#I would ask if anyone lives near me and wants him but uh

[thisonegirl]

Hello, whoever you are

pairing : touya “dabi” todoroki x reader rating : sfw warnings : mentions of death wc : 1.5k (edited) part I part II part III ps: yes, I'm aware that it's unlikely that he'd be able to speak this much but just pretend okay

Y/N’s body shook violently where she stood. 

Her mind spinning as the question of whether she was doing the right thing plagued her.

With the war being over and everyone worried about rebuilding their lives from the destruction, Y/N had a secondary worry. She had seen the destruction Dabi left and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was alive after all that happened.

In a singular moment of courage in her life, she asked. Such a simple action that she knew would have further repressed hence her fear, but she still did it. 

“How do you know him?”

She had been asked in return. And so the retelling of that story began. Luckily, she had no useful information so it wasn’t too bad that she hadn’t spoken up before but the guilt of having kept silent for so long gnawed at her conscience.

Now, she stood before the hospital with her feet glued to the ground beneath her, staring at the building that now held her… acquaintance? If she could even call him that.

“You’re the one who was asking about him, right?”

A soft yet raspy voice asked from beside her. Its sudden appearance startled her, making her head snap to the left to face its owner.

It was a boy. His hair was half white and half red and a burn scar marred the left side of his face. Y/N recognized him. She had seen him a couple of times on television and she knew that he was Endeavor's youngest son. The half-cold, half-hot hero. 

Remembering that he had asked a question, she snapped out of her trance just enough to provide a nod as a response.

“Are you going in?” He asked.

“Oh- Uh, I-I’m not sure,” she stammered. She wasn’t sure she was willing to face him. She didn’t even know if he wanted to see her. Especially since she so rudely sent him away that one night.

“Why not?” The question felt a bit intrusive but she responded either way.

“I don’t think he’d want to see me,” she explained.

“He doesn’t want to see anyone. He hates all of us actually but what matters is that we’re there regardless,” the softness of his tone soothed Y/N. The trembling of her body slowly eased as he offered a comforting smile.

“Wanna come in with me?” 

She nodded following him as they made their way inside the hospital. It was full, all of them were to be fair. She felt a bit relieved that she wouldn’t have to navigate these full halls in search of the correct room as the boy walked with confidence so she was sure he already knew the way. 

As they neared the door of the room where Dabi would be in, their steps slowed significantly until they reached a full stop right in front of said door.

“You can go in first.”

“No!” She burst out before she could stop herself, “I mean- uh… h-he’s your brother. You should go first.” 

“Like you said, he’s my brother soI come here quite often. Maybe seeing a new face would be good for him,” he said. Sighing, she nodded before hesitantly opening the door. 

The room was mostly bare except for a large machine a couple of chairs in front of it. With furrowed brows, Y/N slowly inched closer to it only to gasp at the sight before her. Inside the machine, dwelled an unrecoverably burnt Dabi and that when it clicked: it was his life support.

Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the man’s deteriorated state. Was there anything she could’ve done to make him see reason? To make him stay that night when he had dinner at her home? 

“What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarser than before and he spoke slowly as though uttering each word was a struggle. It likely was actually.

“I came to see you,” she whispered, still shocked by his state.

“Why?”

“I don’t know…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say in general. She stared at him as they stood before each other in silence, both analyzing the other.

“I guess you were right,” he said after what felt like an eternity of silence. Y/N knew exactly what he meant and it broke her heart that that was his first thought. “I should’ve stayed with you that night.”

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say.

“My family visits me everyday. They missed me all this time,” she could swear she heard his voice tremble a bit, “I could’ve just gone home, maybe if I had stayed with you, I would’ve eventually.”

“I met your younger brother, the one from UA. He seemed nice,” she said in a shaky voice, only then did she notice she was crying.

“Yeah, he comes by a lot too. I used to hate him, you know,” he admitted.

“You hated everyone,” Y/N retorted.

“I know. But I hated him first and most,”

“Why? He seems to love you so much,” Y/N questioned, emboldened by the fact that he was already opening up to her.

“I wanted to be what he was in my dad’s eyes,” the confession broke her heart. To feel so inadequate and unloved that he turned to cruelty and villainy was a heartbreaking thing. 

Y/N knew that Endeavor must’ve felt guilty for all that happened and quite frankly, he deserved to feel so.

“How are you?” She asked. Only after did she process how stupid her question was in face of his current circumstances, “Nevermind, I-“

“I’m fine…” he responded, “might not look like it but I am,”

“Oh but -“

“How? I got my family back and I know I don’t have much longer so it’s nice to have them around for now,”

Her heart stopped for a split second. I don't have much longer. What?

“W-What do you mean by that?” She questioned with a slight quiver to her lip as she felt her chest tighten as tears flow faster.

“You know what I mean,” he said. A sob escaped her lips, “I didn’t know I matter this much to you,” he continued, “now I really regret not staying.”

“I wish you stayed too,” she cried. “I hoped you’d come back or at least not go to them. I should’ve tried to make you stay! I should’ve done something!”

“No. There was nothing you could’ve done,” he opposed, “nothing that wouldn’t be met with danger and you had to think about the kids too.”

She didn’t respond any further. Just stood there sobbing her heart out as she struggled to speak.

“I could’ve loved you,” Dabi confessed, “I knew I could when you called me Dabi and I hated it.” Y/N’s sobs stopped as she stared at him in pure shock. Her heart sped up, pounding against her chest as she struggled to make sense of what he said.

“I think I did- or do love you,” she said, “I think that’s why I feel so guilty.”

“Don’t. I brought this on myself.”

“Still! Everyone did their best to try and help and I just sat there like a coward!” She burst out, “I could have done something!”

“It doesn’t matter now. All we can do it think about the future,”

“You just said you don’t have long,” she sobbed.

“I know. But I want you to be here for the time I have left.”

She shook her head. With her legs finally growing tired, she took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Touya’s machine.

“Why did everything have to be like this?” She wondered out loud.

“I don’t know.”

A knock on the door called for both of their attention. A warning that their time was up. Sniffling and wiping her face, she got up from her seat and looked at Touya once more.

“Can I come by again?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes, I’d like that,” he responded, making her smile softly.

“Bye for now then-“ she stopped hesitantly. “Is it Dabi or Touya now?” 

“I’ll be whoever for you,” he responded. She smiled shyly before continuing her goodbyes and leaving the room.

Finding Touya’s brother still waiting in the hallway, she felt bad for the time she took, “Hi, thanks for helping me find his room,” she said to the boy once he noticed her presence.

“No problem,” he smiled, “hope to see you again.”

“You will,” she said confidently.

She left the hospital feeling much lighter and at ease. It was bittersweet but she decided to only focus on the sweetness of the situation rather than the bitterness of it.

The next day, Y/N walked into the hospital with no hesitation. She found his room with little to no effort and sat before him with a new found sense of what she could describe as belonging.

“Hello,” she said, smiling at him from the other side of the glass of the machine where he laid.

“Is it Touya or Dabi to you,” he said, sensing a little teasing in his tone.

“Hello, whoever you are,” she teased back.

The laughter they shared felt like a marking of a new beginning. They were both aware of how short lived it would be but that didn’t matter at that moment. They figured that the ‘now’ was more important and what they should focus on.

——————————

masterlist

[venacoeurva]

He has things to say and those are: ä

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being an Old Man

For this AU Billy was born in 1928. He became Marvel in 1940. He would’ve been twelve years old. Now in this AU, the time bubble never formed, Billy and anyone else who had a Marvel form just aged extremely slowly. Like, every 100 years he ages a single year.

Like, an example of him being old would be that he’d have been alive during and for the end of prohibition and the Great Depression.

Aquaman: “You coming for drinks, Cap?”

Marvel: “Uh… no. I don’t drink.”

Aquaman: “Why? What’s not to love about alcohol?”

Marvel: “Well, you know, I didn’t really get into it as a kid cause it was banned at the time. Then I tried some a while ago and it was nasty. If it hadn’t been banned I’m sure I would love it.” *shrugs*

Aquaman: “Why would you love it as a kid?” *raises eyebrow*

Marvel: “The Great Depression.”

Aquaman: “What.”

Marvel: “The Great Depression. There was also prohibition too so even if I wanted it, I couldn’t have it.”

Aquaman: *rapid blinks* “Buddy, I don’t know why I keep forgetting you’re an immortal demigod.”

Marvel: (Billy is in fact not an immortal) “Yeah.” *shrugs* He’d also act like those old people that are rude without even realizing it. Like when he met Beast Boy for the first time, he asked him if he was a hippie.

Marvel: *staring at Beast Boy, thinking*

BB: “Uh… What is it?”

Marvel: “Are you a hippie?”

BB: “What’s that?”

Marvel: “A treehugger.”

BB: “Oh uh I guess.”

Marvel: *cocks head to side and judgmentally looks BB up and down* “Do you do marijuana? (Mari-juh-wana)

BB: “WHAT? NO??”

Marvel: “Oh. Never mind then.” *judgmental look disappears instantly and he’s sunny smiling*

Then, when he first saw Punk Kon he immediately thought of the punk counterculture he saw in the 60s and 70s.

Marvel: “I’m… I’m going to say this as nicely as possible.” *places hand on Kon’s shoulder* “You look like a gangbanger.”

Superman: *blanches at that*

Marvel: “Like, straight from the 70s. You look like a biker guy I knew. Granted, you’re way skinnier, but still.”

Kon: “Sooooo… You’re complimenting me?”

Marvel: “I guess. He gave me food. That makes him good in my opinion.”

Kon: “Oh. Sweet.”

Billy would’ve also lived through McCarthyism, and after WW2, every American was testy when it came to communism. So, let’s say two leaguers are talking about Paul McCarthy for whatever reason.

Marvel: “Man, fuck McCarthy!”

Two Leaguers: “Why?” *concerned because Marvel’s literally never cursed near the league*

Marvel: “He put me on the list! He put me on the list even though I don’t work for the government!”

Two Leaguers: “What list..?”

Marvel: “The commie list! Get with the program!” *proceeds to hate-rant about Paul McCarthy for about 20 minutes*

Two Leaguers: *didn’t know Marvel could even feel hatred*

[johnbrand]

Silver Fox News

Out of breath, Richie shut the door behind him. The sun was already shining into his childhood home, the suburban frame one he had seen little of over the last four years. With his college a few states over, Richie was practically only home for the holidays, spending his summers at local internships that kept him away from where he grew up. He did not have anything against his town, or his dad for that matter; he had simply always been too busy. And now, freshly graduated and without a job quite yet, Richie had returned for the time being.

“Dad?” Richie called out, searching the kitchen. Typically, his father waited for him once he got back from his morning run, seated at the counter with a morning coffee and whatever protein-stuffed breakfast appeased him. But now, Richie could not find his dad anywhere.

“Scott?” Richie tried, but no response. Sweat dribbled down his lean, hairless frame. He liked to keep slim and clean-looking, knowing it was attractive for the men he usually slept with. While quite the flirt back in his college town, Richie had yet to hook up with anyone at home. He still had not had that talk with his father yet.

Richie scouted a bit longer, eventually finding his father in the master bedroom. Digging through his closet, Scott seemed to be tossing out all his blue clothing. Anything remotely near that shade even. After another “Dad?” Richie finally caught his father’s attention. Richie had only been home for a few days now, but he had never seen his father so invested in a task and yet, so out of it completely.

“Have you watched the news this morning, son?” Scott asked, to Richie's surprise.

“Uh, no…?”  The sweat had already dried against his exposed frame by that point, so without bothering to take a shower, Richie followed his father out into the living room. He just hoped whatever it was his father wanted him to see would be short, as he was practically naked besides his running shorts. Grabbing the remote, Richie did not expect the first channel to be a Fox News affiliate.

“Really, dad?” Richie questioned. He had never placed his father as the conservative type. He had typically been more independent, while Richie’s perspective was wholly liberal. It was a bit strange to see the network, but maybe Scott had changed while he had been away in college. Speaking of which, had his father always been so salt-and-peppered on top? Richie also took a moment to appreciate his father’s musculature, which he had somehow not noticed until now.

Richie returned his eyes to the screen. On top of the typical Fox News logo was the word “Silver” in an old fashioned font. And instead of the typical newscasters, stories, and lineup, there was just a slide displaying some text. 

“Thank you for tuning into Silver Fox News. Your program will begin shortly.”

“Did you buy some kind of premium subscription?” Richie openly questioned his father, who seemed to be absorbed by the television. “Okay, you got me in front of the news; what did you want to show me?”

Richie’s answer came quickly. The text disappeared, revealing a simple red spiral with flashing commands. It was not anything special, but it was enough.

“Pretty colors…swirling…” Richie slurred after a minute, his tongue becoming heavy in his mouth. “Soothing, silky…the spiral is so…hot…I love…the spiral…I love this feeling…I listen…to the spiral…”

When major research institutions began to announce their predictions of voter turnout for the upcoming election, alarms began to ring off within the Republican party. An assumed 41 million Gen Z voters would be hauling into polling stations, with numbers as high as 43% confirmed to be liberal. It was a staunch difference, one that many leaders could not accept. So instead of following the traditional tactics to sway voters like they had in the past, they decided to take a new route. Why sway voters, when you could make them?

Thanks to the research and funding of a certain well-known tech billionaire, the necessary resources were simple. Leaders believed that the easiest way to eliminate the problem was by creating the solution in the most efficient way possible. Social aspects would include basic background, education, and upbringing. Physical aspects would manage age, size, and demographic. Mental aspects would focus on tradition, individuality, and compliance. But the beauty of it all was that the programmers did very little of the work. Instead, they simply utilized the victim’s preconceived notions.

“What does…being Republican…mean to me…?” Richie drawled, his voice having dropped an octave since the program began. Instead of installing a literal trigger into the victim, the channel exploited the stereotypical beliefs victims already held. “I must become…Republican…that means…middle-aged…suburban…uneducated…Christian…”

As Richie chanted his prejudices out like a spell, his body was subsequently altered. His age more than doubled, ripping away the hair from his head and leaving the beginnings of a horseshoe to splatter the rest across his body. Wrinkles and age lines began to form, but so did musculature as his body beefed up, becoming stronger in the way that most Conservative men naturally are. Daily maintenance of a large suburban home did that to a man after all. 

“Traditional…simple…heterosexual…” Richie continued as a beard formed around his lips. His past was rewritten to better fit the portrait he was painting. Sundays in church, dropping out of high school to later receive a GED, working hard to earn his privilege and not understanding why it was handed to others. Fear of God, fear of big government, fear of outsiders influencing how things were. Disgust for “progress,” disgust for pronouns, disgust for sexual interactions with other males. Pride in his country, pride in being a male, and pride in taking nothing from nobody.

“...handsome…masculine…arrogant…” Before this had all began, researchers already knew that many of their victims would end up the same, as the stereotype of the average Republican was firmly held. What they had not predicted however was the amount of people who held hidden desires for this “average Republican.” A hypothesis arose quickly: if the liberal holds stronger prejudices, then they will become a more attractive Republican. “...alpha…virile…superior…” The choice of naming their channel "Silver Fox News" had been an appropriate one.

Richie, or Dick as he would now be referred to, would certainly provide further evidence to support their theory. As the program finished, the new, Republican silver fox readjusted back into reality, finding his best bud Scott standing before him. Dick could not remember what had just happened, but he liked what Scott laid out as a plan for the rest of the day. Work in the garage for a few hours, run out and purchase the new Trump propaganda, and then end the night at a Hooters. Dick could not decide which part of the plan he would enjoy the most, but clutching his massive pouch, he knew which he was most excited for.

[toxicanonymity]

Imagine Slasher sees a man entering (or leaving?) Kitten's house, while he's stalking watching her. How would he react, what would he do? 👀

Thank you for all this 🖤🖤🫂

sexy back

SLASHER JOEL x f!READER | PLAYLIST | WC: 900

ENTERING! Let's do entering. And you're quite welcome. I hope this rascal makes some of you smile. Love you, Milla. 🖤🖤

WARNINGS: 18+ dark fic. Unsafe/dark sexual behavior, degradation, humiliation, slasher being slasher, cucking, dubcon/noncon but it's okay cause he ain't got no soul.

Joel watches from outside and perks up when your living room light switches off, and a dim orange light in your bedroom turns on. Yeah, let's go. He doesn’t have much of a view, so he creeps around back to the sliding door of your kitchen. And look at that, the door isn’t even locked.

This is big. An opportunity to see you whoring around. Catch you in the act. He’s not gonna blow it: unlike the other times he’s broken in, he doesn’t make a sound. He even takes off his shoes and leaves them outside. 

You little sex kitten…you even left your bedroom door open. He takes a seat on your living room couch which faces away from your bedroom. He rests his elbow over the back of the sofa and angles himself so he can watch. He doesn’t see much, at first. Just the silhouette of some loser awkwardly lying on his side on your bed, presumably facing you.

Then there are kissing sounds. Gross. You must have thought the same. You don’t sound impressed when you stop and ask the poor guy, “Uh, ok. Can we just uh–” 

And then you’re on top of him. Attagirl. That's the kitten Joel knows. You take off your shirt. Well, damn. You look sexy as hell from this angle.

“You’re so pretty,” the guy gushes softly. Joel rolls his eyes. That guy totally has a cuck voice. You lean forward, still with your skirt on, although it’s riding up. Your hips move, a little. He pulls your head down for a kiss. Dumbass. That clearly wasn’t doin’ it for ya before. Your faces connect, and while you’re not looking, Joel sneaks over to your room. He crosses his arms, holding a knife in one hand, and leaning against the doorframe.

You pull back from the bad kisser and he apologizes softly.

Joel has had enough. “Alright, just take your dick out man. That’s all she wants.”

The guy gasps. You turn around with a startle, but you don’t freak out. You're getting used to the break-ins.

“Joel,” you scold a little too calmly. “What the fuck?”

“Take it out,” Joel repeats to the guy. 

“What are you doing?” You demand. 

Joel answers, “Don’t whore around on me if ya don’t want me involved, babe.” 

The guy hesitates, and Joel uncrosses his arms. With his knife still in one hand, Joel gesticulates in front of himself, starting with both hands near his crotch. “Take… your cock…” He lifts his hands and advances them forward. “Out of your pants.” 

The guy is just staring at the knife in Joel’s hand. 

“NOW,” Joel adds, then addresses you. “God damn, I can see what you're so bored about.” 

The guy’s hands are shaking as he unzips his pants. Joel steps forward to take a look, and, well. Lol. 

“You wanna go first or second?” Joel asks. 

“W-What?” The guy stammers. 

“Trainsgiving’s come early,” Joel explains. “Go on, get her while she’s tight.” 

The man asks you, “Do you want me to-”

Joel interrupts with an exasperated sigh, then, starting in a mocking voice, “do you want me to–Shut up and do it,” Joel points at him. 

Joel gets a good look at you. He knows that look on  your face–mortified AND aroused. And when Joel gives you a little smirk, you seem to suppress one of your own. It’s clear in your eyes.  

“Okay fine, just lie there,” Joel directs the guy. “Hold it for her.” Joel turns to you. “Go on, kitty. Don’t stop whorin’ on my account.” 

You look Joel up and down, and when he palms a massive bulge in his jumpsuit, that’s enough to make you do it. 

You’re more cock hungry than anyone Joel’s ever met. Too bad this guy’s not much of a meal. That’s okay. Joel’s here.

You put a condom on the guy, and Joel laughs, “ouch.” 

When you sink down on the man, you’re hoping it’s a test. A test you’ll fail, provoking Joel into a rage.  But no, Joel stands close by and unzips his jumpsuit, staring at where your body meets the cock.

Okay, he’s not that bad, both you and Joel think to yourselves. The guy is frozen.

“What,” you ask the guy, “you don’t want this?”

"No, I do." He looks back and forth between the two of you and asks, “Does he have to be here?”

Joel is now holding the absurd girth of his own shaft and glances down at it before looking the man in the eye. “Someone’s gotta pick up the slack,” Joel complains and adds under his breath, "Make up for what you lack."

You begin to move your hips. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel decides and puts an arm around you, pulling you off the guy. You pretend to fight Joel off.

The guy asks, “Do you need help?”

“She’s fine,” Joel cuts him off. 

“I wasn’t done with him,” you protest convincingly.

The guy whispers,”What the fuck,” as he backs out of the room, still putting his dick in his pants. 

“Why are you ruining my date,” you ask Joel.

“Shut up,” Joel pushes you forward and holds you face down on the bed. He growls in your ear. “You.. filthy.. slut,” then shoves into you brutally. 

There he is, you think as you smile into the pillow and savor the incredible stretch.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1

Silently, they swap seats. It feels ridiculous, how perfectly the whole exchange goes, how no-one else stirs, how the RV glides smoothly with Eddie's hands on the wheel.

“What about, uh, the walkman?” he asks, tries to sound matter-of-fact. Time for a new plan, time to think.

“No,” Steve says. There's a finality to his tone. “Max should keep it.”

Eddie exhales. “Okay, okay. There's—here, there's a radio.” He doesn't mention the fact that he's closer; knows that his hand would shake if he tried to reach for it. “Be great if you'd develop an emotional attachment to, like, all of the Top 40 right now, Harrington.”

There's a soft sound that might almost be a laugh. Eddie listens to Steve quietly moving around then returning to his seat, hears the static of the radio being turned on—volume low, as if Steve doesn't want to wake anyone up. The thoughtfulness, even now, makes something in Eddie's chest hurt.

But there's nothing, not even a whisper of a song, and then even the static stops. Steve has turned the radio off.

One second.

“No signal,” Steve says, and even though he's not looking at him, Eddie knows he's shrugging again, like it is what it is.

The panic Eddie had briefly kept at bay while trying to strategize comes flooding back. “Jesus Christ, this—this can't be happening.” There's another long pause, and Eddie inhales shakily, remembers how he hadn't noticed when Chrissy fell silent. “Hey, man, you've gotta—keep talking to me, okay, or I'm gonna lose it.” Let me know you're still here. Please.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “Talking. Um.”

“Um,” Eddie parrots. “Wow. Didn't finishing school teach you conversation skills?”

Steve laughs again—hushed but real. “Fuck off.” He sighs, then says, “God, this might be a weird thing to say—”

“Colour me intrigued.”

“—but I'm so relieved, dude, you have no idea.”

“You're right. That's an extremely fucking weird thing to say.”

“I didn't want it to be Max,” Steve says, so heartfelt that Eddie tightens his grip on the wheel. “Didn't want it to be... anyone, you know? It's—yeah, it's better like this.”

“‘Better’ is a strong word for it.”

“Mm. Like, come on, what's the worst he could have in store for me? The summer our AC broke, that was pretty rough—”

“Don't,” Eddie says sharply, and all at once the joking tone they'd built up evaporates. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don't...” Eddie swallows. Recalls when he'd cut through the gym to get to Drama Club, how he'd glance over at Cheer Practice and think, They've all got it made, haven't they? Shiny fucking picture-perfect lives. “Don't bullshit me, all right?”

“...Okay.”

Eddie scoffs weakly, tries to regain the banter they were sharing. “Hey, if you can't be honest now, when can you?”

“Sure, that's—that's fair.” Steve shifts in his seat. “I was talking to Max, about the... when it happened to her. And she said she thought of happy memories, so. Got an idea of what to expect, at least.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, the mild tone only barely covering his anxiety. “Know what you're thinking about, then?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. He's smiling; Eddie can hear it. “Got a few things in mind.”

“Good, that's... that's good.”

The road is getting more familiar: it won't be long until they're nearing the Welcome to Hawkins sign.

“Kinda impressed with you, Munson. Was expecting you to drive like a bat out of hell.”

“Ha, ha. Special occasion, and all—”

A pained gasp cuts through the air, and Eddie's stomach lurches. “Shit, shit, Steve—”

“I'm fine,” Steve says quickly, “I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.”

“Tell me the fucking truth. Please.”

“It's just my head. Hurts a bit. Not a big deal, I've had worse.”

From the clipped way Steve is speaking, Eddie knows it's more painful than he's letting on.

He slows and brakes at a stop light before taking the chance to, finally, look over.

Steve is staring straight ahead, eyes in focus, and Eddie suppresses a sigh of relief at the sight. But then he sees how Steve's jaw is clenched.

“How's the clock?” he says cautiously. Prays for a miracle.

“Still there. It's closer. And, um...” Steve's mouth opens, closes, opens again. “I'm guessing the black widows on the dashboard aren’t actually...?”

God, he says it so easily. Eddie can't comprehend the bravery of it. “No, there’s nothing there,” he says.

“S'okay,” Steve says, “I'll just look at you.”

“I've been told I'm a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie says dryly.

“Oh, I’d believe that,” Steve returns, somehow both matching Eddie’s tone and sounding completely sincere. He turns to Eddie and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“This bit really isn’t so bad, Eddie,” Steve says gently. “Just some spooky pictures, really. That’s kids’ stuff. And you’re—you’re good company.” The light changes. Eddie looks away with reluctance, starts up the engine again. “I try my best,” he says lightly, and wonders how someone can be so close to… to… (he can’t say it; he won’t say it). So close to that, and still smile about it.

You’re incredible, Steve Harrington.

“Home sweet home,” Eddie murmurs as they pass the Welcome sign. “Hey, we made pretty good time, too.”

“I didn’t mean to be late,” Steve says nonsensically.

“What the—?”

“I didn’t, Dad, I didn’t. I’m not lying.”

There’s ice in Eddie’s veins. “No, no, no, stop—stay with me Steve,” he says, which is so fucking stupid, what, did he think he could solve this through sheer force of will? No matter how many times he begged, Chrissy never woke up.

But then Steve gasps, and it sounds like he did at Lover’s Lake, just before he got dragged back under. “Sorry, sorry. I’m still here.”

“Jesus. We’re—we’re here.” “We’re…? Right, yeah.” A deep breath. “Okay. New plan. My place first,” Steve says firmly. “We'll drop the kids off.” There's an unshakable resolve in his voice.

Eddie takes the next turning, doesn’t even enjoy the double take that Steve does at that, the fact that Eddie already knows his address. When he glances over, he sees beads of sweat on Steve’s face. Eddie speeds up.

Please, please. Just hold on.

[exceptional-z]

zed necrodopolis x reader

this is an au where zombies were never allowed to go to human high school. so zed is aged up (though age is never mentioned so you can imagine whatever) but has never been on the other side of the barrier. i attempted not to use gendered language but i tend to write with fem!reader in mind.

also please ignore any inconsistent verb tenses. english is not my first language and verb tenses are literally the bane of my existence. + i wrote this in like an hour

your family didn’t have much money growing up, hence why you lived so close to the gate. real estate was cheap since no one wanted to live near the zombies. but it also meant you learnt how to save money in as many ways as you could.

seabrook was all about perfection. if a mattress was two years old, it was time to throw it out and buy a new one. if a bike had a single scratch, it was thrown into the dumpster. all of the old items deemed as ‘garbage’ were brought to a warehouse that was emptied around every two weeks. and this was your favourite place to be.

you sneak into the warehouse. it’s late at night and there’s never any security around. you’re immediately greeted with piles of furniture and clothing and trinkets that are too unique to fit into the seabrook aesthetic.

you start to rummage through with the plastic gloves you always wear just in case any bugs or mice decide that this is a perfect place to burrow. lost in thought, you don’t hear the creaky door open, but you do hear the sudden shout that erupted from behind you.

your heart nearly stops beating at the sudden noise and your head swivels around. the lighting isn’t great, and you can only make out the vague shape of the person blocking your only exit. he looks fairly lanky, and if you squint you could make out some of his features. he doesn’t look much older than you and he certainly doesn’t scream “imposing”. he’s taller than you, but maybe if you caught him off guard you could knock him out with one of the many heavy objects splayed around you.

“i was told no one ever came in here,” the boy says. fuck, his voice is attractive.

“they don’t. in the three years i’ve been doing this i’ve never run into anyone else.” you answer, obviously suspicious.

“i’m uh- i’m just looking for a gift for my little sister,” he explains, “it’s her birthday soon and she said she wanted a new bike but we can’t really afford it.”

you relax a little at his explanation, sharing that you’d gotten into the habit of coming here to rummage for things since your family also doesn’t have much money. “i could help you look if you’d like? and even if we can’t find a bike, there’s a ton of cool stuff you can find if you’re willing to dig.” you offer.

you can’t be sure, but you think he smiles as he answers. “i’ll take any help i can get. my friend eliza told me to try coming here to look, but honestly, i’m a bit overwhelmed.”

you talk and laugh together for what must be at least two hours. you don’t end up finding a bike, but you find an old cheerleader outfit that looks to be in perfect condition. you can’t imagine why anyone would throw it out unless it just didn’t fit anymore. the boy -who still doesn’t have a name- literally jumped up in joy when he saw you holding the skirt from the set, doing a little celebratory dance that should have been embarrassing but was somehow endearing. (that’s how you figured out his little sister was obsessed with cheer).

eventually you have to part ways; it’s getting into the early hours of the morning and you both need to be getting home. he’s halfway down the street when you realise you never shared names and you yell out, “wait!”

he stops and turns around, and you jog to catch up to him.

“what’s your name, stranger?” you ask, “just in case we run into each other again.”

he tells you his name is zed, and you tell him your name in return. for a few seconds the both of you just stand in the street, memorising each other’s faces until you look away, shaking off the thoughts of how attractive he is under the starlight.

(bonus: when zed gets home, all he can think about is you. he wonders if eliza would recognise your name, or if he would possibly run into you if he chose to go to school for once instead of always skipping. he wonders where you live in zombietown, since he doesn’t recognise you and is sure he would remember seeing someone as gorgeous are you. he spends the next few days wondering, and then is in for the shock of his life when he sees you through the fence that blocks off zombietown from seabrook and learns that you’re human.)

[lvdr-haze]

SWEET

now playing :

genre : kind of an enemy to lovers

TW : a lil bit of angst, mention of dead peoples, alcohol consumption

this fic is kinda bad written but yeah lol.

english is not my first language !!

comments appreciated and requests open!! :)

Joost had always hated you. At first, you didn’t even know why, but then someone told you: Joost didn’t like you because of your "too active" behavior and because you were known for being somewhat insolent. He wasn't wrong, though.

Indeed, when you were in public places with your friends, you were active and often perceived as insolent or arrogant. Whenever your friends had a conflict, they would call you to intervene because they knew you had a great rejoinder.

It honestly pissed you off that people saw you this way. You were so much more than that.

Today, you had invited your friends to a home party. Every guest could bring an additional person, and you hoped to get along with all of them.

After you finished doing your makeup and outfit, the doorbell rang. You went to open it, welcoming your friend. The last guests arrived an hour later. You and your friends had already had a bit to drink, but not enough to feel completely tipsy. You got up and opened the door with a smile, but when you saw Apson’s guest, your smile slightly faded. You had been friends with Apson for a long time, and he knew you didn’t get along with Joost, so why would he bring him? Anyway, you welcomed both of them and let them in.

While you were preparing some drinks, Apson came into the kitchen and said:

"Listen, Y/N, I know you and Joost can’t really stand each other, but he’s had a really hard time lately, especially today. Can you please make sure he has a good time?"

You felt bad knowing that, and of course, since you weren’t as mean as Joost thought, you agreed to make everything right for him today. You nodded to Apson and went back to the living room with new drinks.

Some chill music was playing on the TV while everyone was chatting. The party was good, and everyone seemed to be getting along well. You felt proud because you and Joost hadn’t fought yet. In fact, Joost was staying to himself and was kind of surprised at how calm and sweet you were at home. But he didn’t talk to you or anyone else, just smiling at some jokes sometimes. You could tell he wasn’t feeling well.

Suddenly, he got up and came to you to ask:

"Uh, could you tell me where I can have a smoke, please?"

His voice was lower than usual, and his eyes seemed tired.

"Yeah, sure, just here on the balcony," you said, opening the glass door.

He thanked you and went out, lighting up a cigarette. You went back to the living room and drank with your friends. Time was passing, and Joost wasn’t coming back, so you decided to check on him. You opened the door and began to ask, "Is everything alr—" but stopped mid-sentence when you realized Joost was crying heavily. You went to him and, not knowing how to react, hugged him. He had to admit it was the sweetest hug he had ever had. He held you tightly and cried in your arms.

"Hey…everything will be alright…shhh…stop crying…”

You always had a caring instinct, and Joost could feel it. His sobbing stopped, and he looked up at you.

"Fuck…I’m sorry for acting like a child…I shouldn’t be crying right now…I’m sorry…"

You sat near him and smiled.

"No, Joost, you can cry if you feel like it, it’s okay. Do you want to tell me what is going on?"

Joost couldn’t stop being shocked by your sweet and calm attitude, wondering how he could have hated you for so long.

"I miss my parents…so, so much."

His voice was trembling again. You knew Joost’s parents were dead because Apson had told you. You hugged him again.

"I’m sure your parents are proud of you, Joost. You’re such a good person, always spreading joy everywhere you go, always caring for your friends, and you’re also such a hard-working guy. I know it’s probably hard without them, but they wouldn’t like to see you in this state, even though it’s totally normal to cry because you miss them…"

You were caressing his hair while telling him the most reassuring things. Joost nodded and got up.

"Thanks a lot, Y/N. I would have never expected so much sweetness from you…"

You smiled.

"No need to thank me."

You both went back to the party. Everyone was trying to figure out what had happened while you two were gone, but you said it wasn’t important, and the party continued. Joost was clearly more into it now, talking, laughing, and singing along to the songs on the TV. You could tell he was feeling better, and you were happy for him.

At the end of the party, some of your friends went home, but some asked if they could sleep over. You, of course, accepted. Apson chose to take the guest room, quickly joined by Stuntje. Two of your other friends decided to sleep on the couch, and you didn’t even realize Joost hadn’t had the chance to choose where to sleep. While you were preparing everything for your friends to sleep, he shyly came to you and asked:

"Um…where can I sleep?"

You realized there wasn’t much space for him on the couch or in the guest room, so you kindly said he could sleep in your room.

"Are you sure? I won’t bother you?"

You laughed slightly and said he wouldn’t bother you.

Once everyone was asleep, you and Joost finally went to your room. You went to the bathroom to put on your pajamas and then got under the covers to rejoin Joost.

"Thanks again for your kind words…"

"I already said you didn’t have to thank me, Joost," you said, looking at each other. For a minute, you couldn’t take your eyes off his ocean-blue eyes, but Joost broke the silence by asking:

"Can I…kiss you?"

Your eyes widened a bit, but you slightly nodded. You felt his lips against yours, and you began to kiss slowly. It was the most comforting kiss you had ever had. You felt butterflies in your stomach, wondering what the hell was happening to you. The kiss ended, and Joost brought your head to his chest, playing with your hair.

"Damn, I never thought I’d kiss you one day…" he said with a smile, making you laugh a little.

"Neither did I…"

"Well, I don’t regret it…"

You straightened up, turned to him, and gave him a peck on the lips. You both smiled.

"I’ll never regret it," you replied before resting your head on his chest. You turned off the bedside lamp.

"Good night, Joost."

"Good night, lieverd."

He kissed your forehead. You both felt so comfortable that you wished this moment could last forever.

[superluver]

Happy Hands G.S.

Pairing: teen!Gojo Satoru x teenFEM!Reader

wc: 1154 | cw: CURSING, shoko smoking, Satoru being super annoying, reader beats up satoru, fem!reader, reader has the patience of a philosopher, crackfic, vomiting, NOT PROOFREAD PER USUAL 😋😋

Description: Satoru is annoying the living shit out of you, so you beat him up

(Someone submit something for me to write 😔)

“DUH DUH DUH DUHHHHH,” you make the beat of the song in front of the two.

Shoko stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, thinking hard. Chewing her cigarette, she waves her hand.

“Wait- wait, do it again.”

“Like everyone knows this song!— Or at least the person that made this song." You shout at her. Suguru snaps his fingers, your heart skips a beat, someone finally got it—

“Happy birthday.” He says with full confidence, then leans back in his seat with a smile. What he doesn’t expect is for you to punch his desk, causing it to explode. The wood scatters around the room like a mini bomb went off.

The screeches of his chair sliding on the ground fill the room as he backs from you.

“It was obviously Michael Jackson.” A voice from the door rolls his eyes. Satoru, in all his glory. He goes to sit down beside Shoko, but you kick his seat before he could take a seat.

“You weren’t playing.” You tell him dryly.

Shoko feels shivers crawl up her back. It’s not that you’re stronger than Gojo. No way, in combat he would 100% win. But, it’s just that your family is known to break infinity.

Cursed hands, family born with seals on their hands. Much like the inumaki clan, the (l/n) clan their own powerful seal.

“(N/n)?! Are you still mad at me, seriously?!” He pouts, dragging his seat back to his desk.

You clench your fists, staring down at him but not saying anything.

Shoko thinks three punches, and it’ll go down. Suguru thinks one if he can rile you up real good: One to break, another for the punch.

That’s what he was trying to do anyway. Yesterday, Satoru put cockroaches in your closet to get you angry enough to destroy his infinity because you refused to reason with him at 10:00 in the evening. But you didn’t get mad at him. No, mad wouldn’t even describe how you were feeling.

It was pure rage.

But you didn’t take it out on him. Instead, you went into Shoko’s room to sleep.

“(Y/nnnnn)!” The annoyance whines, holding his desk from the other side and batting his eyelashes at you.

“Suguru, pick a number, one, two, or three?” You ask him sweetly.

“Uh, three?”

You nod, clenching your fists before sucking in. Satoru screams, ducking as you wind up your fists, the room shaking with crazy wind. “Three punches it is—”

The seal on your hand glows as Satoru puts up infinity, covering his face. Shoko is standing beside Suguru, squinting as your fist nears the six eyes' precious face.

Yaga though, with his impeccable timing, comes in, placing one of his dolls to catch the punch. It ends up exploding into smithereens, and Yaga, though clearly distraught, sighs.

You glare at Satoru one last time before kicking his chair’s leg, hoping he would fall, then taking your seat beside him.

“Anyone want to tell me what was happening here?”

The three glare at Satoru, who smiles innocently. Raising his hand up in the air, “I was brutally assaulted by (Y/N) senseiiii!”

“I didn’t even touch you.”

“You put cockroaches in her closet.”

“I think you deserved it,” Suguru finishes off the complaints, smiling sweetly as his friend is put in hot water.

Yaga furrows his eyebrows, rubbing the corners of his eyes as he tiredly groans. “It’s too early to deal with the four of you—”

“It’s only one of us, sensei!” You chirp, trying to be polite, but Satoru can see your glare at him through your kind face.

Yaga sighs before turning to the board, with chalk in his hand, he begins the lesson of the day.

-

“How boooring!” You stretch, making your way to tree where the four of you— yes, including Satoru— would be eating lunch.

Shoko passes you a mason jar to open for her, and you take it.

It shatters in your hold.

You blink, feeling the liquid fall over your hands. “Oh shit, she’s still mad at youuu!” Suguru teases, causing Satoru to nudge him aggressively.

“I’m fine,” You hold your hand out to Shoko once more, “Hand me another one.”

Hesitantly, she digs in the basket, taking another mason jar and shakily giving it to you. By the time all your fingerpads got on it, it, once again, shattered in your hold.

“Okay now what the fuck.”

“You’re doing it on purpose.” Satoru tells her smugly.

He’s trying to rile you up, and it’s working. Now, he really didn’t tamper with the mason jars, that was alllll you, but now he’s taking advantage of the situation. He can tell it’s working from the vein that’d popping out from your jaw.

He noticed it happened a lot when you clenched your jaw too much.

“One more time.” You ask, and Shoko— who really doesn’t want to give it to you— glances at Suguru, who just shrugs.

“C’mon on guys, last time. Promise.”

Now that didn’t sound so good. Whatever you were planning definitely had something to do with Satoru.

Shoko, scared it would explode on her, threw it to you. And, surprisingly this time, it didn’t burst.

“Heh, would you look at—”

It exploded again, but not in your hands. On Satoru’s infinity.

You threw it straight for his head, luckily he unconsciously put up infinity after feeling your anger.

“What the- OOF!”

Not only did you break his infinity on the first punch, but it made contact with his skin. He gasped, rolling away from the impact with a still cocky laugh.

You huffed, and surprisingly he still had the energy to talk.

“That was noth— BLEGHH”

“EW SATORU!” Suguru shouts, immediately standing up and watching as his best friend hack and gag away in the grass on his hands and knees from a distance.

Shoko grimaces, watching as you stand up, stomping over in his direction, kicking the living shit out of him.

“I should kill you right now.” You say coldly, stomping on him

“Ow! Suguru, Shoko! Help me!” He says, yelping as you continue to assault him.

They glance away, whistling to themselves because, suddenly, the sky looks super interesting.

When you’re done, you plop beside him, and he’s grinning at you, somehow.

You’re huffing, exhausted.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Got it.” He murmurs, holding his stomach in agony.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, so could you—”

“Count sheep, Satoru.” You sigh, patting his head warmly, almost guiltily before standing up, walking off back towards the school. Shoko snapping numerous photos of a beaten up Satoru in the grass.

“Heh, I am so gonna print those out.” She chuckles, trailing behind your huffing figure.

They all leave him alone in the grass, and finally he can relax with a sigh.

No one can really see hearts behind his covered eyes, and thank god for that.

-

Thank you guys for the support on ‘What was in the bag’, I really appreciate it 🙏🙏 I feel like i should make a master list but like I don’t really say anything on here other than stories so I guess there’s no need for that now. BUT ANYWAYS, SOMEONE ANYONE SUBMIT ME SOMETHING TO WRITE I’LL DO IT I SWEAR 🙏🙏😞

[slayfics]

A quiet birthday.

900 words

You brought your makeup brush to your face, as you neared the end of getting ready when your phone rang.

Eijiros's contact pic lit up your phone. It was a silly candid pic you had taken of him and Katsuki. A rare moment when Katsuki was belly laughing at the redhead's antics. No one ever got Katsuki laughing quite like his best friend.

"Hey," you answered the call. "I'm almost done getting ready. Are you and Mina here?"

"Uh no-," he said. Something was wrong, it was clear by the first syllable that left his mouth. "Katsuki texted me not to come."

"What?" you exclaimed bewildered. Today was Katsuki's birthday, you both planned to double date with Eijiro and Mina to celebrate. The four of you fought your hero agencies to all get the day off and even placed a reservation with a fancy restaurant several months in advance.

"Yeah- I thought you might have more information?" Eijiro questioned.

"No, hold on I'll talk to him and call you back," you decided.

You stormed into the living room; Katsuki was sitting nonchalantly on the couch scrolling on his phone. His phone lit up with a call, he scrunched his nose up exhaling an irritated grunt as he tossed it to the side.

"Hey," he greeted you.

"Hey? Is that all you got to say?" You questioned.

"Yeah?" He said raising an eyebrow at you. "The hell is with the attitude?"

"Why did you text Eijiro and Mina not to come?" You asked.

"Tch- should have known shitty hair would call you," Katsuki said rolling his eyes and making a grab for his phone now that it stopped ringing.

"Of course, he'd call me! We all planned this dinner for months!" You declared.

Katsuki didn't respond but continued to scroll on his phone.

"What's going on?!" You questioned.

"Nothing is going on," he said without looking up from his phone.

You exhaled with frustration, "I thought you liked this place?! We made sure to pick out something you'd enjoy. They have some the spiciest dishes around," You interrogated further.

"Yeah, I do like their food," he said pinching the bridge of his nose and running a hand down his face as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"We all had to push to get this day off from our agency- it's a weekend and a popular time when heroes are needed-," you continued.

"I know!" Katsuki snapped, causing you to recoil for a moment before hot anger took over.

"Then what the fuck is the problem?!" You snapped back.

"I just don't want to go!" He yelled, finally looking up from his phone. That's when you saw it. When Katsuki couldn't put his emotions into words his eyes gave him away. He was sad and frustrated; It was clear in the glassiness of his crimson eyes.

You let out a sigh, recognizing this was one of those times when you needed to gather your patience to get the stubborn blond to open up to you.

"Talk to me," you said, much gentler as you sat next to him on the couch.

"Already did," he said harshly, turning back to his phone and ignoring your closeness.

"Katsuki," you called placing your hand on his lap, "talk to me more."

Katsuki sighed and placed his phone back down. "Just... don't wanna go," he shrugged his shoulders. "Look- I know... I know how much everyone worked to get this day off for me, and we made these dumb reservations months ago- and you got all dressed up but... I don't know..." he said somberly.

"It's ok," you said squeezing his thigh empathetically, "It's your birthday. Tell me what you want to do?"

Katsuki turned to you as if you just told him a joke. "What do I want to do?" He asked.

"Yeah, it doesn't matter if this is what we had planned. If this isn't what you want now, I understand, and your friends will too." You spoke.

"Yeah?" he asked, the frustration slowly fading from his eyes, replaced by softness at your understanding.

"Yes," you confirmed.

"It's just- I haven't had a day off hero work in months and- I really just... don't want to talk to anyone or think about anything. Just wanna sit here... that sounds so fucking dumb, doesn't it?" He chuckled.

"No- it doesn't," you said leaning your head on his shoulder. "It's valid to want alone time, I can go read a book upstairs or something," you offered.

"No," he said sternly and pulled you onto his lap. "You get to stay."

You giggled at his affection while he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you. "Oh how lucky I am to be graced with your presence," you teased.

"Shut up brat," he laughed as his phone went off with another call. Katsuki groaned, "Another damn birthday call," he complained. "I know I'm an asshole- it's nice so many people care but fuck- I'm so tired of my damn phone going off..."

You grabbed his phone, clicked it to silent, and tossed it to the other side of the couch. "You can respond later- or never, but not now." You said resting back in his lap.

"This is perfect, just what I wanted," he said resting his head on top of yours.

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @that-one-fangirl69

[mym1na]

୨ৎ SKATER GIRL ─ HANNI PHAM.

— 004. XXX STREET, WRITTEN.

3:00 PM / 📍 xxx street ⁉️

Hanni immediately walked onto the porch of what seemed like Beomgyu’s house. She quickly moved her hand to knock on the door, waiting for anyone to answer. Hanni hoped the boy she was looking for would answer. She stood there for a couple of minutes, in silence. She reached up to know again, but before she could hit the door, she heard quick footsteps that rushed to open the door.

The door swung open as Hanni's hand was halfway knocking, nearly hitting the person who opened the door. “I’m sorry!” She rushed out and immediately put her hands to her sides before looking at whoever opened the door.

Hanni’s expression dropped, only for her to realize who it was.

Yn. 

“Hanni?” Yn asked, staring at the girl with a confused face. She wondered why the girl was standing in front of her door.

“Uh—” Hanni stared at the girl for a moment, stuck in place, before snapping out of the trance. Yn seemed to put her in again.

“Um, Haerin told me this is where Beom lives; I might’ve gotten confused with the houses or something,” Hanni explained as she looked around, trying to figure out if it was the right house or not, and if it was, why was Yn at his house?

“He does, but he is not home,” Yn says, making Hanni's head snap towards her. Yn saw the gears turning in Hanni's head, already knowing what the girl was thinking.

“Ew, I see your thoughts; he’s my brother,” Yn explained without Hanni asking.

Hanni let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. "Wait, he’s your brother?” Hanni questioned.

“Unfortunately,” Yn replied sarcastically, not meaning it since she did kind of love her brother.

“Oh.” That was all Hanni said.

She was going to murder Choi Beomgyu. Why? For one, stealing her skateboard, and for two, never introducing her to his sister, who was, by the way, the prettiest girl she has ever seen. "Anyways, why are you here?” Yn spoke, breaking Hanni out of her thoughts.

“Oh, Beomgyu stole my skateboard, and I thought he would run back home with it.” Hanni quickly gave the girl a rundown of what happened. Only to realize that Beomgyu had her skateboard, and she didn’t even know where he was.

“Oh, I can get him home if you want.” Yn said, moving the door wider so Hanni could come in, “You can wait here for him to come.”

Hanni nodded her head awkwardly, muttering a small “thank you” to Yn before walking into the home.

“I’ll be back; I’m going to go get my phone,” Yn says before quickly walking upstairs to her room.

Hanni stood quiet, looking around the home of the Choi's, taking in every single detail in sight, from the pictures of the siblings on the walls to the random handmade mini figures laid out on a shelf near the living room TV. She subconsciously moved closer to the figures, admiring the work of whoever she could assume was Yn. How did she know it could be from the girl—stalking the girl’s account? Duh.

She heard footsteps from the stairs, making her turn in the direction of Yn. “I texted him that the microwave exploded again.”

Hanni's brows furrowed at the word ‘again’, “Again?” She asked, as confused as her facial expression was.

“Oh, yeah. Beomgyu did something to make the microwave explode once; I still don’t know how he managed to do it.”

Hanni snorted at the thought of Beomgyu doing that, finding it funny how that just made sense for the boy to do. 

“He’s so stupid,” Hanni says with a light laugh.

“He is,” Yn said with a disappointed look, shaking her head with her hands on her hips as if she were a disappointed mother.

After a couple of minutes of waiting, the front door swung open, making Hanni perk up. “I’m home! And I brought a new microwave!” Beomgyu's voice echoed throughout the house as he walked closer into the house.

Beomgyu's brows furrowed at the silence. He walked farther in the hallway, close to where the girls were in the living room. "Oh, my god. What if she was dead? What if the microwave got to her?” Beomgyu mumbled to himself, loud enough for the girls to hear in the other room, making the pair turn to each other, holding back a laugh that’s begging to spill out.

“Yn!” Beomgyu yelled out, now walking into the living room where the two girls stood.

Beomgyu looked between them, microwave in hand, now realizing why Yn called him home.

She set him up.

“You set me up?” Beomgyu asked. Acting as if his sister had set him up for something horrible. Which wasn't; he’s just dramatic.

“You stole her skateboard.” Yn speaks as she walks up to the boy, slapping his neck.

“Hey!”

“Hi!” Yn replied, giving the boy another slap. Beomgyu let out a sigh, rubbing his neck to ease the pain.

“Stop hitting me! I’m older!” Beomgyu complained.

“Older and stupid. Give her skateboard back.” Yn told him, pointing to Hanni, who was trying to hold back a laugh from Yn slapping Beom. Beomgyu scowled at Hanni, noticing that she was laughing at the situation.

Hanni noticed this and shrugged, “What? You took my board.”

“But you took my Bob!”

Hanni rolled her eyes with a snort. “And what? I look better in it.” Hanni teased the boy while gesturing to her head. She still had the wig on, and she was right. She did look into it.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes before turning to his sister and saying, “Kick her out before I snatch that thing off her head.” Beomgyu walked away with the microwave in hand.

“Where is her board?” Yn yelled out to the boy. He turned around quickly, pointing to the front door with his body before facing away from his sister to place the microwave on a counter.

Yn shook her head with a smile at Beomgyu’s dramatic exit before turning towards Hanni. “Well, you can steal your board back.”

“Thank you.” Hanni gave Yn an awkward smile before walking towards the door and grapping her skateboard.

“Uh, I’ll go now, thanks.” It was almost like a fuse switch, Hanni immediately going from slightly normal to her normal awkward self, who can just barely talk to pretty girls.

Yn noticed the sudden switch, finding it entertaining more than anything. “So you’re back to being awkward?”

Hanni scratched her hand awkwardly and said, “Yeah, I guess so.” She replied.

“But thanks for letting me wait here.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Yn said with the tiniest that Hannni could not see since she was too buddy, avoiding Yn’s face. "Try not to run over people with your board or lose it to some idiot.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Beomgyu’s voice echoed from the other room.

“Good!” Yn yelled back at him.

Hanni smiled at the interaction, “I’ll try not to. Especially lose it to some idiot.”

“Guys, What the fuck, I’m literally in the other room!” Beomgyu once again yelled from the kitchen with annoyance.

“Shut up, bob boy,” Yn said.

And with that, Hanni slowly moved to the house door. Sending a quick wave before walking out of the house. Almost immediately regretting it.

“I was in the same house as her, and I didn't ask her for a number... again.” Hanni sighed at her stupidity and wasted the opportunity to ask for the girl's number again.

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[OPEN] TAGSLIST ༄ @saysirhc @aeriigfs @sixflame438 @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @luvqiris @frenchyypoo @wintersgff @somedaydream @gayforalll @stareaa @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje

[starscabaret]

☆First Date Yandere! Vincent☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader 

summary: first date and head canons at end

warnings: n/a 

authors note:

You opened your window, slowly at first, you sensed no danger but still aired on the side of caution. 

“Vincent, I know you’re out here stop being a fucking creep and ask to come in.” You huffed at the poorly hidden lanky man. 

He thought you didn’t know he lurked outside of your house staring at you. You knew and instead of being scared and calling the cops like you probably should have … you oddly found it endearing. 

“Uhm hey I’m sorry … I just …. I don’t know.” said a red-faced Vincent, as he moved from his hiding spot rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“Whatever I don’t care, just don’t be outside my house creepin’ like a damn thief in the night.” You said outwardly annoyed even though you really weren’t. You weren’t angry more so curious about his interest in watching you.

After you let him in through your bedroom window, once he stepped inside, he locked it. You then guided him to your living room for a bit of Southern hospitality…. just sweet tea and pound cake for now. 

He sat on your couch looking largely out of place but still so handsome to you. 

“OK, so what’s your deal? Are you trynna kill me? rape me? date me? what?” You spoke rapid-firing questions, no need to beat around the bush. 

“Uh no none of that I’m so sorry y/n, I just, I, I don’t know, I think I’m interested in you.” He stuttered out.

“You think or you know?” you said hand on your hip. 

“I want you to like me, I want to make you smile.” Vincent said nervously. 

“I think you’re trying to ask me on a date.” You replied.

“Is that what people normally do? Is that what you’d want your man to do for you?” Vincent questioned. He obviously had little to no understanding of dating and romance. 

“I believe so, so when and where to?” you asked smiling and smirking.

“Uh can I pick you up tomorrow at 5?” he shyly asked. 

“Yes Vinny, now get out, and I better not catch you in my fucking yard again.” You said while shooing him to the door. 

After you slammed the door in his face Vincent was mind blown. You hadn’t called the cops. and you two were going on a date.

Since he had laid eyes on you Vincent started googling all kinds of silly childish things like, how to tell if you like someone? does she like me? what is a date?

But now he finally had a date planned and he was freaking out. He knew nothing, and he could not fuck this up. Google could only help him so much… It was time to call his mother and ask for advice.

He really didn’t want to; it was his last resort. His mother would be very dramatic, he was sure. But it was you, he needed all the help he could get so he bit the bullet.

He had never expressed any romantic or sexual interest in anyone, let alone to his mother. But for you, he felt both. 

After speaking with his mother on the phone for hours, he felt equipped to court you. It wouldn’t be normal. He wasn’t normal, He couldn’t love you normally. But he could love you. And after his courtship, he wondered if you would love him too.

He knew that his brain was different, and so did his mother, that’s why he wasn’t shocked at his odd attraction to you. He just knew he needed and wanted you. He understood that much. 

From what he knew about you from your first encounter to the few conversations you two had during his time working near your home. He found you enchanting. He felt like you were missing something, and he could be all of that. He would be all of that for you.

He knew even more about you from the time he’d spent outside of your house. Yes, it was wrong, but he liked to see your face before he drove home for the evening. If he didn’t, he’d have to wait until you woke up and went on to your porch the next morning. That was too long for him.

The next day when he took you on your date, you wanted nothing more than to take the gentle giant home with you forever. 

☆⋆。𖦹°‧★☆⋆。𖦹°‧★☆⋆。𖦹°‧★☆⋆。𖦹°‧★☆⋆。𖦹°‧★☆⋆。𖦹°‧★

yandere! Vincent brought you a bundle of beautiful large white lilies when he knocked on the door to pick you up for your date. 

yandere! Vincent held you closer as you hugged him in thanks for the flowers. He looked down at you and used his huge hand to tilt your chin so he could examine your face. 

yandere! Vincent opened the door to his car for you and even buckled you in. 

yandere! Vincent lets you choose the music, while internally remembering the type of music you enjoyed. 

yandere! Vincent held your hand tightly in his as you walked into the restaurant he chose.

yandere! Vincent listened to everything you talked about on your date. When you asked him questions and he answered right away. 

yandere! Vincent refuses to leave the restaurant if you don’t pick a dessert. He wouldn’t have one, but he insisted you deserved it. 

yandere! Vincent is very nervous if the date is going well, but you keep smiling and it warmed his heart. 

yandere! Vincent didn’t want the date to end as he drove you home from your last stop of the night. But he couldn’t think of a way to keep you longer. 

yandere! Vincent’s phone rang while he drove, and he asked that you answer it to your surprise. He wouldn’t risk any reckless driving, not while you were in his car. 

yandere! Vincent’s mom was on the other side, she audibly gasped when she heard a woman’s voice. She knew right away who you are and she began to embarrass Vinny by saying how much he likes you, how much he talks about you, even the dumb things he did as a kid. By the end of the phone call, you were crying with laughter. His mother was hilarious and kind-hearted. Vinny just drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, he wasn’t worried about the conversation between you too. Once parked on your street Vincent took his phone and spoke to his mother briefly before hanging up. 

yandere! Vincent told you his mother said goodnight and that you are a doll. He walks you to the entrance of your home after unbuckling you and opening your door. When at the door you invite him in. You aren’t ready to leave him either.

[johnwickb1tsch]

🌻Small Town Girl🌻 ~ Part 2

Tex Johnson thought he was just passing through…until he set his eyes on you. 

Part 2 of a little Tex x Reader fic for my beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff. ILYSM!😘

Warnings: mentions of past spousal abuse, mentions of animal abuse, religious trauma...you know, the usual social problems of depressed rural america... I can say that because I live here. divider by saradika part 1

2. 

You’re a heavy sleeper, but this takes the cake.

When you stagger into your kitchen and look out the window Tex’s Chevelle is parked half in your gravel driveway, half in your yard. And tethered to your fence post munching green grass to his heart’s content is a certain miniature equine who you’d tried to acquire with cold hard cash the night before.

Fuck.

You march outside in your threadbare nightgown and your bare feet, finding Tex asleep in the driver’s seat. How the hell did he even get this horse here with that car?

If he put Ziggy in the trunk you are going to murder him.

You pound on the window, and he wakes with a violent start. “Popsicles!”

“What?”

He looks around, before fixing on you, and seems to relax a hair. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

“What. The fuck. Did you do?”

“Uh…funny story…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What? Didn’t you want this horse?”

“Yeah, but…” You pull at your hair, feeling a migraine coming on already. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

You turn in the dew-wet grass to go check on Ziggy. You hear Tex exiting the car behind you. “Don’t be mad, baby.”

“I’m not mad,” you answer sadly, running your fingers through the little horse’s coarse blond mane. “I’m scared.”

Ziggy nibbles at your fingers with his meaty lips, wanting the treats he associates you with. He was going to need a whole lot more than molasses cookies though. You could already tell how your day was going to go.

“Don’t be scared either, darlin’,” Tex says behind you.

“Easy for you to say. You realize this is the first place Dale is gonna come look? And he’ll probably bring Donnie too.”

Nevermind the restraining order you have. It won’t stop him. He’s friends with half the sheriff’s deputies anyway. The Barksdales are damn near untouchable. You learned that the oh so hard way.

“Honey, I’m not going to let them hurt you.” 

For the sake of the horse you keep your temper in check, moderating your voice when all you want to do is yell. “What are you going to do? Watch over me every minute of the day?” He lifts his brows like he likes that idea–you do too, which is batshit insane, because you don’t actually know a goddamn thing about this man.

“Hold on. How did you even know where I live?”

He shrugs. “Not hard to find out, if you know where to look.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all.”

You guess all he’d have to do is ask at the gas station–your family’s been here long enough that it’s basically common knowledge.

You stand there in your faded floral muumuu and your bare feet, toe to toe with this tall dark man and if you had any sense you would be afraid…but you’re not. You’re not because you just don’t think he’ll hurt you. You feel it in your bones and you haven’t had that certainty about any man in so long you can’t remember, and it’s driving you a little wild inside.

“I need my boots,” you sigh, and brush past him to go back to the house.

***

You put Ziggy in the farthest back stall of your barn, where he’ll be out of sight should anyone come looking. With a flake of hay and some grains in his bucket, he seems perfectly content, the sweet sound of him munching filling the old oak building. You lean on a rough sawn post and watch him with a storm in your heart, wondering how long its been since he’d been able to eat his fill.

There will be a price to pay for this little horse’s well being, and you decide whatever it is will be worth it, even if you are afraid. Tex’s presence might deter vengeance for a little while, but he won’t be here forever. You know he won’t, no matter how nice it is to think it, so you’d better be ready.

You were going to have to think on this.

But first, you were going to have to call the ferrier. Luckily you had a friend who wouldn’t rat you out to the Barksdales. Angela was tough as nails and didn’t kowtow to their bullshit. 

It occurs to you that maybe the best thing for Ziggy, and the best thing for you, might be to get this horse far away from here. You wouldn’t put it past Dale or Donnie or one of his other heartless relatives to sneak into your barn in the dead of night and do something awful. There wouldn’t be a whole lot you could do about it either.

You’ve had this horse for about 5 seconds, and the thought of giving him up already breaks your heart.

Tex has been standing silently beside you. You feel his eyes on you, but in what you suspect is a rare occurrence, he’s not running his mouth, giving you space to think. But when you give a heavy sigh he finally breaks. “Come on, darlin’, I thought this would make you happy. It kills me to see you sad.” He opens his arms to you, but you eye them warily. It’s too tempting by far. The way this man is dangerous to you, is that you could get too used to his company too quick.

“You want breakfast?” you deflect.

He nods, those dark eyes taking the measure of you, looking through you, you’re afraid, right into your soul. “Sure.” But he doesn’t move, still just looking at you. 

“What?” you grouse.

Your annoyance only makes him grin.

“Did I mention you’re the cutest little thing in a muumuu and muck boots this side of the Mississippi?”

You roll your eyes, not believing him for a minute. Your hair is still in its bird’s nest of a sleeping braid and you haven’t had your coffee yet. With hands on your hips you look him over too. He’s still wearing the same shirt as last night, and his eyes are a little bloodshot.

“Did you tie one on last night and steal that horse?”

He scrubs at the back of his neck, looking all the while like a guilty schoolboy. “Well…about that…”

This is the thing that finally breaks through your black mood, lifting your sorrow like a blanket. The thought of this man committing grand theft pony–dare you think it, for you–brings a small smile to your lips, and a whole lot of sunshine to your heart.

“Tell me in the house. I’m hungry.” When he doesn’t immediately budge you turn him by the shoulders and give him a shove. Without really thinking about it, you smack his ass for good measure. That tight little behind is round, and firm, and you bite your lip without meaning to, wishing it was something else.

He makes a show of jumping with surprise, smirking at you knowingly over his shoulder. “Watch it, baby girl, or I’mma get myself a handful next,” he warns you with a wicked glint in his eye that makes your insides churn. 

You don’t know what insane notion possesses you, when you stick out your tongue at him– and run. 

You're smarter than this. You know you don't run from a predator. You face them down and smack them on the nose. 

His laughter from right behind you makes an electric thrill zip from your heart to your toes. Dear Lord. No man should be this much fun. 

He really is like a drug, and you don’t know what you were thinking running from him, because you are not fast, and you are clumsy, but somehow it’s him behind you who lets out a surprised yell.

You turn to find Tex with his foot in a hole up to his calf. “Oh my god. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He extricates himself, and you both peer down into a tunnel running under the aisle of your dirt floor barn. You look at the direction, and follow it to an unoccupied stall. Throwing open the door, you find mounds and mounds of freshly disturbed earth.

“Motherfucker. That groundhog is back.”

Tex looks at the impressive damage with eyebrows raised high. “Goddam. You sure it ain’t a bear? Or a rogue bulldozer?”

“Yes. I can’t deal with this now. Come on.” You take his hand, pulling him towards the house, and he happily follows.

You pause at the front door. “Umm…it’s going to be chaos for a minute. Fair warning.” Then you lead him into the fray.

Chichi is a tiny black and tan tornado at your feet, yipping and screaming. You shake a treat can and hand one to Tex. “Give this to him if you want to live.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tex complies, crouching down to the little dog’s level to offer the morsel. Chichi gobbles it and quiets down, switching to sniffing and licking as Tex scratches his side. His hand is almost as big as your dog, and it touches your heart, how sweet he is to the little creature. Satisfied, Chichi runs back to you for a snuggle.

“We good now?” you ask the little chihuahua. He licks you fervently, and you laugh, setting him back down on the floor. Your bulldog reacts in the exact opposite manner, not even getting out of her bed, only deigning to open one eye to regard your visitor. Your conure has joined in the cacophony, and will not quiet until you give him a piece of apple.

“I hope you like fresh eggs and bacon, it’s all I got.”

“Alright.” He seems amused by you, and the happy mayhem of your home, looking around with a sparkle in his eye. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” You point him in the right direction and go to the kitchen, lighting a burner under your cast iron skillet. You busy yourself with frying bacon and cracking eggs and filling the kettle for coffee. You are so concentrated on your task that it takes you a moment to notice Tex leaning on the door jam–sans shirt.

You blink, and nearly put your hand in the hot pan. “You forget something?” you ask, trying like hell not to stare at the broad expanse of muscled torso before you. Jesus fucking christ, that’s not fair.

“My clean shirts are back at the motel,” he defends. 

His hair is slightly damp from washing up, looking unfairly edible.

He sidles closer, and you notice the top button of his jeans is undone. A long scar runs down the center of his abdomen, leading your eye to a dark patch of hair that disappears into his waistband. 

Evil. This man is pure evil–and you want to taste every inch of him.

“My eyes are up here, darlin’,” he says with a smirk. 

“You are a menace,” you grouse, holding up a spatula in defense as he just keeps getting closer. He smirks, looking down at the implement.

“You gonna spank me, sweetheart?”

“I would, but I’m afraid you’d like it.”

You are warm all over, and it has nothing to do with slaving over a hot stove.

“Can I help?”

Like he hasn’t helped enough.

“Sure. Pour that hot water into that carafe.”

He looks between the french press, the kettle, and you. “Ever heard of a Mr. Coffee?”

“We don’t tolerate weak coffee in this house.”

He grins at you, doing as he’s told. He even knows to stir it with a wooden spoon, which makes you think he was just pulling your leg.

While you are flipping bacon you feel him zero in behind you, the line of warmth from his body like a heat lamp at your back. “Smells wonderful,” he says, daring to touch your waist.

“It’s meat candy, what do you expect?” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the bacon, or him. 

“Hmm.” His chuckle is a low rumble behind you. You feel it reverberate in your bones. The tips of his fingers press into your sides as he grips fistfuls of your nightgown–and you–as he nuzzles your hair. The sound you make as you wiggle in his arms is almost cartoonish. He takes no mercy, laughing and holding you closer. The warm, solid line of his body behind you is divine, so wonderful you can hardly stand it.

“You are going to make me burn the bacon!” you screech in an attempt at self-defense.

“That’s alright, I’ll just eat you for breakfast,” he tells you in that low growl that makes your knees weak, ducking to nibble at your ear. It’s possible you give in for a few seconds, your head rocking back against his shoulder as he holds you. Why does it have to feel like you fit together so well? When his long fingers bunch in your skirt, pulling it up as his other hand reaches for your breast you think you might combust. In a panic you smack his hand with the spatula with a little scream, trying not to giggle. 

“Go sit down!”

With a wicked chuckle he skips out of reach before you can smack him again, collapsing into one of the old wooden kitchen chairs. His smoldering gaze meets yours, and you feel unsettled. 

This man. Lord save you.

Or not. Maybe…you don’t want to be saved.

“I don’t know how you do things in Texas, but here you don’t get to feel a girl up just because you rustled a horse for her.”

He grins, baring his teeth like he means to eat you.

“Sorry, darlin’, blame the muumuu.”

You try to keep a straight face, but in the end you fail utterly. 

“You gonna tell me how all this happened?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“No, but I should.”

“Hmm. Well, after the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met abandoned me at the fair–”

“Oh save it, Mr. L.A. stuntman.”

He grins but goes on, “I had to do something to nurse my broken heart. So I went to the aforementioned TJ’s by the creek…”

“Ok, this is starting to make sense.”

You start setting dishes of food and plates on the table. Eggs, bacon, toast, butter and jam, and of course, coffee. “And I only had one drink, because I’m a cautious sort of fellow…”

“Yes, that has been made glaringly apparent in the short time I've known you.”

He nods in agreement with a fey glint in his eye all the while. “And who walks in, but our friend Dale…”

“Oh god. You didn’t pick a fight with him, did you?”

“I did not. I went out to the parking lot, to find his horse trailer still full of petting zoo employees conveniently two cars away from mine.”

You cover your mouth, so he can’t see the absolutely feral grin forming on your lips. “You didn’t.”

“I so did. Let the goats out to disperse in the woods there, and wouldn’t you know Ziggy fit right in my passenger seat?”

You are picturing this big tough man in his muscle car peeling out down the road with that cute little horse as a co-pilot. That must be the point when you officially lose your sanity, because you crawl into his lap, planting a big kiss right on his mouth. He lets out a low moan of appreciation, cupping your rear end in his two big hands.

“Tex?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“You’re a goddamned hero.”

“I know! I’ve been trying to tell you,” he says with a grin, stealing another kiss.

You try to extricate yourself to go sit in the opposite chair, but he will not let you. You eat breakfast together, sitting in his lap, his big warm hand on your thigh while you giggle and feed each other morsels and talk, and you can’t help but feel like things might turn out afterall.

***

Tex is helping you do the dishes, or maybe distracting you from doing the dishes, because he keeps plying you with toe curling kisses, when the two of you watch a battered red Chevy pickup pull down your driveway.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing it immediately.

“Here we go. Later than I expected.”

You look up at him open mouthed, an involuntary fear response coursing through your veins, turning your limbs ice cold. “You expected?”

“It’s alright, darlin’. Stay inside.” He kisses your forehead, cradling your cheek with a sweet assurance that you want to believe in, more than anything. It would be too good to be true, to have a man who could really protect you. Someone you could just…depend on. You want it with every fiber of your being, and rather than get your shotgun and run out to the porch on bare feet, you stand there in the kitchen and watch Tex go out the door, pulling a white t-shirt down over a blocky black object tucked into the back of his jeans.

Oh Lord. 

Predictably, Dale is driving, and your blood turns to ice as your piece-of-shit ex spills out of the passenger seat. And even though you know the very Devil is standing there in your driveway, your first thought, as ever when seeing Donnie Barksdale, is damn he looks good. 

There really is something wrong with you. 

He’s wearing a flannel with the sleeves cut off and his usual trucker hat advertising some manner of farm implement (as if he’s ever worked that hard). As always, the sight of Donnie feels like a sharp knife shoved up between your ribs. No matter what he did to you, a part of you will always love that man, or at least, the boy he was when he was your friend, your first love, before he became so hell bent on destroying you. To this day, you do not understand what you ever did to that man, to make him turn on you so violently. You offered him all the love in your heart, and in turn he made you feel worthless. For a time, you actually believed it was true. Now you know better, but it’s been a long, hard road.

“Who the hell are you?” barks Donnie up at the self-assured man standing sentry on your front porch. 

“That’s not what you should be worryin’ about right now,” answers Tex, leaning on the post. 

“That a fact?” 

“Yep. The thing you should be worryin’ about is that you’re trespassin’.” 

Dale exits his truck, leaning on the dented hood. “That’s the fucker that hit me last night, Donnie.” 

Donnie nods, sizing Tex up. The thing about Donnie is…he doesn’t like to get into a fight he doesn’t know he’s going to win. And Tex is a helluva wildcard. It’s possible your no-good wife-beatin’ ex finally met his match. 

“He’s leaving out the bit about askin’ for it. Is beatin’ on y/n y/l/n just a universal pastime in this county for you boys when you run outta pigs to fuck, or what?” drawls Tex, picking at his fingernails. 

Donnie bristles at this, taking a step forward. “Motherfucker–” 

“That’s as far as you go, son,” warns Tex, producing the object from the back of his jeans. You knew it was a gun. You did not know it was that big of a gun. Donnie is wearing his usual inscrutable aviators, but Dale’s eyes go wide. 

“We’re just here to get my stolen horse, mister,” says Dale, holding his hands up. 

“Aww, you boys missin’ your lil’ pony? Better check the lost and found then. It ain’t here.” 

“We’ll have a look for ourselves,” spits Donnie, stepping towards the barn. 

Boom!

The report of the pistol is deafening, and the bullet sends up an explosion of gravel right in front of Donnie’s feet. The dogs and the bird go crazy, starting up and barking and screeching. Donnie jumps backwards three feet, his glasses falling off into the dirt. The expression of fear on his face is as rare as it is priceless. 

“You crazy asshole!”

You scoop up Chichi, trying to comfort him. The little dog trembles like a leaf in your arms. You murmur nonsense to it, but your eyes are glued to the confrontation outside, adrenaline rolling through your veins like flash flood water. You realize you’re shaking almost as badly as the dog. 

“Guilty. Ever seen a Desert Eagle? Shoots a big fuckin’ bullet. A .50 caliber round will explode your kneecap like an apple.” Tex whistles with appreciation, and you’re pretty sure Donnie goes pale. “Wanna test my aim today? I might miss and hit you in the balls.” 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this the way you are, but God did that man have it coming. 

 “We should call the Sheriff on you!” 

“Please do. This is a ‘stand your ground’ state. We can tell him about how you’re trespassing, and I’m pretty sure you ain’t supposed to be within 300 yards of that pretty little thing watchin’ us from the kitchen.” 

Donnie’s attention zeroes in on the window, and you sense it like a laser sight fixed upon you. You hate it, how just that hateful look makes you flinch. 

“Y/n!” Donnie calls. “Come out here!” 

“She don’t need to come out here,” says Tex. “She ain’t gonna save you.” 

Donnie seems actually surprised, when you do not obey him, staying put in your spot in the kitchen. 

When the two men just stand there in the driveway, frozen and speechless, Tex cocks the pistol for show. “You need another demonstration? Git!”

“This ain’t over, fucker!” spits Donnie, pointing menacingly–from a safe distance. 

“You better hope it is. Don’t come back, and if either one of you ever touches her again I’ll kill you. That’s a promise. Now get the fuck out of here!” 

Spoiling for a fight but clearly outgunned, the two men back towards the truck, slowly climbing in. “There you go. See ya, bronies!” 

Tex waves the pistol in their direction, and you hear Donnie yell at Dale, “Fuck! Drive! Drive!”

Dale peels out, leaving ruts in your gravel and a dust cloud as they go.

Tex stays on the porch watching until their truck is good and gone. When he finally makes it back into the house you are a teary-eyed little mess. When he sees you the flint in his eyes immediately softens. “Aw, don’t cry honey, c’mere.” You do, and with your head resting on the solid warm wall that is this man’s chest you start to lose it. 

“You actually did it.” 

“Course I did. I told you I would,” he says, stroking your hair as he holds you.

“But…you actually did it,” you say again, because you still cannot believe what just happened. No man has managed to stand up to Donnie Barksdale since your Grandpa, at 80 years old, who stood between you and Donnie in the very same spot on the porch, with the same 12 gauge you still keep behind the hutch, and threatened to cut your then-husband in half if he took another step closer. 

It was the last night Donnie beat on you, and broke your orbital bone, two of your teeth, and your arm. You’d escaped into the dark woods that night, and even though you are not stealthy or fast you managed by some miracle to make it through the brush and thorns and barbed wire fences the two miles to your grandparents’ farm house. It was the last straw, and you finally set the wheel in motion to divorce him the next day. 

You are not a pretty crier, but Tex lets you soak his shirt with tears and snot, holding you and murmuring sweet nonsense. “That’s right, honey, get it out. It’s ok.”

For once, it doesn’t sound like an empty placation. Donnie seemed genuinely scared of Tex, and Dale is an even bigger coward than Donnie. Maybe…they really will just leave you alone. 

Stranger things have happened. 

“I’m sorry,” you wheeze, trying to pull away to get a tissue. “I’m a mess.” 

But Tex pulls you back, not seeming to care one bit, and when his lips touch yours it really does seem like everything in the world has turned right. 

Amusingly, Chichi has been sandwiched between all this in your arms, and only just begins to put up a grumble of protest. “Oh hush, lil buddy,” says Tex, not unkindly, scratching the little dog under the chin. He does nearly the same thing to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “You alright?”

You nod and offer a watery smile, setting the dog down on the ground. It’s not what Chichi wants, but he’ll live. “Yes. Thank you.” 

If Donnie believed what Tex said…you do too. There is something dangerous about this man. A wildness that makes his threat feel like a promise. You guess that when the law fails you, what you truly need is an outlaw who keeps his word. Yet you truly believe he’s not a danger to you. You feel safe with him, and maybe that’s the biggest miracle of all. 

“As silly as this sounds after the morning we’ve had…I really do have to go to work.” 

“Alright. I’ll drive you.” A part of you wants to say it’s not necessary. But the other half of you? Just wants to bask in this new found feeling of security while it lasts. You can’t expect Tex to stick around forever to babysit you. But for right now…god, it feels good, to not have to carry this weight all on your own shoulders. 

You kiss him again, and it is warm, and sweet as sugar cookies fresh from the oven. You melt into him, and with his strong arms around your waist, then lower, it is very hard to get up the motivation to go clean up and put on your uniform. 

“Honey, you keep kissin’ me like that and we’re not goin’ anywhere.” 

It’s embarrassing, but you know the sound you make in answer is something like a cat in heat, your fingers curling in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You feel his words inside you–in the rhythm of your heart, and the throb of your loins. It’s damn near unbearable, this sudden restlessness you feel inside.

You don’t have anyone else to depend on, so you always have to do the responsible thing. Go to work. Get the money. Pay the bills. No one escapes the bullshit death march of Capitalism, except the fuckers who are running the game.

And yet. Maybe…just this once…you could call in sick. 

You stand on tiptoe to kiss him again, grabbing fistfuls of the fluffy waves of his now dried hair. “Tex?” 

“Yeah, baby.” His voice is pure honey dripping golden in the sun. 

“Let’s go upstairs.” His big hands flex against the soft curves of your hips, grabbing fistfuls of nightgown like he’s thinking about tearing it off of you. Incredibly, he says nothing glib, just nods. But when he looks down at you for a long, heated moment–you think he could burn down the world, with the fire in that dark gaze. 

“Lead the way, darlin’.” 

You take his big, beautiful hands in yours, and pull him towards the stairs.

[unidentified-ending]

What's up bro! I was just wondering weather you could make a little oneshot-headcanon about a male student in aizawas class who's younger brother (age 4-5) is quite dangerous due to his quirk but he's never done anything and he's been declined from multiple daycares and his parents are super stressed but Aizawa ends up taking the male reader younger brother to U.A's daycare and everyone in the dorms loves him bc he's so cute.

Thanks man, have a good day!!!!!

A/N: of course bro, this request is so cute so buckle up for some fluffy, maybe ooc aizawa and a cute younger brother.

This can be read as a trans or cis dude but if trans js imagine you got top surgery at a young age (not that young tho!). It's not mentioned anyways

Your parents were stressed. Like stressed stressed.

Your younger brother with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes was boping around in your living room.

His name was Kuragari and he could destroy all of reality in one clap of his hand

But it's never happened before, but most people stay away from the cute ball of happiness.

When he was a child (2-3), everyone would stay away from him but he had you

Y/n L/n, a (personality trait) boy who was in class 1a, UA. Aspiring hero, and the best brother anyone could ask for.

Anyways back to the point.

Your parents were stressed, Kuragari's power was getting in the way of his daycare applications.

He was dangerous and so nobody came near him bc of "the sake of the other children"

And your parents both worked and you went to school so it was a hell of a time trying to do something for him

He'd usually get a baby sitter but he'd cry a couple of hours in, begging for you and his parents.

Which made either you, your mother or father come home from work early and have to settle him down

But that when the offer of you life came true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/n" you hear a faint voice call for you.

"Y/n!" The same voice but louder said again.

"Y/N!" The person said and you shot up straight away, the redness in your eyes and the bags under them were a huge sign of no sleep.

You looked around, you were in your classroom but nobody was in there, just your homeroom teacher calling out for you.

"Yes sir! I'm up, I'm up." You exclaimed into the empty room, your brother had woken up crying at exactly 2:27 am yesterday night and your parents wouldn't wake up so you had to deal with Kuragari by yourself and that lasted duntil 4:16 am when he decided to sleep. And you knew you had to wake up at 7 tomorrow so only 3 hours of sleep didn't toll well on your body.

"It's break, why are you still sleeping?" Aizawa questioned, though not making any visable facial expressions.

"I-uh, I just didn't get enough sleep. I'm okay" You said, blinking in drowsiness

Aizawa raised an eyebrow and said "Are you sure? Is there something I need to know?"

"Nah, not really. It's just my younger brother Kuragari. He's been declined by so many daycares' bescuse his quirk is too dangerous for the daycare but hes never actually used it before." You explain and Aizawa listens intently.

"He can break reality in one clap of his hands but he's so cute, he's 5 this year and me, my mother and my father have been extremely stressed about this issue because nobody can baby sit him for more then five hours before he starts to throw a fit and cry. And we have to take care of him at night and its very tiring."

Aizawa listened to your story all the way through and at the end he said, "How about we take him and we can take care of him? It's up to your parents though." Your eyes glimmered at the idea and you told him you'd ask them this evening.

That evening~~~~

"Mum, Dad. I've got news! Sensei Aizawa said he's take in Kuragari into the U.A daycare! Only if you want." You exclaimed when you got into the house and ran straight into your living room.

"Wait what?" Your father said, a hint of surprisment in his voice. "Really?" You mother said, a huge smile growing on her face.

"Yes!" You shouted with picking up your little brother and he immediately started laughing and clapping his hands together in excitement even though he had no idea what you were talking about.

A few hours later

"So what do we need to do to get Kuragari in there?" Your mother said while feeding him some food.

"Nothing, we just have to bring him in tomorrow and they take him in, look after him and there is another sweet girl called Eri in there. She's so sweet and I think they would get along together."

"Are you sure about this, honey?" Your father said to your mother

"It's a opportunity we must take. For the sake of our sleep" Your mother yawned.

Your father nodded on agreement.

"Alright then, but it's your responsibility to dress and wash him in the morning because we have work tomorrow. Fair?" Your father asked while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Fair" you agreed while picking up Kuragari and placing him on the couch and turning on some baby shows.

The next morning~~~~~~

You looked at a snoozing Kuragari at 6:50 am. You knew he was gonna throw a fit about waking this early but he had to get up.

You picked up the snoozing boy and cradled him in your hands, gently rubbing your finger over his forehead to wake him.

He started to fidget in your hands and kick his legs about. That's when he opened his ayes and started wailing.

"Shh, shh it's okay. I need you to wake up for me." You say as you kissed his head and put him in his baby chair.

You made his baby breakfast and ate your own, he was still glaring at you for waking him up early.

After that, you ran a bath for the two of you while he played with some of his toys.

"Kuragari." You exclaimed and he came crawling over to the bathroom with a toy car in his hand.

You undressed him and put him in the bath and you also got in. He flapped around with his bath toys in the bath, accidentally hitting you with some bubbles.

"You silly child" you sighed before taking him out and dressing him in some new clothes.

"Alright lil bro, I'm gonna carry you to school today. So climb on my back." You said while taking your keys and unlocking your front door.

You crouched down do he could climb on your back and he crawled up your back and seated himself right on your shoulders.

Off you two go to school~~~

Surprisingly you were the only two there in your class. Mean class did start at 8:20 and you two got there at 7:59 so it was pretty early.

You went to sit at your desk and then you took your brother off your head and placed him on your desk, then placed your own head on the desk, hoping for some of your own sleep.

Your promised it would 5 minutes but 5 minutes turned into 15.

Your self-consciousness was telling you to get awake and that's when you shot up awake, immediately in search for you younger brother.

"Kuragari" you said, your eyes darted across the room but all you could see were your fellow classmates crowded around something..or someone.

"Where's my brother?" You said in panic and the whole class looked at you in surprise.

"You mean this bundle of joy" Denki said as he held your smiling and laughing brother in his hands.

Your face immediately relaxed, you hadn't lost him.

"I'm so sorry guys-" you started but Mina interrupted.

"There no need to be sorry he's so cute!" She said while the rest if the class agreed with him. You went to join the classmates of yours and when he saw you he did his signature grabby hands and you picked him up.

"Bakugo saw you sleeping when he came in then me spotted your brother on his desk. He carefully just put him back on your desk and sat down."

Bakugo tsked at his desk but didn't deny it.

"What's he even doing here anyways?" Sero says as he laughs with Kuragari.

"Oh it's a long story, so-" then a door slammed open and Aizawa walked in.

"What is going here?" He questioned and everyone moved out the way of Kuragari and Aizawa had one look at the child and back at you and he knew you two were siblings.

Kuragari on the other hand started to cry at the old grizzled man and immediately started to grab onto Deku's shirt.

"Sorry man, he's a bit grumpy. I'll take him out." You say to deku and he waves it off completely fine.

When you walk out of the room, Aizawa walked out as well.

"Sorry sensei, he's just-"

"Yeah yeah, I know. Let's just get him in the daycare and we can start lessons" Aizawa said and the two of you walked to the daycare in silence.

You dropped him off to the daycare in silence where he met Eri and they got along together.

The two of you walked back together to class in silence before Aizawa said. "He looks like you".

"Really?" You say, surprised at the comment.

"Yeah, I bet he's a hard one to deal with."

"Oh he is" you say, enjoying the small talk.

"I can see where he gets it from" he says and you accidentally let out a chuckle.

You knew you had a good teacher.

[justice-maul]

Hey hey so glad that you are feeling good about your desicion. Now, may I have some tony x male reader where the reader is a lot younger than him and tony and him have a contract where tony pays the reader's bills and in exchange just wants the reader to fuck the shit out of him?

Tony Stark x Younger Male Reader | Headcanons

Author Note: Keep in mind, English isn’t my first language, thank you so much anon and so sorry for the wait, hope this makes up for it because I ADORE writing for Tony 🤤

Warning(s)⚠: Top reader, age gap (unspecified but legal), size difference (Reader is big), dom reader, mentions of praise, degradation, and rough sex (lol sorry if I forgot any)

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

You worked near Stark Towers but in a less... luxurious area, the job paid well enough but living in New York, you lived a very cheap and humble life that wasn't exactly your choice

There was a cafe near your job and Stark Industries, you would often go there on breaks and see some workers around the area, but never in your life did you expect to see the Tony Stark at that cafe nor did anyone else

Tony walked in on his phone, not really paying attention to anyone and got in line right behind you to your surprise, people murmured and whispers, some took pictures and you tried to look ahead and not pay too much attention to it so you can get back to work

Tony sighed, tired after a long day in the lab. All he wanted was a caffeine fix before working for the entire day again. He looked up from his phone, pulling his sunglasses donw to scan through the menu when he noticed you in front of him

A towering figure with broad shoulders stretching the fabric of your shirt even from the back it was impossible to miss your size and Tony always appreciated a good size difference, but it was your eyes that made him catch his breath when you finally peered at him out of curiosity

You cursed your own actions as you two made eye contact and he grinned at you, making you look away quickly and try to focus as you ordered your usual drink

"Can I please a get a (insert preferred drink)?" You asked the barista and pulled out your wallet to get ready to pay when Tony slid in smoothly beside you and ordered his drink as well

"Add a triple shot espresso to that too," he said and winked at the barista before looking up at you, your eyes meeting again and this time you maintained eye contact even as he smirked up at you

"Let me buy your coffee, handsome." He said, not really asking for permission as he inserted his card and payed for you both

"Uhh, thanks for paying for me..." you muttered, not exactly knowing what to say to which he just shrugged with a lazy smile

"Don't worry about it, it was nothing, though you can pay me back by joining me," he said teasingly and grabbed his drink signaling for you to join him at a table to which you hesitantly obliged and sat down with him

"You live around here sweetheart?" He asked you, sipping his drink to which you shook your head, taking a sip of your own drink

"Uh, no I just work around here, paying off some debts," you explained where your work place was and he nodded slowly, knowing that particular job wasn't exactly the best paying

"And how's that going?" He asked with a slight smirk to which you sighed and shrugged

"As well as anyone could guess, by the time I pay this off I'll probably be in a nursing home," you joked and watched as he stirred some sugar into his drink

"Well how about I help you with that handsome?" He offered and titled his head at you in question

Your eyebrow raised in confusion "For what in return?" You asked cautiously and he chuckled softly, lifting the stirring stick to his lips sucking on it suggestively

"Oh nothing too bad, I'll pay for anything and everything you need, plus more, and you just have to do one thing for me..." he paused and pulled the stirring stick out of his mouth teasingly and threw it aside "You get the luxury to fuck me, whenever I ask you to of course," he said and smiled as he sipped his drink and waited for your response

"I- um, wh-what?..." you stuttered, completely caught off guard making him laugh at your reaction "So your gonna pay for all my debt, my bills, and anything else as long as I just... sleep with you?..." you asked him

"Yeah, pretty much, if it makes you more comfortable we can put it in writing, make it a formal contract." He offered smiling cheekily, knowing that his night was about to get a whole lot better than it had been

Over some careful consideration, you agreed, making and signing the contract together, each having your own copy of it. Tony began paying for everything you needed or even happened to mention in passing time, but every week you would fuck his brains out for him as asked

Most days he seemed groggy or tired but he was always in a good mood when you came by and hid it behind his usual smiles and teasing, but he did always look much more happy after your thoroughly fucked his brains out

"Oh yeah, fuck this is just what I needed" he said, arching his hips to meet your thrusts better, his eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy and his hand raking through his hair that stuck to his glistened forehead as your large cock practically split him open

That was how it went, you gave him good dick, in return you got paid (Tony even began giving you "tips" every time you got off him real good) it was simple and you were fine with it, there was nothing that could possibly go wrong with such a perfect arrangement, as long as you don't get attached or catch feelings....

You got both.

But how could you not? Sure he was infuriating at times, a total diva, and an absolute drama queen which was typically embarrassing for his age but... you still couldn't help it, that little smile he gave you every time you showed up, a look of pure relief as if you were fixing all his problems, that moment right before he'd come undone where he would just whisper your name like he was in a trance, and they way he always tried to keep your attention on him

You'd never say anything though, it was far too comfortable, in fact you liked having to do what was considered the bare minimum for a fuck ton of money, it kept you employed and debt free and it kept him plugged up and content. Some days you'd get close, you would actually talk about life or you'd sleep in his bed all day, that sort of thing but both of you were at peace with your arrangement, you knew he wouldn't leave he might fuck around but he always came back, no one had ever taken him the way you do

The way you'd make his moans echo off the wall while giving him those degrading praises, how you'd angle your large cock just right against that one spot and hit it over and over again and yet you'd gently comb through his hair, that harsh grip you had on him that left him bruising for weeks... and yet the way you'd always make sure to never go too far was a luxury he never had before...

Yeah... he was falling hard too, just wasn't aware you were, it was clear the arrangement was fucked to begin with.

Hi hi! Sorry this took so long and sorry if it feels short but I thought I might as well get it goer with, thanks for reading and enjoy!

If you want more like this... check out my Masterlist