now freely get to soak up your attention and affection for doing little tasks

Like Husk getting scritches and scratches under his chin because he carried a box for you

Angel getting a warm hug with lots of nuzzling and cooing, all because he used his multiple arms to help you cook

Vaggie sheepishly accepting a thank you kiss because she caught you when you almost took a dive down the stairs

Charlie and Niffty are the worst offenders, always helping you and just eating up your praise and hugs

And now whenever Alastor helps you... you just give him a meek thank you and dash off

He's left there waiting for his hug and kiss that won't ever happen

He's not jealous, he told you not to thank him with physical affection

He just didn't realize that he was shooting himself in the foot when he snapped at you

So he starts trying to tempt you into it, taking every opportunity to help you out with every little thing

Alastor will physically shove the others out of the way in order to be the person who helps you out

And he never gets the proper thank you that he's looking for

It's getting to the point where you're driving him insane with those kissy lips and warm embraces

Why won't you just fucking give him some attention!? Oh yeah. Because he ruined it for himself

You do tell him that you're grateful for him and his help, sweetly smiling at him but keeping yourself at a distance

But it's not enough, he wants what everyone else is getting and then some

He hates being excluded or not being special and it's even worse when it comes to you

Alastor's thin patience suddenly snaps when one day while he's out running errands with you

The two of you bump into Zestial and the great overlord opens a door for you, earning a soft kiss on his cheek

It would almost be cute watching you struggle to do that, considering Zestial's height

But instead...Alastor is fucking irritated 😤

Zestial takes it well and you continue to run errands with Alastor for the rest of the day even though he's visibly sulky

His ears are bent back and his eyes are furious

You wonder what you did wrong

He's a bit distant from you for a couple days after that and you miss having him around

Even if you couldn't be with him, you still liked hanging around him and spending time with him

Just when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself and thinking you did something to offend him, wandering the hotel

He shows up by your side and grabs you, miraculously stopping you from almost falling into a fucking hole in the floor that wasn't there yesterday

Charlie is to blame somehow

You're just so happy to see him hanging out with you again that you hug him out instinct

Only to realize you fucked up and try to pull away-

But Alastor's firm grip on you stops you from moving, and he's looking at you in a way that makes your face heat up

"U-uh...um...thank you...Alastor..."

He tuts at you while shaking his head, pulling you flush against him as he leans in closer

"Words won't suffice anymore, my dear~ I'll only accept one thing as payment for my heroic services~"

You definitely don't melt when he suddenly kisses you and if your arms find their way around his neck then...

Who are you to deny him his payment? Kiss that bastard until he's crawling away and begging for mercy

Me hoping I didn't just shoot myself in the foot by bringing up the door thing again..

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls 10 2/2

Masterpost

Jazz’s roommate Tiffany was fine and all that, but Danny didn’t feel that he was missing out on much when he phased from the stairwell directly into the little ensuite bathroom that connected to Jazz’s bedroom. He could hear quiet conversation from the living room– the TV, maybe?

But Jazz had clearly locked her bedroom door before she left. Danny made a note that Tiffany definitely wouldn’t be finding him and then he starfished on his sister’s bed. He set an alarm for 1 am with a smidge of guilt. It probably wouldn’t wake her up. Maybe she wouldn’t even stay home for the night, she had a boyfriend, right? Or was she the one with the girlfriend who worked downtown?

Whatever. Danny slept like the dead. In fact, he slept through his alarm and woke up to see 7 messages from Jazz. The one showing on the screen was “DANIEL FENTON Tiffany thinks my bedroom is HAUNTED because someone is snoring in there.”

“Oops,” Danny said under his breath. He opened up the clock app and made sure that the alarm wasn’t going to go off again. He quietly pulled open Jazz’s drawers to find a clean pair of socks and a hoodie that didn’t have his university name written on it.

The first thing he pulled out was a baby pink hoodie that had SQUAT written on it in white all-caps print. “I sure do,” he said to himself, and changed into it. It was a lie. He did not lift weights. That was Jazz’s hobby.

He did enjoy the thought of how pinched her face was gonna get when she saw him in her clothes. Danny had a little chuckle over it before he phased back out and nearly fell down the staircase. His arms wheeled for balance.

When he caught himself he looked around to be sure no one saw. The zone was clear. Danny smirked.

“Another perfect landing for the Phantom.”

Oh, duh. That was a thought. He didn’t have to hoof it.

It was dark enough that he reconsidered his plan to walk to Arkham on foot and ducked back into Jazz’s place to transform where no one could see the light show.

He made good time across the stretch of ocean that separated Jazz’s dream job from the rest of Gotham City. He knew where to go, based off of insider information.

Jeremy Waters had landed himself in Arkham, rather than standard criminal housing, because he would not shut the fuck up about the debt the Ghost King was going to owe him and how he would repay it in the blood of everyone who crossed him or whatever. He was in the low security end, given that he was just some dude, but Danny still spend a moment steeling himself to wake Jeremy and (ugh) talk to him.

‘He’s going to take this as positive feedback,’ Danny thought glumly. ‘He’s going to think he’s gotten something in his obsession with me. He’s probably going to be even more annoying.’

He wasn’t entirely sure that Jeremy’s focus on gifting him spouses wasn’t projection. The guy was kinda obsessed.

The weight class difference between the two of them was just absurd, metaphysically speaking. Jeremy was a 52 year old Poli-sci graduate who had ditched a middle of the road career in the Foreign Service at age 40 and started pursuing immortality. Midlife crisis and all that. He had a bit of boxing experience, but that was it. He was just a human guy.

Danny was king of the dead and he could shoot lasers from his hands. He was strong even for a ghost.

‘It’s pathetic that he creeps me out still. It’s just such bad vibes to be pursued by this old guy who won’t take no for an answer.’

Still, gotta do what you gotta do. He blew frost into the room to set a mood and scramble the fuck out of any surveilance equipment. Then he grimaced his way through calling out, “Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy!” until the jerk woke up.

…and immediately started genuflecting. “My lord Phantom,” Jeremy whimpered. His whole body was shaking.

Danny wished it was fear. But no. It was excitement, like he was some freaky little purse dog. He shuddered. “What did you do differently in your latest summoning?” he asked. His voice somehow came out cold and superior.

He could see Jeremy’s dazed grin even when the guy was still looking at the cell floor. “I am so glad that you ask, my lord,” he babbled. “I increased the number of ritual participants from 7 to 12. I changed from Kosher to Pink Himalayan salt. I was initially going to offer my humble self as a sacrifice-”

Danny’s stomach lurched.

“But when the Red Hood burst in, I knew that it was a sign!”

The red what now?

“Surely someone whose aura is so soaked in death and brutality would be a flavorful meal for one so horrendous and deathly as you, my Lord,” Jeremy babbled on.

Danny made a face.

‘He thinks I’m going to eat the sacrifice spouse?’ Danny paused. ‘...Was he lying, or does he want me to eat him? What does he think will happen if death eats him?’

He had a morbid curiousity that made him want to ask. But it was probably best not to know. He needed to sleep at night.

“It was the Pink Himalayan salt that was powerful enough to draw my attention,” Danny told Jeremy, because he really didn’t need any good information. “I reject your offering. Stop trying.”

He left immediately in hopes of not hearing the wailing and gnashing of teeth behind him.

[kennahjune]

Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

.

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷

[stanpinesdykewife]

hii! could I request stan/gender neutral reader fluff? maybe something along the lines of what mornings look like together? the direction you take it is absolutely up to you, thanks again YOU’RE AMAZINGGG <3

i got carried away can u tell stan's my favorite. I'M CRAZY!!! i'm crazy. also THANK YOU so much your request is amazing it gave me brainworms!!!!!! under the cut:

mornings together stan/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 825 words

“Stan,” you say, nudging his shoulder. He grumbles in his sleep, rolling away from you so you're facing his back. You laugh openly, leaning further over the bed to nudge him again. Your other hand is adjusting your work pants, tugging it up and trying unsuccessfully to do your belt buckle. “Stan, wake up. You're giving me a ride to work, remember?”

“No gas,” he mumbles, pulling his arm away from you. When you poke him again, he raises a hand to wave you away. “Quit it.”

“Stanley.” Your belt is left undone as you shove him with both hands, and finally he rolls over to shoot you a glare. You just grin at him, and his face softens, just a little bit. “You're giving me a ride to work.”

“What genius came up with that idea?” he mutters, but props himself up onto his elbows with a groan. Stan rubs his eyes, some crust clinging to his lashes. His hair is all mussed up and his tank is crooked, one arm hole digging into his armpit and the other coming dangerously close to flashing a nipple. There's some dried drool on his face, from the corner of his mouth to the side of his jaw, and when he stretches his arms over his head, a series of concerning pops and cracks emit from his spine. One thing's for sure: if this were a cartoon, you'd have heart eyes.

“You did, you dork,” you say, the affection painfully clear in your voice. Stan picks the crust out of the corner of his eye and then looks at you, his brows furrowed still. He isn't glaring at you anymore—just needs his glasses. Before you can turn to look for them, he grunts and beckons you closer.

“C'mere. Gimme a kiss,” he grumbles, and you plant both hands on the bed to kiss Stan's cheek. A smile threatens his lips, but he keeps up the grumpy old man act: “What are you, Puritan?”

“I'm not kissing you until you brush your teeth,” you say matter-of-factly. Then, just to make fun, “I dunno where your mouth has been.” Stan quickly switches gears.

“You know where my mouth has been,” he says, the sleaze, and you laugh as a flush crawls up your face. Stan beams at you then, a charming, sleepy grin that makes you giddy. “Say I drive you to work. What's in it for me?”

“Here we go,” you say, rolling your eyes. Your smile cancels out any sass. “You've been awake for less than a minute and you're already hitting on me. You're a real perv, you know that?”

“Oh yeah, baby, love it when you talk dirty,” Stan says, and suddenly tugs at your wrist so you topple over. You faceplant right into his chest, and before you can react, Stan wraps his arms around you and heaves you onto him with little effort. You're laughing the whole way, eventually managing to shove your foot between the mattress and bedframe so you can push yourself up.

“Stan!” you protest, even as you grin into his shirt. Stan manhandles you so you're right on top of him, like a lizard on a log, and he holds you tight to his body with brawny arms.

“Alright. Back to bed. Goodnight,” he says promptly, tucking your head under his chin. He manages to fake one long, loud snore before you start squirming away from him. It's an impossible feat. His grip barely loosens. “Hey, what gives?”

“You're wrinkling my work shirt,” you say, and then squeal when Stan rucks up the back of your shirt like he's going to pull it off.

“Why do you need a shirt, anyway?” he snickers, and you manage to reach behind you to slap his hand away. Stan laughs and finally lets go of you. “Alright, alright!” You push yourself up, hovering over his face. You try to look mad, but you're still smiling.

“Stop fooling around,” you scold him lightly. You know for a fact Stan won't take you seriously, so your heart isn't in it. Still, you bargain, “If I give you a kiss, will you get up?”

“A trade, huh?” Stan doesn't even pretend to think. He tilts his head up at you, smug. “I'll take it.”

“Yeah, you will.” You close your eyes and lean down slightly. When you peek, Stan's closed his eyes, too, readying himself for a kiss. You shift your weight and smack his face lightly, very lightly, then roll straight out of bed and stand up. When Stan sputters, blinking his eyes open to look at you, you laugh in his face. “I'll kiss you when you brush your teeth! You really thought th—Oh, nope, you're getting up now, okay, meet you in the bathroom!”

You dash away, your undone belt buckle slapping against your thigh, your pants falling from your hips a few inches. Stan’s loud laughter follows you down the hall.

[heeheeswifey]

work rival heeseung!headcannons

MDNI!!

jealousy, jealousy...

work rival!heeseung who's just a jackass to you, tripping you over his foot whenever you two met at your workplace.

work rival!heeseung who was also a big perv, his dick getting wet at the thought of you bent over for him.

work rival!heeseung who asks you to remake the perfect presentation you had made.

work rival!heeseung who had the audacity to invite you to his celebratory party after the deal between the 2 companies was secured.

work rival!heeseung who was tightly gripping his wine glass, seeing you giggling with a man, that wasn't him...

work rival!heeseung who was aware of your little 'crush' on him, he thought you were so naïve!

work rival!heeseung who had lost it after the cute guy put his hand on your thigh, leaning in slightly.

work rival!heeseung who walked up to you two, harshly gripping your arm and dragging you away.

work rival!heeseung who locked the door to his office, planning to take you raw..

"w-what are you doing, heeseung...stop it!" You say, trying to stop him from bending you over his desk, manicured nails clawing at him arms harshly.. "y'wanna act like a fucking slut? I'll treat you like one." he seethes, ripping your panties apart, shoving them in his back pocket before shoving his thick fingers into you. your pussy was so, so warm, and so hot...just as he imagined. "you could've asked me to fuck you if y'wanted it that bad, pretty. Getting all up on another man was unnecessary." he coos, thick fingers pushing in and out and in and out your aching hole. "m'sorry, hee...I'll be good- p-please fuck me!" you mewl, clenching continuously around his fingers as you drenched them in your sweet cream.. "look at you, didn't even last five fuckin minutes.." he states, stuffing his coated fingers in his mouth, sucking explicitly loud on them. he didn't think twice as he made you arch your back deeper, pulling his painfully hard cock out of his pants quickly. "please..I want it...I want you inside me- hnngh!~" you whimper as he slides his dick into your gaping cunt. Using his tongue to lick 4 of his fingers, he covered them in his wet slobber before rubbing your clit languidly. "What a whore, can't stop hopping on other dicks, when she's got one for herself..fucking greedy lil' cunt.." he breathes, tugging on your hair relentlessly as he plowed into your cunt at a ferocious pace. "hee! oh my fucking godddd!~" you mewled loudly, spit dribbling down your chin in big globs. "so fucking cockhungry...can't even talk properly, you slut." He whispers into your ear, pulling your head back even further as he spat into your awaiting mouth. he looked down to where you both were connected, seeing a wet mess. "I'm gonna cum...please- I'm cumming..I'm cummin'!~" you whine endlessly, squirting all over his hard cock, but he still didn't stop. "I'll make you squirt on my dick all night baby, your mine, yeah?" he says to you shooting spurts of his hot semen into your cunt. "I'm all yours, hee." you whisper, in a daze. You had no time to process anything as heeseung pulled you into his lap, as he was sitting on his office chair. putting an arm under your thighs, he pushed back into your messy cunt. "m'not done with you yet, baby.." he whispers, ramming into your cunt from underneath you. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your cunt was the only thing heard, echoing in the big room. "heeseung...I'm cumming, shit I'm gonna-!" your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you squirt all over his cock for a 2nd time, your jaw dropped slack. "want me to empty my balls inside you, whore? you'll be my lil' pocket pussy darling.." He questions, and before you could answer, his warm cum was already inside your cunt. he pulled out of your cunt only to press down on your stomach, making the cum leak out of you. "maybe I should fuck you again." he says to himself, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in. you were in for a long ride...

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Will you come when I call? (will you answer when I beg?)

damn your love, damn your lies - series masterlist here

pairing: roy harper x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: ex bf roy harper but they're in looove, it's kinda unspoken that they're getting back together, vague references to bad things that can happen when you're out alone at night, roy's protective best friend jason todd

a/n: wowie it's getting happier folks. also hello how are we I feel like I'm coming out of hibernation

In your defence, the infamous Red Hood lives up to his reputation enough to assure you that you made the right choice in calling him instead of Arsenal. It had been an awful phone call to make, of course - saying that you were walking home late at night you were sure something bad was going to happen. But as bad as it had been to ask for help like that, at least you knew Red Hood would come. Arsenal? That, you weren't so sure of.

Per Hood's instructions, you stand on the sidewalk under the street light, shifting foot to foot and trying not to look back at the unconscious body he'd left in the darkness there. Wait here, he'd said. I'm sure… a friend will be here to pick you up soon. Looking up at the murky night sky, the stillness that the stars can't seem to shine through, you beg whatever's out there that he isn't sending Roy.

It's hard to imagine it, the Jason you'd grown to know as Roy's best friend, the boy who smiled and helped you bring your groceries in and always tried to convince you to let him do the dishes whenever he was over for dinner with the two of you. You'd never seen Roy out and about as Arsenal, but you'd imagined it, of course - how could you not? Glancing back into the din of the alleyway, you suddenly find yourself glad that you'd always remained somewhat unaware. Then, with a stuttering step back, you wonder if you'd ever really known Roy at all. How could you, when you only had half of him to love?

It feels an awful lot like guilt, the feeling rising in your throat. Maybe you understand what he meant when he said you were never really all there, you never really let him in.

Fortunately, the revving of Jason's car is unmistakable, a sound that pulls you from whatever spiral you were heading down as he pulls up beside you, getting out of the car with a scowl on his face just so that he can stomp over and open your door for you. The say he slams it shut once you're in the car is the confirmation you need that you're in for a lecture tonight.

"What were you thinking?" Sure enough, as soon as Jason is in the driver's seat, he's taking off, speeding down the silent streets as he questions you.

"Was the costume change really necessary?" You reply, eyeing his civilian clothes. He shoots you a look.

"Couldn't exactly pick you up on the bike, could I? Hood saving a civilian in distress - sure. Telling you to hop on and giving you a ride home? That'd raise some questions." He sighs. You cross your arms and look out your window.

"I wasn't in distress," you mumble. Jason looks at you like he's never heard you say anything as stupidly petulant as that. You're not sure why - you know you've said worse.

"Why did you call me and not Roy?" He asks finally, his thumb tapping against the steering wheel as he bites his tongue, as he wills himself not to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you.

"Oh please, like he would answer," you scoff. And there's that look again, like you've said something unimaginable and Jason's trying to figure out if he's having some kind of waking nightmare. 

"I didn't realize you think that lowly of him," he says bitterly. You straighten, looking out the front windshield.

"I don't-"

"You do. You do if you think there'd ever be a day when you'd call and he wouldn't answer," Jason says firmly. You shift in your seat. 

"It's not his job to come running every time I need saving anymore," you point out sullenly. Jason barks out a laugh. You have a feeling he doesn't really find it funny.

"You didn't let him do that even when it was his job," he says. You scowl at him.

"I appreciate you doing this tonight, Jason, but I'd love to do it without the commentary."

"That's a shame. I wouldn't," he shrugs, pulling up outside your apartment building. You sigh and rub your temples.

"Don't mention this to him, alright?" You ask.

"You're joking."

"I'm really not," you say dryly. Jason fixes you with a glare. 

"Get inside safely," is all he says, and you're smart enough to know when you've hit a wall. Sighing again, mostly for show (and feeling vindicated when you see Jason's lips twitch into something that almost resembles a smile), you head inside. If you see Jason bring his phone to his ear to call someone, you pretend you don't. It might be easier that way.

Or, as it usually is, it may be a lot more difficult. By the time you're inside, tossing your phone and keys onto the side table and rubbing the back of your neck in a vain attempt to rid yourself of the tension there, there's a figure ripping your balcony door open and tumbling through into your living room.

You'd scream, surely, if you'd had even a moment to think before Arsenal is all over you, crowding you against the wall of your home with his hands cupping your face, going on about how worried he was when Jason called him.

"Roy-" you start.

"Are you ok, baby? Are you alright? He got to you in time, right? Nothing happened - I, god, please tell me nothing happened, - are you hurt, baby? Are-"

"Roy," you say again, putting your hands over his where they still cup your cheeks protectively. His mouth snaps shut, sure, but his eyes flit over your figure, again and again and again, as if to find some sort of damage that he missed the first dozen times. You stare at him, at the wild look behind his mask and the red leather that covers his chest and stretches across his thighs.

"You… look good," you say simply. He blinks, staring at you.

"What?"

"I've never seen you like this before. You look good," you clarify. It's Roy, you know - the man you lived with, shared you bed and your life with for so long. But somehow, the masked figure in front of you feels more like a stranger than you could've anticipated. Maybe knowing Roy but not Arsenal really was a mistake - maybe you really did only ever have half of him.

Arsenal sighs, pulling away from you and stepping back to sit on the arm of your couch, taking his cap off to run a hand through his hair and stare at you. 

"Why didn't you call me?" He asks.

"I didn't know you'd answer." With the way he flinches at that, you suddenly wish you'd lied. Not that he wouldn't have realized. His shoulders drop, his head hanging low as he stands and makes his way back towards your balcony.

"Roy, I -" you start, the words catching in your throat. "I'm sorry." That's enough to make him freeze.

"What?"

"I was wrong."

"What?"

"Oh, fuck off," you scoff, but he doesn't miss the lack of bite in your voice. "It… probably should've been you I called tonight."

"Why didn't you?" He asks again. You think about snapping at him, about saying that you just told him and surely he can't be that stupid and-

"I don't care as much about what Jason thinks of me," is what you say instead. You're not sure who's more surprised. Arsenal steps towards you, settling back down onto the arm of the couch and reaching a hand out to you as if you'll still come when he calls. When you walk forward, standing between his parted legs and letting his hand curl around your waist, you're not sure how it all happened. 

"What do you mean, sunshine?" He coaxes. You grab onto his shoulders with just a bit too much force, as if that anchor will stop you from baring your soul to him the way you should've so long ago.

"I care about what you think of me," you say simply. "I care that you think I can take care of myself… and do this on my own."

"But you don't have to, baby," he says it so softly, gentle in a way that feels new coming from him.

"Well," you clear your throat, stepping away from him and smoothing down your shirt. "I do now, anyway." He doesn't take the bait, doesn't comment on the fact that he left you, decided he couldn't put up with this anymore and walked out. 

"You know I'll always come when you call," is what he says instead.

"I don't think you should have to," you reply. 

"I don't mind," he says, like it's that simple. Like loving and being loved is as easy as the way he sits there, open and waiting for you.

"I don't… think I want to be alone tonight," you say slowly, carefully, like you're teetering on some sort of ledge. Roy smiles, tilting his head a bit as he looks at you.

"I'll stay the night -"

"I want you to sleep on the couch," you say abruptly. He laughs. 

"I can do that sunshine. As many nights as you want."

"You'll get a bad back," you say, and there's a thickness in your voice, a dampness in your eyes that has you clenching your fists at your sides. "Your neck will hurt in the morning."

"I don't mind," Roy says again, like loving you is easy. You scoff and roll your eyes, but it's a small display amidst the haze of vulnerability that's blanketing the two of you.

Stepping forward, you reach slowly to his face, fingers beginning to peel off his mask.  He lets you - and you kick yourself for being so surprised. Of course he would, always so ready to bare the layers of his soul to you. As you smooth a thumb over his now-exposed cheekbone, you wonder what other layers of his there are that he loves you enough to let you peel back. You wonder, in a way that should concern you, how many of your own layers are fraying and thinning underneath his love.

[chippedshake]

Ponyboy stands in front of the mirror, fifteen and one month old. His hair is longer than it used to be, and the still-blond tips brush his shoulders.

There are scissors in his hands.

"Glory, he looks different with his hair like that."

Ponyboy squeezes his eyes shut, hands gripping the sink for balance. The metal scissors clang against it.

"It used to look tuff. You and Soda had the coolest-lookin' hair in town."

He tries to imagine himself a year and a month ago. Squared off in the back, long at the front and sides. It looked real tuff.

He'd complained so much when he had to cut it off, making everything impossible for Johnny, and now he can't make himself bring it back to normal?

"Oh, come on, Ponyboy, it'll grow back."

It did. And now he doesn't know what to do with it.

"Oh shoot, it's just hair."

The front door slams open.

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!"

"I never shoulda showed you that," Steve grumbles

"Well, ya did, and now ya gotta deal with it." Ponyboy can hear the grin in Soda's voice.

Loud footsteps go into the kitchen.

"Hey, ain't Pony s'pposed to be home already?"

"Prolly is, just up in his room with a book. Wouldn’t notice a twister a foot away if he was reading."

Steve snorts. "You up for a game of cards?"

"Sure. I gotta go change first though."

"Ya mean you gotta go stick an ace in your shoe?"

"Somethin' like that."

Soda's voice trails away as he makes his way to his room, but Steve's has grown closer and closer, and Ponyboy knows he's going to see him and ask questions that he doesn't want to answer, but he can't move from where his hands still grip the sink, scissors trapped against it.

"Hey, kid." Ponyboy looks up and meets Steve's eyes through the mirror. He's standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, whole body tense with discomfort, his face drawn with the same worry that strings through his voice. "You want me to get Soda?"

Ponyboy shakes his head and tries to subtly wipe his eyes. It'd be a new low to cry in front of Steve.

Steve's eyes flicker from Ponyboy's face to the scissors in his hand and his ungreased hair. He grimaces when he notices the tears, like he's not sure what to do with them.

"You know, cutting it off don't mean you'll forget them. You've still got a lotta memories that ain't in your hair. Better ones, too."

Steve's tone is matter-of-fact, but soft, softer than it's ever been. To Ponyboy, at least.

Like how Dally's voice reached a high, pleading tone it'd never reached before when they were speeding down that dirt road.

"I know..." Ponyboy whispers, and Steve leans in to hear him better. "It's just the last thing I got from them."

"That ain't true," Steve says. "You got both of their jackets and that book y'all read in the church. You even got the pictures you drew of them."

"Yeah, I know. It just ain't the same." His voice still won't come out above a whisper, but Steve seems to hear him just fine.

"Shoot, kid, I know that." He steps forward and sits down on the closed toilet seat. "But you can't live your life for them. They're gone. And they ain't comin' back. If you wanna remember 'em the right way, you gotta forget them sometimes."

Ponyboy thinks about the last year. About his bookmark that's been on page 118 for five months because Johnny would never get to read any pages after. About all the movie posters he's seen come and go because it wouldn’t be the same to watch them without Johnny. About the blade that's always in his back pocket that he can't stand to look at. About the time he brawled with Curly and then started crying because Dally had been the one to teach him how to throw a punch.

About how every time he looks in the goddamn mirror, he gets scared by his own reflection and remembers the church.

Maybe Steve's right. Maybe if he wants to start living normally again, he needs to forget them sometimes.

"This just ain't us. It's like being in a Hallowe'en costume we can't get out of."

Johnny might never get out of his costume, but Ponyboy could. And he would do it. For Johnny. Because he wouldn’t want Ponyboy to live as a shell of who he once was.

But when he meets his own eyes in the mirror, he knows he can't bring himself to do it.

"Steve, you ever cut hair before?"

He looks up in surprise, and for a moment Ponyboy's scared he's going to laugh at him. Then he stands up and holds his hand out for the scissors.

"Can't imagine it's harder'n fixin' up a car."

[inkyycapp]

Yokai!matsu kidnapping reader..? It ticks a few things at once. Oh! Oh! They're kidnapped cos they were found injured, but even after they've healed the yokai brothers (seperately) refuse to let them go.

Cough, cough. I love this, cough.

You're getting hcs too.

Ahem

Slight notice! I did some minor research for this, but even then I'm still unsure !! If anything is wrong please do tell me !!

(Uh so, really bad weather rn. Wifi going in and out and tornadoes lurking around, so, like that's rad ig !! Forgive me.)

Tw/Cw: Injuries, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome if you squint, manipulation(?), desperation, spelling/grammar(?), probably a little or a lot ooc I'm terrible at telling !! Forgive me !!

Youkai!Matsu x Injured!Reader

( Yokai!Matsu but used Youkai for letter colors..:D )

Small reader context !!

For whatever reason you're in the mountains doing whatever your mortal self does up there. A sharp pain shoots through your leg causing you to slip. Your foot set off a bear/fox trap. A group of bandits or just overall bad people--who one would assume set the trap--find poor injured you.

You don't have much on hand. Maybe you have a weapon, maybe you don't. But, regardless of how hard you fight, there are just more of them the there are of you.

Osomatsu

Oni

-He doesn't hate humans, but he doesn't actively like them either. He's more neutral about it.

-Like, he wouldn't go out of his way to help/save them, that's way too much work for him. But, he also wouldn't go out of his way to kill someone unless they really pissed him off.

-Doesn't really understand humans, but somewhat understand and takes a small liking to bits of their culture and activities.

-Actually fairly in with the times, but doesn't really try enough to be in with the times, y'know?

-Obviously takes part in gambling with the humans regardless of the time period.

-He finds that you're injured and probably not going to make it out of the situation alive.

-While at first he's slightly indifferent about your situation, he recognizes you from the village below. He probably asked for money and you gave it to him, or maybe you work at one of the place he frequents, but for whatever reason, he may be persuaded to help.

-You're already unconscious and he can't help but feel pity for you. Pretty nasty leg injury. Maybe he should help.

-And, so, he does!

-After attending to your Injuries best he could, he decided to wait for you to come around. He'll admit, the patch up was sloppy, but it did the job, that's what matters.

-Eventually, you'd come around and find yourself face to face with the devil himself. Whether fearful or not, this would take some...adjusting.

-Compared to the known sterotype, he seems more lax and less...demonic.

-He finds you interesting. Somehow, that curiosity hadn't faded one moment since he's found you. Expect some questions personal, even perverted, or not.

-Dislikes when you get up or move around without his help. Though, more chill and just lightly scold you for straining yourself.

-Then, soon, one day you're all better. But, he doesn't want you to leave. How strange. He didn't think he'd be this...attached to someone like yourself. Not like that, bit it's weird to him.

-He had seen humans come and go--grow old and die. He's never been this comfortable with humans before he'd met you. He doesn't want you to leave. Will you ever see each other again after you part ways? Probably not, but he doesn't want to take that chance.

-So, you can't leave just yet.

Karamatsu

Shikigami

-Karamatsu loves humans/humanity the MOST out of this list. He often tries to be 'in' with the culture no matter the time period. He goes through many "phases" trying to be what the humans deem is cool in certain points of time.

-He loves to collect and tell stories that humans tell, though can sometimes stretch it a little for a more theatrical performance.

-He often tries to interact with people and walk amongst them. But, it usually never goes well.

-His brothers often tease, but he's restless in his search for a human Karamatsu boy or girl.

-When he found you in the snow plains, a red staining the snow around you, he didn't hesitate to check out the scene.

-A group of people trying to take advantage of a defenseless Karamatsu boy or girl !! Of course he felt the need to intervene and help the poor soul.

-He manages to scare off the bandits, but by the time he gets to you, you're already out. It pains him to see such a beauty in so much pain.

-Karamatsu, without so much as a second thought, takes you somewhere much safer. A nice small cabin deep in the woods. That's where he nurses injured you back to health.

-At first, you're probably shocked, but maybe around the first week mark, you'll probably get used to it. If not, don't worry! You'll have a long time to adjust!

-He's very curious about you and the humans you surround yourself with. His knowledge of the culture is a little outdated, not by much. Still, it's nothing compared to understanding the real thing.

-He doesn't like when you try to get up. You need to recover. You'll probably hurt yourself! Don't worry, he'll do it for you!

-Honestly, just wants you to be safe. By far, you're the first human that he's ever gotten this close with--both metaphorically and literally.

-He just wants to keep you safe. There are monsters lurking both human and spirit. Surely you know.

-Karamatsu had already taken a liking to you since he met you, but over the time of your recovery, he's grown too attached to let you leave.

-You'll stay, won't you?

Choromatsu

Tengu

-Also kind of neutral, more lenient towards pretty humans. It's so painfully obvious, his brothers tease him about it, though he's incredibly indenile.

-While claiming he doesn't have an obvious leniency towards pretty humans, it is obvious to literally anyone. Including the mortals down in the villages.

-Choromatsu won't go out of his way to harm anyone he considers "pretty or cute", though his idea of pretty and cute is complicated! Not always about looks, but mannerisms, actions, etc.

-He spots you before. And, he folds at first glance. It's not difficult to be encouraged to help you. You're practically a sparkly treasure to be collected and safe guarded.

-But, then he watches as you're injured self begins to get surrounded by the group that seemed to have caught you.

-Choromats had quickly intervened, chasing off the group (probably off a cliff), before returning back to you.

-Laying in the snow, you were out cold and didn't seem to respond at all, your pulse being the only thing noting you're still alive.

-Won't deny, he was absolutely panicking at first, figuring out how to clean your injures properly.

-Eventually, he does somewhat figure it out, and once you're stable he takes that time to breathe. And, well, admire your sleeping form. Not in a creepy way, but just studying you.I

-When you do come around, he's trying and failing with his words for a moment.

-Takes care of you, and while he does often nag you, he's more so worried about how your recovery is coming along.

-Tends to kinda hover, keeping a close eye on you, telling you to lay down and get rest and that he can do whatever it was you wanted to get up to do.

-Will refuse to let you get up and do anything for yourself. Why have you do it when you have him? A literal waste, really!

-Even if he sees your coming around and the healing process is moving quicker than he wants, he still refuses to let you do anything.

-Now comes the time when you're ready to leave the nest. Pun.

-He obviously begs you to stay, much without words. Choromatsu doesn't want you to go now that he's oh so attached! You can't go. You won't leave, will you?

-Please don't leave .

Ichimatsu

Kitsune

-Ichimatsu, opposed to Karamatsu, probobly hates humans/humanity the most on this list.

-Often times, he was the cause of some humans lost or missing on the mountain. Though, he wouldn't go out of his way for anything unless angered or maybe he just felt malicious that day.

-Humans find him captivating despite his dislike for them. Even so, he won't admit it, but they do fascinate him on some occasions.

-He spots the bandits first, then you after he gets rid of those loud bandits that woke him from his nap. He considers getting rid of you, too.

-But, you're asleep. And, it seemed your leg is caught pretty badly. It doesn't seem like you'll be able to move far with your leg like that. You'll probably be dead in a matter of hours. He doesn't have to do a thing.

-No, he doesn't feel bad for you. Not one bit. You're just an unlucky human caught by the foot like some poor rabbit.

-Ichimatsu does somehow end up carrying you off elsewhere--somewhere more comfortable. Don't be mistaken, he may be helping you, but no further than this.

-Once you're safe in the small cabin, he does the bare minimum with your injuries and once your stable, he leaves.

-You'll wake up alone, and it'll probably be like that for maybe a few hours before you're visited by a stranger.

-Ichimatsu takes care you you between visits, though he doesn't speak to you often. You're probably scared being so close to a monster like himself.

-But, you grow comfortable in his presence and attempt to talk to him. Something he finds real odd, but almost sweet. He still doesn't talk to you though, but he almost wants to.

-His visits grow more frequent, and he even began bringing you gifts. Like dead animals. But, it's the thought that counts!

-He ends up more attached than he would've liked to admit. And, unlike some people on the list, he's more blunt that you remain here with him.

-You'll be stuck with a monster trash like him, but at least here he can keep you warm and fed.

-You're staying put. There's no reason for you to leave anyways.

Jyushimatsu

Inugami

-Honestly, it doesn't matter to Jyushimatsu. He's fairly friendly to any and all who walk in his path. Many run, but it doesn't bother him much.

-Though, if he had to love one thing about them, he absolutely loves their sports and activities. Often goes with Karamatsu to go take part in "human activities".

-But as one can assume, they get comically outed.

-Is fairly kind opposed to some on this list. He won't go out of his way to harm humans regardless how he feels, though when it comes to helping it's a 50/50. Normally at least tries. But, if he doesn't like you, he'll probably just watch with a lead stare.

-When he found you in the snow, you were surrounded, and he had accidentally hit one of the people with a baseball. Completely by accident. But, kinda thinks maybe the accident wasn't that much of an accident.

-Ends up completely making a fool of the group when leading them away. But, he quickly returns to where you had been laying.

-Similar to Choromatsu, he panics at first and is so unsure about how to go about this situation. Obviously he doesn't want to make it worse, but he really doesn't want you to die.

-He carries you off to the small cabin to tend to your wounds. It's sloppy patch-job, but it's alright.

-Watches you while you sleep. Pokes you now and again. When you don't move for too long Jyushimatsu does tend to panic a little but settles when you finally take in that breath of air.

-When you do wake up, he's happy you're up and not dead. Sure, he may not feel too bad if you died, but only because he didn't have a close enough connection to care, but that wouldn't mean he wouldn't care.

-Jyushimatsu tries to stay the entire time your recovering. While he does hover a little, he's more considerate of your space.

-Does whatever he can to make you laugh. Whether it's acting out a skit, telling jokes or just being goofy.

-Doesn't care if it makes him look dumb. As long as he at least gets a smile out of you it doesn't matter.

-Gets way too attached way to quick. And, when you're all better, he gets a little (lying) clingy.

-Whines and may even howl like a kicked puppy. Might even do tricks if it gets you to stay.

-Don't leave yet!!

Todomatsu

Baku-Danuki

-Todomatsu doesn't hate them, but he doesn't care for them either, similar to Osomatsu. However, he's more in with their culture, more so than Karamatsu. Only because he thinks it's cute.

-Prefers some time period clothing to others and can tend to stand out, but language is definitely up to date.

-He views humans/humanity as beneath him, or simply to play into his enjoyment. He has no issues getting rid of anyone that doesn't gives him what he wants out of an interaction. Absolutely stone cold.

-He spots a few humans gathering around, and grows curious as to what grabbed their attention.

-Their wares seem to interest him. Then, there's you. After disposing of the others, he's left with unconscious you. What to do with you.

-Well, you could be useful. You'll pretty much be indebted to him for saving you. Or, at least you should be.

-So, he drags you away from the scene, tenderly caring to your wounds, putting on a sweet and kind persona.

-When you awaken, he greets you gently, coming forward as the one who saved your life after he found you on the brink of death in the snow.

-Skeptical or not, you come around and thank him however you would. Already gaining praise from you. Admittedly, the praise feels...nicer than it should. He brushes it off, what else can he get from you.

-He slyly asks you questions, gaining more information of your personal life over a week, maybe two.

-You get up to do something, and being the ever so kind savior, he takes you back to bed, doing the task for you instead. Not that he wants to. He's playing the long game with your little life.

-But, you thank him, telling him just how kind he is. Todomatsu can't help but grow addicted to that feeling. Being appreciated and validated.

-Slowly, but surely, he begins to grow a bit (a lot) attached. He didn't think it was possible. But, soon he doesn't see you as just a human, but as you.

-Once you get better, he does contemplate poisoning you to get you to stay. Not much to kill you, but enough so he could still take care of you.

-Todomatsu doesn't do it. But, he has heavily considered it.

-He will try his damndest to get you to remain in this little cabin with him.

-You can't go yet! You need him!

So funny that Osomatsu and Karamatsu are my favorites in general, but Todomatsu is my favorite to write for, and Jyushimatsu is my favorite to draw. What.

I still dislike Choromatsu. There is no reason for it.

Anyway if you're here, try Arizona RX Energy Herbal Tonic Tea. It's so damn good. That's all lmao !!

[nyoomfruits]

25, landoscar!

25. “Can I just keep you?” “It doesn't work that way.”

Oscar finds Lando on the curb outside of the club, hunched forward, a little ball of black fabric and curls. “Hey mate,” He says, stepping off his bike, parking it against a wall before making his way over to him.

“Bleh,” Lando says, to his knees. “Lea’ me ‘lone.”

Oscar nudges his foot against Lando’s thigh. “Can’t, unfortunately. Promised Max I’d get you home safe.”

Lando’s head shoots up, his eyes bright and mouth slightly parted. “Oscar?”

“Yeah, bud. Max called me, said he needed someone to take you home. You okay?” Oscar kneels down in front of Lando, eye sight. Checks him over. He looks okay, aside from being absolutely fucking sloshed.

“’M fine,” Lando mumbles, tips forward a little, towards Oscar. “It’s just. Everything’s spinning. Like. Fast. Sooooo fast.”

“Oh no,” Oscar says, rather deadpan, trying and failing to subdue the smile that tugging at his lips. He should be annoyed, maybe, about being dragged out of bed at 3 in the morning because his flat mate is ready to pass out in the middle of the street and there’s no one else to get him home safe. But like, it’s Lando. He hasn’t really figured out how to be annoyed at Lando yet.

“Yeah,” Lando says, miserably, looks up at Oscar with big, sad eyes. “Like those horses. That go in a circle. You know? They’re like on a platform and they just go weeeeee,” Lando makes a spinning motion with his finger.

“A carousel,” Oscar says, getting up and extending a hand towards Lando. “C’mon, let’s get you up, yeah? I’ll take us home.”

“Home,” Lando sighs wistfully, taking Oscar’s hand in his and letting himself be dragged upright.

And god, it gets Oscar every single time, how fucking beautiful Lando is. Even now, with his shirt buttoned up wrong and a mysterious stain on his jeans and his hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes slightly unfocused he’s the most gorgeous think Oscar’s ever seen.

Life would be so much easier, Oscar thinks, if he didn’t have such a truly embarrassing crush on his flat mate.

“Bike’s over there,” Oscar says, tearing his eyes away from the curl stubbornly stuck to Lando’s temple.

“Ah yes, take me to your mighty stead. Wait, actually, does that make you my white prince on a charming horse? Wait, no, white horse on a charming… No, that’s not it either.” Lando frowns deeply.

“Sure,” Oscar says, smiling fondly as he pushes his bike in front of Lando and Lando clambers on. “I’ll be you prince charming. Now please hold on tight, yeah? No ‘King of the world’ shenanigans like last time.”

“Boo,” Lando says, but dutifully wraps his arms around Oscar’s waist, slipping his hands into the front pocket of Oscar’s hoodie. “Nice. Hand warmer.”

Oscar merely rolls his eyes and kicks off the curb, ignoring the flutter his heart makes at the feeling of Lando’s hands on his stomach, almost burning through the fabric of his hoodie. There’s only a little wobble before he gets the bike properly going, getting better and better at biking places with someone on the back mostly because Lando doesn’t have a car and Oscar has a hard time saying no to him.

Lando lets his head flop forward, against Oscar’s back, sighs happily into the fabric of Oscar’s hoodie. “You’re the best, you know. Like, an angel. Prince Charming. Prince Angel Charming.”

Oscar snorts, steers the bike down the abandoned streets towards their apartment.

“I wish I could like, keep you,” Lando says, leaning his head on Oscar’s shoulder, his breath only inches away from Oscar’s face, brushing against his cheek with every exhale. “Like, make you small and put you in my pocket and then I could take you out if I was sad.”

Oscar shakes his head, smiles to himself. “I don’t think it works that way, mate.”

“Bleh,” Lando says, rolls his head off of Oscar’s shoulder and flops it against his back again. “The world sucks.”

“’M sorry,” Oscar says. He steers the bike into an alley, narrowly avoids a fallen over trash can.

“’S okay. Sucks a little less with you in it,” Lando mumbles into his hoodie.

Oscar smiles a little sadly. Lando says things like that sometimes. Most often when he’s drunk. It’s. Nice. But it’s not. He doesn’t mean it the way Oscar means it. Which is fine. Oscar’s made his bed and flopped the fuck down onto it from the first time he met Lando and thought oh. It happens, when you pine for someone who can have whoever they want.

But still. He wishes, sometimes. Hopes. It’s stupid, anyway.

“Yeah,” Oscar says, pulling the bike to a stop in front of their shitty little apartment, savoring the feeling of Lando plastered against him for one last second before they have to step off the bike. “Same.”

[fairykazu]

kazuha's message: hey (with rizz) masterlist ++ wc: 1.3k this reads off like a dork diaries book nvm, i reread it. it's corny but it's fun! ++ part two

the arcade was a place that kazuha vowed to never ever visit again and no one ever knew why. anytime his friends– or anyone really, wanted to go to the arcade, they had to make sure the arcade had other activities to do because no matter how hard they tried, kazuha refused to even put a foot near a machine or step on the shape patterned carpet. even the carpet gave the poor guy ptsd. 

well, that was until you came into the picture. kazuha has been pining over you since freshman year had started and the both of you are now seniors? the struggle between his neverending grudge against arcades and his limitless love for you to a point his feelings for you bled into his creative works. god, to get this straight, kazuha still despises the arcade, in fact, if you never mentioned you liked it, he wouldn’t have even mentioned he was an absolute monster at the first-person shooting games that he never learned the name of– just calling it, “my game”...

 or he could just play space invaders. 

to put it simply, he doesn’t know how the infatuation or the c-word (crush) really started. it just blossomed in his heart one day and he ached ever since. well, he did remember that he admired you for your ambitious nature which contradicts soft actions whenever you scold your friends for their reckless behavior. the more he thought of you, the more he desperately wanted to be your friend and maybe, something more.

like knowing the real you who doesn’t have to hide your smile when you laugh! or hell, he just needs to be your friend to forget the scenarios he made up of happening if he did ask. of course, none of it would really happen. but imagine if he asked, you laughed in his face and pointed at him, then he digs a hole, crawls into it and dies. then he didn’t really die but he woke up to you throwing dirt in his face and then he really dies. but not because of being suffocated by dirt, but because he died of pure EMBARRASSMENT. 

or what if you’re like “you’re a freak, kaedehara!” and he would never live it down. he’d be called “freakster kazuha” or “freakdehara!” down the halls while he shoved his face into his hands and cry. well, of course, you aren’t mean. what if you accept being friends– wait why does this scenario sound good? 

BUT !!! 

there it is, the big old “but” stopping kazuha to ever build up the courage to be friends. wait, why do all these endings sound really bad? 

kazuha slapped his face, trying to fight against his anxiety that is willing to drown him in insecurities. he will ask you out… 

to be friends! 

***

it took him a while, embarrassingly to admit. 

there’s a specific memory that he keeps reminding himself of and he trips over it all the time. (he actually trips !!  it’s terrible to be him but at least it’s funny to watch!) 

 it was a monday morning. it could’ve been a tuesday but he was extra tired so it was definitely a monday. he was sleep deprived because he was spending the evening pulling an all-nighter, being studious– 

but ! 

he was also sneaking in a game session with his friends… at three am. it was evident with the way he slumped through the halls, ignoring the stares thrown his way, and how his eyes were weight down, nearly drooping back to sleep.

it was as if heaven heard his call. cue the heaven gates’ tune (. an angel flew through the halls– it was you, you beamed him with motivation. his slouching, some might say terrible posture, immediately straightened, his eyes widenended and his breath…

“heizou, heizou… how’s my breath?” kazuha exhaled and heizou’s face scrunched up as if it was rotten and sour. how terrible! 

the brunette took a step back from kazuha, holding his nose. “it stinks, kazuha. did you even brush your teeth?” 

it … 

stinks (O_o) ?! 

heizou stifled a laugh while the silver haired male’s face dropped. oh god, kazuha could imagine it now, what if he asks to hang out, when you were going to accept but you see the obvious, green fumes coming out of his mouth. before you could say anything, then he killed you with his stank breath!

alert!!!

…where’s the breath spray??? 

IT’S AN EMERGENCY! STAT!!!  

 “give me your mint spray!!” kazuha protested, already yanking heizou’s bag off his shoulder.

heizou dug through his bag, handing kazuha the spray. before giving it to him, he joked, “are you finally rizzing them up?” kazuha frowned, 

“... give me the spray. do i smell good? do i look good?” he took the spray and quickly sprayed it in his mouth. he coughed as heizou analyzed him, supposedly. 

“kind of, yeah i guess. oh and they’re walking away.” 

“NOOOOOOO.” is what kazuha wouldve said if you weren’t actually walking towards him. really? god has answered his prayers. thank you barbatos, thank you morax, thank you baal, thank you focalor- 

“hey, kaedehara!” 

“hey beautiful. i mean, the sky is pretty beautiful… and good morning, [name]. ” kazuha cleared his throat, stumbling over his words. it was like the devil took over with the way almost a good amount of his friends saw him pull off the biggest fumble of the century. xinyan patted him on the back, whispering in his ear, “good save.” 

scaramouche quipped back, “it’s cloudy. they definitely heard that.” 

“you’re silly today but you’re actually in the way of my locker.” 

it was a win but at what cost… 

***

“silly isn’t a compliment, kazuha. maybe they were trying to call you crazy politely,” scaramouche said, picking at the lunch food. jeez, it’s like the school is trying to kill people with soggy cheese pockets. 

xinyan defended kazuha as he curled into a ball so he could roll out of teyvat. “but like scaramouche, [name] does say silly alot.” 

“who do they say it to mostly?” 

“... that doesn’t matter!!! because kazuha has game!” 

“last night?” 

“that doesn’t count. it was four am, he was having an all-nighter before the games– it was ap bio and ap lit!!!” 

xinyan, please admit you’re losing. it’s so over… 

besides, scaramouche countered with the fact he took five aps and he managed to win the rounds over and over. 

what a show off.

*** 

he shook his head, trying to dismiss what he did. he can’t because it was last week. 

when he actually managed the courage to ask to be friends, he casually leaned on his locker and waited for you to come to him like the total cool guy he is… 

as the blossoms suddenly surround you both, you fawn over him and then while you almost trip, he catches you and you swoon. “hey [name], heh,” he said in a deep, totally-charming-hunk of a voice. “want to be friends?” 

you giggle in response, twirling your hair, until you accidentally slipped on a banana that somehow ended up there. a push of confidence overtakes him as if it was a gust of wind, he caught you with grace. your whole face flushed as you bashfully smiled and thanked him profusely. he just basked in the praise and attention you gave him like a proud, not at all needy, dog. 

that is what kazuha wants to believe happened. but out of his dreamscape and into reality, you were the one who asked him to hang out and he jumped at the chance. like really, he was desperate from anyone else’s point of view he looked like a pitiful dog. “hey kadehara?” you asked, immediately kazuha pretending last week was a dream but he stepped aside. “oh no! hey, wanna hang out with my friends and i? it would be fun, right?” 

kazuha’s face dropped, he wasn’t the best at hiding his expression when it came to you.“yes! ahem, i mean, yeah, sure. what’s your ig?”

“143[name]! see you saturday?” 

“you can count on it. oh, someone’s calling me.” no sound from his phone nor a vibration.

(he squealed and danced in the courtyard. scaramouche has it recorded.) 

[miniwheat77]

Power Hungry. (Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, non con, virginity loss, Graves is pushy, military talk, blood, violence, no minors- you know the drill!

Soap is not dead on this blog, he’s alive and well. That was not canon here! XD NOT EDITED

It’s no secret that Commander Graves has a thing for you.

He has since the day he met you.

He didn’t care who was around when he flirted with you. He didn’t care who heard. You didn’t mind him or his flirting at first. You got along with him pretty well. You didn’t see him too much because you were apart of task force 141 and he was with his own group. But that didn’t mean you didn’t like him. You of course had no intentions of ever pursuing his advances. You were a scared virgin and that was that.

Things changed when he took over Alejandro’s base and attacked Soap.

He held you inside Alejandro’s base alongside him. Had you tied up. He killed many innocent people and threatened you. Held a gun to your head.

It was a weird day when Soap and Rudy said he died in the tank, and you heard nothing about him for months.

Until you were sitting in that office talking to Shepherd.

“Without an army you’ve got nothing.” Gaz spoke. You were standing next to him. “Wrong again boys.” When Graves appeared on screen your stomach fell. Knowing what he’s capable of. What he said he’d do to you if you didn’t cooperate. You tried to hide yourself behind Gaz. “Un-fucking-believable.” Soap groans. “Soap… you miss me?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he says it. You hear nothing but ringing in your ears for the next few minutes. Not until you hear your name and freeze up.

“Is that Y/N behind you, Gaz?” Graves smiles. He bites his lip and you freeze. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on. Let me see her. Show me that pretty face.” Gaz backs himself up into you. Giving you a chance to get out the door without being seen anymore by him. You’d have to thank him later. “It’s alright. She’s got some hard feelings.. I’ll make it up to her.” He smirks. “Fuck off.” Gaz growls. “You tied her up and threatened to kill her, I hope the next time she sees you she shoots you.” Soap rolls his eyes. Graves laughs on the other end.

———

You’re stood next to Gaz when Graves tries to shake his hand. Gaz doesn’t make a move and you have to stifle back a laugh. You can tell it eats Graves alive that none of you will be nice to him, but that’s not something that’s going to change. Not ever. His betrayal was unforgivable.

When Makarov got away, the task force stepped back. They had no intel, no leads. Nothing. Shadows were staying on the base with 141 and you had live alongside them until they went elsewhere. So you kept to yourselves mostly. You did your very best to avoid Graves. Until you couldn’t. You were on watch, but your partner had changed. You had no idea who was waiting up there for you. Who you’d be on watch with for the next couple of hours. You expected maybe Captain Price or another shadow. But you didn’t expect him to be waiting there for you.

His smirk was knowing, he’d purposely put himself as your partner on watch from here on out and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Why couldn’t he have been a good guy? Someone you could trust?

He stands up from his chair. His smile beaming as he made his way toward you. “Y/N.. how you been honey?” He smiles. By the time he comes to a halt there’s barely a foot of space between the both of you. Which gives you the perfect distance for a right hook. He doesn’t expect it, not from you. You’re sweet and kind.

He stumbled back, recovering from the hit. His eyes are wide when he looks up at you. Wiping his now bloodied lip.

He laughs. In complete disbelief.

“My name is Y/N. That’s how you’ll address me. If you don’t want to sit on watch alone for the next couple weeks, you’ll shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” Your demeanor is strong. Your chest is puffed up and you’re standing your ground. Something he didn’t expect from you. You pass by him, going to sit down. “Oh come on, you’re not still mad are you?” You freeze up. Swallowing hard. “You tied me up, held a gun to my head, and than went after my task force. I’m fucking furious that you’re still standing on two feet.” The venom in your voice stings him a bit. How you could hate him so bad.

He knows he deserves it.

“What’s it gonna take huh? To prove myself to you?” He breathes. “You’re a fucking dog, a filthy traitor. You’re never going to be anything more than the dirt on my shoes.” You make your way for the door. “You and I? Will never be friends. Not ever. As far as I’m concerned, you’d have been better off if you pulled the fucking trigger.” You seethe as you slam the door shut, going down the stairs of the watch tower and leaving him up there alone. You knew you’d have to come back tomorrow, but for now, you needed to get away from him.

You think about him a lot. You always have.

You think about how flirty he was when you first met him. How he’d make you blush. He’d wink at you in passing and your stomach would fill with butterflies. You always thought it was a stupid crush but your virginity is what kept you away. You were scared to lose it, and avoided the topic at all costs.

Seeing him now makes you realize it was more than just a crush. You had real feelings for him deep down and his betrayal cut deep and hurt worse than anything you’d ever been through. If he liked you like he said he did, why was hurting you so easy? If you like someone, how could you? You lost sleep over it, and the time you thought he was dead, you dreamt of him. You would dream about how it was all a mistake, that it wasn’t real. How he’d come running to your aid and hold you close to him. Reassuring you it was all fake.

And than you’d wake up. And he’d be dead again.

He was a lot easier to get over when he was dead. It was easier to cope with because of his betrayal. You shouldn’t care that he was dead because of what he’d done and that’s how you got through the grieving process. But now, you didn’t know how to feel. He was alive but it seemed harder to cope with.

The next day on watch, you were up there first. He came inside but didn’t say anything to you. Thank god.

He leaves you alone for the most part. Only asking certain questions about how the base worked. You were short with him.

It went that way for weeks. You kept to yourself and so did he.

It was him who finally broke the silence.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you, you know.”

You turn to look at him, eyes darkening. For a second he thinks he made a mistake. But he doesn’t stop. “I.. I was just trying to scare you. So that you wouldn’t run away.” He swallows down a lump forming in his throat. “I knew you’d be pissed. Of course I did. But.. I thought maybe if I kept you close to me for long enough, you’d understand.”

He sighs. “I was delusional. I was terrified.” He looks down at his hands. “I acted purely out of fear, Shepherd told me about the consequences of what could happen if those found out about what had happened despite me not knowing. I was desperate to cover it up. He told me to kill you but I couldn’t. That’s why I kept you tied up. I didn’t want to.”

“He used me and threatened me. He blackmailed me because he made me apart of it. And Y/N.” He breathes. Looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for the hurt that I’ve caused you. It was never my intention, I tried to avoid it.”

You look down. It’s silent and he’s clearly waiting for you to say something. “What’s done is done.” You breathe. “Maybe you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. And maybe when you’re dead I’ll forgive you.”

And just like that, you’re gone again.

———

For the next week or so, he decides to get close to Gaz.

He offers to help him any chance he gets and Gaz always says no. But Graves jumps in to help anyways. It drives Gaz crazy at first, until he gets used to it.

Gaz is helping work on a Humvee and Graves is passing him tools, offering to be a runner if he needed anything. “This is about Y/N isn’t it?” Gaz asks out of the blue one day. “What?”

“You’re only being friendly to me because of her, right?”

Graves sighs. “Gaz. I’m trying to make it up to you guys. I know it’ll take forever, but I’m trying.” He mumbles. “What I did was fucked up and if the shoes were on the other feet I’d have put a bullet in my head already and I’m thankful you haven’t because I know you want to.”

“She liked you.”

Graves freezes up. “What?”

“She did. She had feelings for you. She buried them deep afterward but she did. Had nightmares about you for fucking months after you died.” Gaz mumbles. “I… didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Of course you didn’t, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” Gaz wants to ring graves neck for hurting you. You’re like his little sister and seeing you be in love with someone who’s so selfish eats him alive. “I’m trying here. Okay?”

“You scared her.” Gaz slides out from under the Humvee. It’s where he’d been working. He picks up a towel and wipes his hands off. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when you betrayed her. When you betrayed all of us. She kept a fake face on, made us all think she was okay when she cried herself to sleep for days afterward. She’d never been so scared, she didn’t know who to trust or what to do. Captain Price had to send her off on leave for a couple weeks so that she could recover. She tried so hard to hide how she felt. Seeing you probably eats her alive, and having to work alongside with you I’m sure has ruined any kind of healing she’s done.” Gaz shakes his head. “And what the fuck she ever saw in you…” he scoffs. Throwing the towel down. “She’d be better off if you had died in that tank.”

He walks away, leaving Graves standing there alone, again.

He hated how bad this task force hated him, but he understood.

Soap is who he approached next, trying to keep him company. But Soap barely showed him the time of day and when he did it was the bare minimum. Soap hated Graves. With a burning passion. But that didn’t mean he stopped. Soap did all kinds of chores all over base, so Graves started helping.

He worked alongside Gaz, doing grunt work in the shop where Gaz tried to learn everything he could about the Humvee’s. He helped Soap with chores around the base, every single day. When he wasn’t busy that’s what he was doing.

For two hours a day, he was sitting up on watch with you. He never said a word, only did what he was supposed to.

When it came to missions, he let Captain Price control everything. He told the Shadows to follow his orders and do what they’re told and Graves did too. He kept his mouth shut and did exactly what they wanted.

On these missions, Graves watches Ghost like a hawk. Making sure he was safe, taking down a couple men that sneak up behind Ghost along the way. Graves knows to keep his distance and try to make amends by staying away, Ghost is too dangerous.

At the end of the day, if Graves dies on a mission, not a single person is going to care. He did something unforgivable, something he can’t come back from. If one of them decides they’ve had enough of him one day and kills him, they’ll cover it up and said he died in action. And that will be the end of Phillip Graves. It eats him alive day and night, but nothing compares to the way he’s hurt you. He thinks about back then, the way you’d smile and blush in his presence, roll your eyes at his flirting. Now, you were cold. Falling in love with him, or catching feelings. He doesn’t know which.

Having feelings for him destroyed you. Turned you into a cold hearted person. Who killed and served like there was nothing to it. All of the life you’d once been full of was drained because of him. Because he was supposed to protect you, but he was the one on the other side of the gun to your head. He stabbed you in back and you trusted him so much.

“What do you want from me Graves?” Soap finally snaps one day. Graves is helping him clean up the mess hall. Soap is stacking the chairs up and graves is sweeping as he goes. “I don’t want anything from you.” He mumbles. “What? You’ve been following every single one of us around like a lost puppy doing anything and everything we say, if you think that’s how you’re going to win us over it’s not going to work.” He scoffs. Graves shakes his head. “That’s no my intentions, Soap.” He sighs. “Than what are you doing?”

“I just want to work alongside you guys without hating each other. I can’t take back what I did, but I can be better. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Soap rolls his eyes. “You betrayed us. We’re never going to like you. Not ever.”

“And that’s okay. But I’m going to do better and I’m not trying to prove that to you, I’m proving it to me.” Graves continues sweeping the floor. Leaving Soap with nothing else to say.

It goes on like this for months.

The task force worries of course, they don’t want to get comfortable with him because the last time they did that, he tried to kill all of them.

But they get used to it. To his help.

———

Graves follows after you. Hiding in the shadows. It’s late at night.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe he just isn’t thinking at all.

He knocks at your door quietly and you’re confused as you open it. But your heart rate picks up when you see who it is. What on earth is he doing at your door so late?

“Hey.” He breathes. He steps toward you and you hurriedly step back. “What do you want?” You say quickly. He raises his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to talk to you.” He breathes.

He can see your pupils are blown wide, you’re on edge. Had he really scared you that bad. He can see you clutching your sidearm. He sighs. “I swear I’m not going to do anything. You don’t have to be scared.” He breathes. “I’m not scared. The only thing between me and you is a bullet.” You breathe. “Just.. please. Talk to me?” He bites his lower lip, looking down at the ground. You sigh. “What do you want?”

He steps into your room, closing the door behind himself. “I just wanted to ask you..” he breathes. “Is it true you have feelings for me?”

“Had.” You finish.

“Okay.. so it’s true. You did have feelings for me.” He sighs. “Yeah. Until you betrayed us and put a gun to my head.”

He winces as the words leave your mouth. “I.. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just trying to scare you.”

He sits down on the edge of your bed, you’re standing in front of him, just a few feet away. “It worked.” Your eyes darken. You draw your gun from its holster, pointing it right at him. “Maybe it’s your turn.”

He closes his eyes as you move closer, pressing the barrel of your gun right to his forehead. He winces when you cock it.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

He reopens his eyes, seeing that your eyes have filled with tears. Your hands have begun to tremble. “You’re not sorry.”

“I am. I’ve never regretted anything more. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” He breathes.

Just as a tear slides down your cheek, you spin around to hide it. Wiping your cheek and shoving your gun back into its holster. “You need to go.”

“No.”

“Leave.”

“I’m not going. Not until you know how sorry I am.”

“Just go!” You wipe your eyes. You don’t want him to see you cry. “No.. not this time.” He breathes. He stands up, pulling you into him. You fight him until you’re sobbing so hard that you can’t contain it anymore and finally you relax back into him. He holds you against him while you cry. He pulls you back into the bed, your back against his chest as he holds you tight against him. You’re sitting in his lap but he’s got his arms wrapped around you. You’re still trying to fight him through sobs but you’re weak. He swallows hard, a lump growing in his throat.

Eyes fill his own tears. “I hate you.” You cry. “I hate you for what you did- I hate you for hurting me so bad.” You hiccup. “I hate you because I still care-“

You hang your head, trying your hardest to stop this panic attack.

He holds your arms to your side and keeps you there until your sobs quiet. Until you’re doing nothing but hiccuping. Thats when he finally stands up and sets you down. Kneeling in front of you. He takes your hands in his and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“You’ll never know how much I hate myself for what I did.” He swallows hard. You can see he’s got tear stains on his face. “You’ll never see how much it hurts me. Seeing you like this. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you so bad. And I swear to god on my life I’ll live the rest of it protecting you. You don’t have to believe me. But..” he grits his teeth. Trying to hold back his own emotions. “I care about you. And you don’t have to believe me. But I was never going to hurt you. I wanted you by my side. It’s why I kept you tied up. I want you, I’ve always wanted you to be with me. So.. forgive me, for what I’m about to do.”

You look confused, your heart has finally relaxed in your chest. “Wha-“

He stands up, pressing his lips to yours. You start to panic again, trying to push him away. But he forces himself on top of you. He forces you back onto the bed, using his weight to pin you underneath him.

He’d already taken his vest off. Leaving him in only a t-shirt and jeans. He reaches for his belt. Once you hear the rattle, your eyes widen and you try harder to push him away. “Wait- Graves wait!” You push him back. He only pins you down, pressing his lips to yours again.

He forces your pants down your legs, keeping his lips on yours.

You didn’t realize how strong he is. Because no matter what you do, you can’t get him off of you.

He grips the base of his cock, and just as he’s about to slide into you, you force your head to the side.

“Please! I’m a virgin!”

He freezes on top of you. You look up at him, and all he can see in your eyes is terror. He steps down onto the floor, quickly lifting his pants over himself. “W-what?”

You pull your legs up to yourself. Hugging them to your stomach. “I’m.. a virgin.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He back away further.

“Fuck.. fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking- I-“ he reaches quickly to buckle his belt, going for the door.

“Wait!” You stand up.

He freezes up, his hand on the door handle. “Don’t…” you freeze up. Unsure of what you’re about to do. What you’re about to let happen.

“Don’t go.”

He turns back to you, swallowing hard.

“You said… you won’t hurt me.” You breathe. “Y/N..” he trails off. Looking down at the ground. “I want you to do it.” You look up at him. His heart thumps in his chest and he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between you again. His lips are on yours before you have time to change your mind. He returns himself between your legs, exposing himself once more.

He presses the tip of his cock at your entrance. Looking down at you. He makes sure you’re wet enough, pressing himself inside of you. He tries to go slow but seeing you wince. He lowers himself into you. Covering your mouth and bracing himself before you have a chance to make any noise of protest. Thrusting himself inside of you. Your eyes widen and you cry into his hand but he shushes you, whispering into your ear to reassure you that it’ll only hurt for a minute.

And that fast, your virginity is gone. You’d given it to the person who hurt you the very most.

You look up at him. Eyes full of tears.

He finally moves his hand.

“Phillip.” You breathe. Hearing his full name come out of your mouth is foreign.

You wince as he slides out of you, thrusting back into you. “I trust you to take my virginity.” He clenches his eyes shut.

“But if you betray me again.” You whisper. “It will be me who kills you this time.” You look up at him.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, picking up his pace and thrusting deeper into you. Angling just right to hit that spot inside of you that has you crumbling. “You’re not going to have to do that. I can fix this.” He breathes. “I can’t take it back but I can be better. I swear.” He mumbles. Hips rocking lazily into yours. “I’ll show you.” He grits his teeth. The weight of him above you overwhelms you. You have to remind yourself why he’s there. Not to hurt you. But to make you feel good. You hold back all of the racing thoughts by focusing on the way he feels sliding into you. You can feel him pulsing against you, throbbing against your gummy walls. You swallow him up, clamping tight around him. It’s the most intense pleasure Phillip has ever felt. Ever.

The pleasure is white hot and it settles into your lower stomach, his too. Like an oncoming tidal wave. About to wash away all of the pain and hurt.

Each thrust he takes into you, you forget a little more. How could he make you feel so good but have hurt you so bad? Your lips part as he glides into your spongy spot, a gasp leaving your lips as your thighs start to shake beneath him. He knows he’s got you cornered. He’s going in for the kill.

You shake and whine. Mewling out his name and pleas. You’re panting out how good he feels inside of you and he’s so close to falling apart, he feels like he’s going to implode. He raises himself up, taking deeper thrusts into that spot that you like. He looks down at you. Seeing your lips slightly parted. Sweat forming at your hairline. It throws him into a daze. How pretty you are and how you’re letting him fuck you, you let him take your virginity and as far as he knows, you hate him. You wanted him dead. You take in a jagged breath, eyes going from his eyes to where the both of you now connect. Watching his cock slide in and out of you. He’s big. He stretches you out. It hurt at first but you’ve gotten used to it. You’re amazed by how fast the pain had subsided.

You claw at his back through his shirt, holding onto the fabric for dear life as he tears you to shreds.

“I’m… I- oh my god.” You inhale sharply. He clamps his hand over your mouth once more. Resting his weight on you and thrusting into you lazily. “It’s alright. Give yourself to me.” He mumbles. “Go on baby. Give it to me.”

Your eyes roll back before clamping shut. His eyes widen as you clench down around him. A gasp leaving his lips as you throb. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum too.” He breathes. He wraps his arm around you, holding you still and tight to him. You shake from your orgasm tearing through you. Your eyes open, going wide when he lets out a moan. You say something into his hand but he’s still got it over your mouth. His thrusts come to halt as he reaches his high and you gasp as he cums inside of you. When he finally draws his hand away from your mouth, you’re too shocked to even know what to say. He presses his lips to yours and this time, you kiss him back.

He slides out of you, hearing you gasp as he does.

He moves himself to lay beside you, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like this.” He breathes.

You choose to say nothing. Not at first. You let what just happened sink in. Your chest feeling heavy once more.

You’re an idiot for trusting him with your virginity.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “Stop overthinking. Just relax. No thoughts, it’s just you and me.” He forces you to look at him.

You nod your head.

———

A few months go by.

The task force hates to it admit it, but Graves is an important part to the team. He’s pretty much redeemed himself, but they try to keep their guard up anyways.

Soap and Graves are walking along the side of the building when they hear shoes scuffing across the floor.

“You know we all know about you and Y/N right?” Soap brings up out of the blue. Graves feels his blood going cold. “I didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Yeah. For a couple weeks now. Gaz wanted to ring your neck.” Soap laughs. “I’m the one who stopped him.” Soap sighs. “I hope you prove us all wrong. Because if you do anything to her..” he trails off. “You already know.”

“Yes I do.”

They hear the sound again but this time they decide to check it out. Surprised when they see a new recruit crowding you.

“Something going on here?” Soap mumbles.

“No. We’re fine.”

“No! I said to leave me alone!”

Graves is quick to intervene. “Woah- you heard the girl. Back off.” He gets between the both of you. “You touch her again and I’ll cut your hands off. Understand me?” He crosses his arms over his chest. Seeing the new recruit with fear in his eyes. “Come on. Taking you to Price’s office.” Soap scoffs. Grabbing a hold of his shirt and tugging him along. “You alright? He hurt you?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“Cmon, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part two: Oxytocin

(One month later)

Rhiannon and Rhysand have fallen into a routine. Rhys life consists of therapy with Madja, training with Cassian, and returning to his work as High Lord. The only thing missing now is the pretty female he calls his wife.

Warnings - NSFW, sexual tension, mutual masterbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, and as always unedited. Minors - shooo DNI

A/N - our first slightly spicy scene between two lovers who just can't communicate. This part was written with "Oxytocin" by Billie Eilish in mind.

Part One Part Three Part Four

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Rhiannon smiled as she walked out into the training room where a constant tug was coming from the bond.

She could hear Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand laughing. She could feel joy in her bones, lighting her spirit like a flame.

She rested her forearms on the ledge, leaning forward to watch her shirtless husband getting his ass handed to him by her brother. Mor appeared next to her, taking her left hand in her own and squeezing. "He's doing better today. Still a little slower than he used to be." Her bell-like laughter came. "His knees popped, Rhi."

Rhiannon covered her mouth, snorting before she began to laugh. Cassian had noticed her, sending her a wink before beginning to ref the sparing taking place again.

It took Azriel no time to throw Rhysand on the ground. "Gods you are so out of shape," Azriel helped him up. "Maybe you should be sparing your wife instead."

Rhiannon's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?! What the fuck does that mean?"

Cassian smirked. "It means the second your mate is around you stop training. Lazy brat. Relying on her oh so powerful husband for protection."

"I've been busy dealing with my duties, general." Rhiannon blinked at the three laughing males before giving Rhysand a look. Her eyes went from his head to his feet and back up before she smirked. "Besides, I could take him."

Silence fell over the training area.

Rhysand was nodding before he clicked his tongue. "Then come try, Rhiannon Darling." He snapped her illyrian training leathers onto her body, motioning for her to join them in the ring. "Come on, mate."

Rhiannon glared at him, walking to the ring as Azriel shook his head. "If you two do what you did last time you trained together, I'm going to take my own eyes out with a spoon."

Rhiannon smiled at her big brother, who glared at her in return. "That'd only stop you from seeing it, Azzie. You still have to smell and hear it." Azriel gagged loudly, shooting a look to a laughing Cassian before flipping all three of them off.

Rhys stood face to face with his wife, an ever growing smirk on his face. "You look lovely today, my dear. How was my uncle?"

Rhiannon rolled her eyes, taking the hair tie Cassian was offering her. "Oh. Charming as always. I had planned on going into town and spending your gold to make up for being forced to see him, but evidently, I will be nursing your wounds and looking lovely for that instead."

Cassian chuckled backing away. "Oh Rhys," the general spoke, "Rhi-rhi spent the last 50 years training with me daily to work out her anger. Have fun with that." The smirk her mate wore fell as she smiled sweetly at him. "Begin."

Rhys made the first move, wanting to get Rhiannon on the ground as fast as possible to prevent her from getting hurt. His arms went around her waist, locking tightly. Rhiannon recovered quickly, going on the defensive and slamming her foot into his and then her elbow into his lower stomach.

His grip on her loosened, allowing her to grab and twist one of his arms behind his back. He moved quickly, freeing himself from her grasp before tutting her from across the ring.

He struck first again, catching her into a forward bear hug and lifting her off the ground. Rhiannon looked to Cassian, slightly panicked, and he nodded at her. "You know how to get out of this, sis."

Rhiannon locked her feet behind Rhysand's knee pits and began digging her heels in. She heard her mate yelp and his knees slightly bent. She took advantage, throwing her body weight forward and knocking him onto his back on the ground.

She had pulled Rhysand's head into her shoulder and neck to protect him in the fall and unlocked her legs as quickly as she could. She moved to look down at him with a smile before realizing the position they were in.

Rhysand and Rhiannon were silent as she sat on top of him, hands having fallen to his chest. His hands were tightly locked on her hips. Their lips were inches apart. The tension between them could have been cut with the dullest of knives. Unknowingly to each of them, they were both craving each other. Desperate to touch each other. Rhiannon knew she needed to wait, though, despite the growing heat in her body. She was off of him instantly and moving quickly to the door.

She heard him calling her name, following after her, asking what was wrong, but she didn't stop. She knew if she did, her own selfish needs would get in the way of his healing. Opening a door and shutting herself into the spare bedroom she had moved into since his return, Rhiannon warded it from him before ripping her leathers off on the way to the bathroom.

—-----------

Rhys slammed the nearest object onto the ground before sitting on his bed. He was this close to her. This close to taking advantage of the opening the four of them had set up to get Rhiannon to kiss him and possibly touch him.

He felt like an addict without a fix the past week. He was ready to start trying physical intimacy with his wife, his beautiful selfless wife. He sighed and leaned back on the bed, tugging that bond between them gently and knocking on her mental shields.

"What are you doing, little nightingale?" Rhys felt his brows growing up as her emotions hit him tenfold. Arousal and need smacked him in the face as he found that one small gap she always left in her mind for him.

He wasn't prepared for the image that greeted him. His wife had her pretty little fingers buried in her cunt, her head tossed back in pleasure before she returned watching herself in the mirror imagining it was him fingering her instead of herself.

Rhysand moved his hands to his leathers untying them and freeing his aching cock from his pants before running his hand over the already leaking tip. He began to stroke himself in time with her movements as she rode her hand. He could feel how turned on she was, how needy she was, he could hear her moans. He could practically taste her on his tongue as his eyes shut, and he moaned her name softly.

He began speeding up his movements as he saw one of her hands squeeze her perfect tits and her fingers come out to play with that bundle of nerves he could use to make her cum within seconds. She was close, panting his name like a prayer over and over as if he was there. She was tugging the bond, accidentally allowing the overly active string of fate to send her pleasure straight to her mate.

He desperately wanted to be behind her with his hand in place of her own, her body pressed tightly against his larger frame as his long fingers pulled her apart and he whispered every single thing he'd be doing to her, but only if she was a good girl and came for him.

One more circle around her swollen clit was all it took for his wife to come undone on her own hands and fingers. He followed her over that edge, both of them moaning out each other's names. He relaxed back, breathing heavily and watching as his mate sat in the guest bathroom, shivering and coming down from her orgasm. He set the goal then and there as he saw her slick dripping down her thighs.

Within the next month, he'd kiss her, bring her back to their bed, and he'd at least taste her.

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[weebsinstash]

Ya know, I've made posts about the yandere Batfamily before, and I've been thinking lately about one person in particular, and I think I've decided that Alfred is probably the most dangerous and formidable person in that entire house and have been brainstorming what a formidable platonic yandere guardian sorta figure he would be

For one, he's the man that canonically kept THE Batman from going over the edge, basically THE sole reason Bruce Wayne grew into the man he is. Literally, in alternate universes where Bruce never had Alfred, he literally 9 times out of 10 becomes a murdering sociopath. Alfred doesn't just have intelligence, he has EMOTIONAL intelligence

We're talking about the tenured elderly man who is former MI6 and doesn't give a fuck about murder, has killed, and will kill again. Bruce finds someone attacking you, he'll beat them up and cart them off to jail to be arrested and rehabilitated. Alfred will pull a pistol on a robber and shoot him dead before he allows you to get even a single scratch on you, just puts the guy down, "oh dear, I suppose I'll be late making dinner tonight, it seems I'll have to give testimony to Mr Gordon again"

I've seen fics where the sidekicks kidnap Reader or disable them for Bruce's sake, but don't you think Bruce himself would cross that line for Alfred? This man cooks, cleans, does everything for him, is practically a second father and his greatest friend, really kind of RAISED HIM. I just picture Alfred getting attached to Reader like you're practically his grandchild and then you return to your normal life, move out after staying them for a period of time or whatever, and Bruce can tell Alfred is... out of sorts, a little sad frown on his old withered face as he absent-mindedly sweeps the same corner of the same room for an hour, sighing, thinking about how he wanted to teach you all sorts of things, but, you're just gone now. Siiiiiiiiigh. And Bruce can't stand seeing Alfred like, actually depressed, even making mistakes he doesn't usually make, dropping things, lacking his usual playful sarcastic wit, just kind of a shell of his former self. You don't think you'd be getting an extra super special Uber ride in the Batmobile from the Dark Knight himself after that?

But I also think Alfred would be capable of really putting his foot down. He once told a disrespectful Damian he should be thankful Alfred wasn't his father in a very "because I'd actually discipline you" coded sort of way, and, say Reader grew up without a dad, or any parents and maybe has some traumas and potential behavioral issues from that. I could see Alfred being the kindest, sweetest, most patient grandpa, teaching you how to bake, keeping you company in the library, teaching you all kinds of things, and then the second you do things like start getting drunk, acting out, THROWING things, then he's putting his foot down, "now you listen HERE! Your behavior is absolutely unacceptable and you will not be allowed to degrade yourself within the walls of this home!" and manages to simultaneously scold you without putting you down, leaving you in ashamed embarrassed tears over your behavior that you're standing there crying, and he pulls you to take a seat in a nice chair and starts combing your hair and telling you he just wants best for you while you're bawling for his forgiveness, and he tells you he's already forgiven you and that he can run you a nice bath before bed

I can see a captive Reader scenario where you manage to break out of the house while everyone else is gone and you think, oh, you're home free! Batman and everyone else is busy! Lost in your own hubris as if Alfred doesn't have perfect knowledge of everything in the Batcave including the equipment and vehicles. You're in an alley cornered by a bunch of drunks who just want to beat the shit out of someone and suddenly, is that Batman? Wait, the costume is different, and the height, and, the body shape, and, and, and it doesn't even matter because Alfred can still lay all of them flat, blood on his knuckles as he wearily regards you, "you're not going to make a tired old man have to carry you to the car, are you?" and after what you just saw, you know better than to put up resistance

But like I can't get over the idea of, Reader staying at the Wayne residence for a limited period of time, you're injured and Bruce is offering you safe harbor, you're being targeted by a specific criminal group and need protection until the thugs are caught, something along those lines, and, one day, when everything is better, you just. Leave unexpectedly. They had already offered you a permanant place in the house but you still seem to be falling into a depression until one day you're straight up gone, only leaving a note that Alfred is the one to find, only 3 word, "Thank you. Sorry." and hr suddenly??? Can't think straight??? You're gone??? Why??? Why didn't you tell them?? Are you hurt?? Did they do something wrong??? How is he supposed to know if you're sad or if you're hungry or if you're in DANGER if he doesn't know where you are and what you're doing at all possible hours?

Just visualizing the idea of Bruce coming home one day and you're suddenly in the house again and you're seeming very much distressed but Alfred is looking fit as a fiddle again and it is very extremely incredibly obvious to Bruce that Alfred straight up brought you back against your will. But. He doesn't care because he agrees with Alfred that OBVIOUSLY since you're a member of the FAMILY NOW that OF COURSE you have to stay in the house

Can you imagine yandere Alfred but Bruce and everyone else is just, totally normal and just hardcore mega coping with Alfred's sudden change in behavior and occasional questionable actions. One day Alfred is dusting and without turning around, "Master Bruce, would you care to fetch my granddaughter for me while i finish this room?" and Bruce is just like "granddaughter????" And Alfred looks to him like he just said something BEYOND stupid, "Yes, my granddaughter, about ye high, awfully broody much like yourself, currently housed in the spare second floor bedroom at the end of the hall on the right? You act as if she didnt help bake that casserole you and the boys absolutely devoured last night"

Nightwing going down into the Batcave for like actual mission stuff and Alfred is already using the Batcomputer to monitor all your online internet use. What's that, some young man is trying to slide into your DMs? O-oh no, there was, uh, suddenly a glitch and he received a threatening message with no traceable source that told him to stay the bloody hell away from you! Whoops!

You're just his captive little grandchild who he helps teach recipes to and teaching you anything you're curious about. You make an offhanded comment one day that you would've loved to learn to play piano "but I'm too old now/it's too late now/I probably wouldn't be any good at it" and later on, after Alfred has brought you back after trying to live alone again (you being drugged if need be), and when you wake up he's all smiles, telling you about all the new structure he's about to introduce to your life, and, of course, you have to pick a day of the week for your new (now mandatory) piano lessons :) on Mondays you'll go for walks and have tea in the garden, Tuesdays you'll read in the library, on Wednesdays you'll learn piano, on Thursday he'll teach you a new recipe every week, Friday--- this old man is gonna force you to be productive and happy is all I'm gonna say