#I've never gotten a name from him but I feel like it's something stupid like 'Skippy'

[prolibytherium]

Okay I keep seeing this same fucking guy in my dreams and it's weirding me out because I don't know anyone who looks like this and it's SO consistent. It's this real tall skinny lanky pale guy in a sweaty white tank top. Shitty beard and mustache. Long ponytail. Receding hairline. Covered in horse tattoos. I'm usually trying to buy weed from him.

[itsmarsss]

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[vivwritesfics]

PLEASE can we get more HOAF ?? Maybe their wedding with absolutely adorable Milo and Olivia OR their wedding night 👀👀👀 ~nurse-sainz

as two of you know, I've been seriously thinking about the hoaf second series. It has a title, but, because I don't want to start ANOTHER series until I finish a current one, it's something I'm going to be working on behind the scenes

1.7K

Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy hormones

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

She'd never expected to be pregnant on her wedding day. It was nobody's dream, to be round and swollen while stuffed into a pretty white dress that you just know would look so much better if you weren't pregnant, on your feet all day, unable to partake in any of the drinking.

Her bachelorette party wasn't all that. But she didn't want it to be. The only people she would have invited were the other wags, girls she didn't know all that well. No, her bachelorette party was her and Olivia getting their hair and nails done.

They ended the day getting dinner, just the two of them. They sat there, sharing a too big pizza while Olivia went over her details plans of the wedding.

It was the best bachelorette party ever.

Daniel had two bachelor parties. One that was organised by Max and Lando to be the wildest night of his life, with almost all of the grid accompanying them. And one where he could invite Milo.

The party with Milo was mini golf. Carlos was happy to carry Milo around on his shoulders, teach him all that he knew. The boys had all agreed to let Milo win, but he didn't have to know that. After the golf they had dinner and drinks.

One thing about Milo was he couldn't keep his mouth shut about the baby. Maybe Daniel should have reminded him that Baby Ricciardo was a secret, but he didn't expect Milo to just blurt it out, either.

But none of the drivers were surprised. They couldn't be surprised about baby Ricciardo, not when the couple hadn't exactly been good at hiding it. Daniel's hand on her stomach, the little list of baby names they'd all seen on his phone.

The party without Milo, when Milo was at home with Olivia and his momma, it really was a party. Loud music, drinks, dancing, it had everything. But, the moment Daniel got more than three drinks in his system, he was talking about her.

Arm over Max's shoulder as he slurred out his name and how much he loved her. "I want to have another girl," he said to Max, but it was barely audible. "A little girl that looks just like her."

When she had her first dress fitting, there wasn't a bump. Or, at least, the bump did little to change her frame. Her dream dress fit like a glove and Daniel's mother was crying.

It was naïve to think that the dress would still fit by the time the wedding rolled around. Her bump had gotten exponentially bigger, to the point where she couldn't hit it anymore. Now that the drivers knew, it was only time that the rest of the world knew.

They didn't announce it in any way. No, Daniel's Instagram usually had a picture of her in his photo dumps and this was no exception. Just, this time, her bump was visible in the picture.

If the world of F1 was losing its collective shit, neither of them noticed. The Ricciardo family was wrapped up in their own little bubble, just the way they liked it.

A week before the wedding, her dream dress wasn't fitting. Why the fuck wasn't it fitting? Well, she knew why. It was stupid to think anything would fit over her bump.

"I hate this baby," she said through tears as she rubbed her bump. No, she didn't hate baby Ricciardo, not in the slightest. Actually, she loved baby Ricciardo more than anything. But still, she couldn't help but wish she wasn't pregnant.

The dress she wore on her wedding day wasn't her dream dress. She couldn't wear those cute white heels she wanted to wear, couldn't even see her feet.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, just an hour away from being walked down the aisle, an hour away from marrying the love of her life, she was ready to cry. She held it back, though, couldn't afford to ruin her makeup. "What're we gonna do with you?" She whispered as she cradled her bump.

"Momma?"

She looked at Milo in the mirror before she turned towards him. "C'mere, baby," she said and held her hands out towards him. Fuck, how was he almost seven?

As her son wrapped his arms around her, she wanted time to stop. Just stop, let her live in this moment forever. He was growing up so damn fast, he was going to be a big brother soon. "You look beautiful, momma," he said.

This time, she couldn't help the tears. Stupid pregnancy hormones. "Thank you, Miley," she said through a shaky breath as she stood up and grabbed a tissue. Gently she dabbed at her eyes, trying to save her makeup.

She smoothed her dress over her bump and took Milo's hand. "Let's go become Ricciardos."

Daniel had never been this nervous before. Not in his first race back after McLaren had let him go. He was sweating in his suit as Max stood with him. All of their guests were seated, but the most important people were missing.

The door opened and Olivia and one of her friends, one that had been over a few times, walked in. They tossed the petals out of the little white basket as she walked in behind her.

Daniel knew her relationship with her family was... strenuous, at best. That was why they weren't at the wedding. With her father not there to walk her down the aisle, Milo held her hand.

Daniel's breath caught in his throat. He knew she wasn't in her dream dress, not the dress that matched Olivia's, but she still looked amazing. Holy fuck, it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. But that wasn't what actually did it.

Milo was the one walking her down the aisle. Milo in his little suit that near matched Daniels. He stood tall and proud, head held high as he walked his mother towards his step father. 

The kids sat together through the ceremony. Milo couldn’t stop himself from fiddling with the little pieces of petals as his mother got married. They were incredibly well behaved throughout, with Olivia’s grandparents, and Milo’s grandparents now, too, keeping them company. 

This close, Daniel could see the faults in her makeup. He didn’t care about the faults, she looked gorgeous with or without it. But still, Daniel could see the smudges under her eyes as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 

Mrs Ricciardo. She was Mrs Ricciardo now. 

Daniel didn’t say anything about the evidence of her tears as he kissed her. And, once he had his mouth on her, he never wanted to stop kissing her. He couldn’t dip her, like he wanted to, but his hand cradled her bump, cradled baby Ricciardo. His baby. She was his wife and she was carrying his baby. 

This was the best day of his life. 

Their family and friends were cheering as he walked her out of the church and into the car. Even then, even in the car, he couldn’t keep his lips on her. But he had to make sure she was okay, that took precedent. Even knowing that, Daniel couldn’t pull his lips away from her own. So the words were mumbled against her lips. “Were you crying?”

He tried to sound concerned, by her lips against his had his voice coming out as more of a desperate whine. 

But, as soon as he said it, she pulled away. “I’m fine, Danny,” she said and went to rub at her eyes, rub away the evidence of her tears.

Daniel caught her wrists. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and kissed her again. “My wife looks beautiful.”

The way she looked up at him, fuck, he could have kept her in that car forever. “Say it again.”

“My wife.”

When they arrived at the reception venue, their friends and family were there, waiting. As soon as they climbed out of the car, Milo and Olivia were pulling away from their grandparents, racing towards them. Daniel couldn’t help but pick Olivia up and place her on his hip as Milo held his mothers leg.

“Are we a family now?” Olivia asked, her voice coming out almost like a demand. 

But nobody could blame her. She’d been waiting for this moment for a year and a half. 

Daniel rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “We always were a family, Badger.”

There was no part of her wedding that the new Mrs Ricciardo didn’t enjoy. She wasn’t in her dream dress, but, now she had that ring on her finger, now she was married to the love of her life, she didn’t much care. 

She danced, but she didn’t dance the night away, like she had dreamed. She couldn’t help but be emotional as she sat with Daniel’s parents, her mother and father in law, watching the guests at her wedding. They were dancing more than she was, at her own wedding. 

Holding her bump, speaking softly to baby Ricciardo, she watched as her husband and her children danced. Daniel’s grin was so wide as the three of them were the centre of attention on the dance floor. That was the man she loved. That was the man she married. 

“Your daddy, your siblings and I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered to baby Ricciardo as her mother and father in law watched on, hearts melting. “You’ve got the best daddy going.”

And, as Daniel put Olivia down after spinning her around, he looked over to his wife. She smiled at him, a smile he’d never forget. As Olivia went to dance with Lando and Max took Milo to get something to drink, Daniel walked over to her. 

“Hi, baby,” he said as his hand met her bump. And then he looked up at his wife, meeting her eyes. “Hi, Mrs Ricciardo.”

“Hi, Mr Ricciardo.”

He kissed her, and she never wanted to let him go.

If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee

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[beelmons]

...uh oh. i may need to politely request this fic:

https://www.tumblr.com/beelmons/727110653210394624/i-feel-this-i-feel-like-spencer-would-only-use

spencer always calls reid by her name and reader is worried that means he doesnt like her as much as she likes him. and poor spencer is just oblivious as to was this matters 😭

It's fine, it's fine.

That's what you kept telling yourself. It's fine that Hotch calls his wife "honey". It's fine that Jennifer gets to be "sweetheart". It's fine that Penelope becomes "baby girl" despite not having any sort of relationship to Morgan whatsoever.

You don't need a pet name from your boyfriend, of course not. No "baby", that's weird, or "angel", that's cringe.

As you were sitting on the couch, sulking about the fact that it clearly annoyed you that Spencer would call you by your name instead of a cutesy petname made up by the two of you, you heard him call from the kitchen.

Once more, using your goddamn name.

"Okay, enough!" you finally blurted out, much to his utter surprise.

"Wha-" he tried to question in an attempt to get to the bottom of your sudden outburst.

"Don't call me by my name anymore, Spencer!" as you were yelling, you had to stand up and walk to the kitchen, where the poor man was holding a milk carton and looking astounded.

It had been a rather domestic day. Cleaning in your underwear, chilling by the couch. He had gotten up from your spot to grab some milk and cookies as an afternoon snack, and had called up on you when he couldn't find said cookies.

Now he was standing in the middle of his kitchen area, trousers and simple startrek t-shirt on, milk in hand, and a yelling girlfriend on his face.

"What's wrong with your name?" he asked with genuine curiosity

"Nothing is wrong with it, but that's not something to call your girlfriend of two years!" you yelled, your tone clearly getting higher.

"Is it not?" he asked once more. Despite his obliviousness seeming feigned to you, it was real to his core.

"I- You're-" you tried to fight back the need to strangle him, figure of speech, of course. Instead, you grunted and pushed on your temples.

However dreamy and kind, your boyfriend was, nonetheless, a man.

Exhasperation took over you over the lack of understanding on the severity of the situation and you knew better than to let yourself talk to him in that state. A resumé of fights and disputes being created by that same reason throughout the time you'd been together. You stomped your way back to the couch, where you simply decided to sit angrily with your arms over your chest.

The silence dragged out for quite a bit while the wheels in his head turned for a way out of this situation. Man, catching a killer was easier than walking through the eggshells you sometimes put out.

"Cinnamon." he simply said. You didn't answer, thinking that he was reciting to himself what he needed now. "That's what your name tastes like on my tongue." he added.

Finally, he earned a look back from you.

Spencer opened the fridge and put back the milk, an object that had lost several degrees of importance in the past few minutes, and walked over to you, taking a seat beside you on the couch and holding one of your hands into his. His touch was gentle, featherlight and quite fearful.

"I think it's due to the fact that I was tasting Penelope's coffee order when you were introduced to me." he continued "I'm sorry if I've come off as insensitive for not calling you a pet name but I had never felt the need for it. I love your name, I think it's a wonderful sound to emit."

It was now time for dialogue, no matter how uncomfortable it made you.

"Well, to me, it feels like you're calling out a friend. Someone who isn't special or remarkable in your life." you explained, your initial defense lowered, thus permiting you to express your insecurities fully.

You saw him make that stupid, adorable confusion face that he usually made. When he was trying hard to find the words to express a feeling he had never experienced before.

"I'm sorry." he simply put out for a second, hence igniting back a bit of your anger "But you see, it's not only the way it feels on my tongue. My heart, it races to levels I don't think are healthy whenever I hear it. My skin, it crawls with anticipation when it appears on my phone screen." he added "Your name is unique no matter how many people on this earth share it with you, and I could probably tell you how many exactly are there but I doubt you want to hear it right now." he had to clear his throat for a second "To me your name holds no other meaning but the one of pure love and happiness, so, to you it might appear I'm calling on to someone random but to me..." Spencer had to pause to put his head in order "...feels like I'm calling home."

You didn't realize your grip had tightened on his hand. Your eyes locked as he spoke had grown a couple of tears along the way. You were pulled, tentatively, into your boyfriend's arms, and there you remained for more minutes than you could have counted.

It's fine. Just your name is fine, as long as it's from his lips.

[pressureplus]

Can I request a sebastian x scene fem!reader? At first I was going to choose gyaru but someone already made it. Reader often visits Sebastian's shop to talk and Sebastian often asks about her scene style.

I got you brother, as a lover of the Scene/Gyaru styles myself, I'm gonna have some fun!

Your Name

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x Scene!Fem!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Romance, Sebastian is bad at feelings

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

“Its you again.” His voice is smooth and calm, hands clasped together the way they always are everytime you wander into his shop. You manage to wiggle your hips right on through and finally crawl into his shop. God these vents are an uncomfortable squeeze sometimes. You stand up, running your hands through your hair in a weak attempt to fix the mess as you walk over to Sebastian.

“Yeah, hey. My bad I know I promised Id be here sooner but my hair has been a-”

“Let me.” He hums and swats your hands away gently, you two more than friendly enough for him to touch you. Even though he wasn't particularly an overly touchy man he still allowed himself to reach out for you every now and then. Plus he didn't just shoot or throw you whenever you reached out to touch him either. What was special about you? You had no idea. A part of you assumed it had something to do with his curiosity. It seems he had never really seen somebody with your style before. The fluffier and ‘weird’ hair, the multicolored charms and jewelry you had on. He’d found you strange to begin with but eventually grew very very curious. All his questions leading him to requesting you come back so you could answer more at a later date. Now you come in whenever you can, now that you think about it, maybe its the familiarity he likes?

“You really should be more careful- I don't exactly have hair ties and hairspray laying around. Expendable or not, don't be clumsy and stupid.” He notes as his hands comb through your hair. His touch is gentle as he tries not to accidentally claw your scalp while fixing it for you. You're certain the position he’s bent himself into to do this for you can't be comfortable. Still you allow it. For a while you both remain silent, the closeness leaving you a little pink, not that he seems to notice.

“Ah, Im trying my best, but I swear Pandemonium has it out for me.”

“That bastard again?” You can almost watch his eye twitch as he huffs. His hands finally moving away from your head to reach into his bags. He sort of messes around with the items in there before managing to pull out a hair tie. Odd how despite claiming he doesn’t have one, he has one available for you? You're half expecting him to hand it to you, but no. He spins you around himself to tie it up for you.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting your hair out of your face. You want to survive, don't you?”

“Of course I do, but I mean…why are you putting it up for me? I have hands you know.”

“Your bracelets get caught sometimes. Don't think I haven't noticed that.” You pause.

“Youve been paying attention to me?”

“Whenever you're in my shop? Yes. I've got to watch everyone's hands, Y/N.” You sit in a shaken silence. He seems quick to join you and for a moment his hands still. He’s gone and called you by your name. You're fairly certain, based on the sudden stillness, that he didn't want you to know he knew it. At the very least he hadn't meant to call you that. You'd gotten aggressively called Expendable since the moment you signed up for this job. Honestly, your own name sounded foreign on his tongue. He clears his throat and finishes up with tying your hair back.

“Its done, you can leave now.”

“No wait- Dont you have questions for me today?”

“Nope.” He turns his head away, face red. His arms quickly crossing over his chest. A silently defensive position you've grown accustomed to whenever you push one too many buttons.

“Oh come on, don't be shy just because you called me by my name. I'm not gonna tease you for it!”

“Dont care. Get out.”

“Sebastian, come on! You were so happy to learn about my belt collection back at home just yesterday!”

“And I'm not today. You may leave, escort yourself out, remove yourself from the premises, or whatever terms you want to use.”

“You know considering I never told you my name in the first place, and you never cared enough to ask, you must've been looking for it.”

“No-”

“Have you been trying to find out my name, Sebastian? Clearly you managed it. Is it safe to assume you like me?” You attempt to tease him and he’s quick to shift himself down to your height again. A hand grabbing you by the front of your gear and tugging you up towards his face. A low rumbling growl emanating from him, teeth bared.

“I didn't go looking for it, and I certainly don't like you. Remember who you're…talking…” He trails off. His eyes locked on yours. He can't help the almost doe eyed expression he makes, his teeth no longer fully exposed and his mouth slightly ajar. As though he’d entirely lost his train of thought. From this close you could see every little fleck of blue in his eyes individually. Even glowing you could see the slightest of color changes.

“You uh…you alright?” You mutter as he stares. He’s slow when he releases you, his face pulling away a bit. A silence settles between you two for a moment before he speaks up again.

“Your eyeliner.”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you uh, always do it like that?”

[poeticpascal]

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would���ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.” 

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-” 

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

[cvnntagious]

Have My Baby | C. Sturniolo

"Where'd you come from, with all these statements? / Only thing I wanna know is, can you have my baby." -Chief Keef

pairing : Toxic!Chris x Fem!Reader

Summary : When a sweet date night with your boyfriend turns into arguing in the restaurant, Chris wants to let you know he still loves you, even though he doesn't act like it most of the time.

Warnings : use of y/n, mentions of cheating, arguing, swearing, use of bitch in a derogatory way, lowkey angst??, manipulation, smut, p in v, riding, talk of breeding, pet names (baby, princess, ma), 18+

authors note : please don't point out how i keep posting everything BUT the requests i've gotten… i also made a bot for this so enjoy

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

The fancy restaurant you sat in buzzed with chatter, lit with only the dim, warm lighting of the expensive glass-beaded chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Chris set his menu down with a small, content sigh, smiling at you as he looked into your eyes. "Know that I want," He said simply, placing his hands in front of him on top of the menu, "You?"

You looked up from the menu, matching your boyfriends smile. "What're you getting?" You asked him before setting your menu down in front of you as well, still opened, "I'm a little stuck. Maybe we can share?"

The gesture could've been seen as some type of romantic 'Lady and the Tramp' scene, if it weren't for the underlying tension. You two had never been good together. The way you practically had to beg Chris for two days straight to take you out tonight said it all, and yet, you both sat disingenuously and played house day by day. Even so, all this fancy bullshit had only been enough to fool your boyfriends fans, but everyone else around you guys saw. They saw the way Chris' shitty antics affected you - How they'd caused you to vie for his attention in the same shitty ways he did yours.

There was a flicker of something you couldn't quite make out in Chris' eyes, but he maintained that same smile. "Pasta, like always. You don't like Alfredo," He answered, his tone sweet, making it so that no one around would notice the complaisant undertone like you could.

Of course he'd be like this, how stupid of you to assume he'd enjoy himself tonight. His attitude made you remember how silent he was while you got ready for your date after he finally agreed, only watching you get all dolled up while he wore his usual beanie and t-shirt. Your shoulders dropped when you caught the insincerity, eyes flicking to look at the menu once more as your smile faded. You took a minute to examine while Chris watched from across the table, opening your mouth to say something when you were ready, only to be cut off by the dinging notification on your phone.

Instantly, your head snapped to your phone not far from the menu, reaching to grab it. "Forgot to turn off my ringer." You gave him an uneasy chuckle, flipping the switch on the side of your phone.

"Who's texting you?" Chris asked, smile now gone and hands to the side of him when you looked up at him.

You sucked in a sharp breath before clicking the power button to check the contact. "My mom," You answered, hearing your phone buzz a few more times on the table.

"Seems important, you should text her back."

Hesitantly, to his wishes, you picked your phone off the table and unlocked it with your face. You clicked on messages to type a reply, feeling your phone being snatched from your hands before you could even read the texts for yourself. "Chris-"

He hummed as he read the messages, his face sour with your phone held up to it. "Baby pictures," He replied, sounding disappointed.

A huff left your mouth when you saw him going to type for you, making you reach over the table and snatch your phone from him. "The fuck?" Chris raised his voice a bit, causing people at surrounding tables to glance over.

"I'm not a cheater like you, asshole. Don't sound so down about it." You ignored the agitated charge in his tone as you tweaked your neck at him, speaking in a low tone and giving him an almost disgusted look.

Chris rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Oh please, don't be a bitch about stupid shit. I've never cheated and you know it." His tone was sassy, tongue prodding at his cheek.

The scoff that came from you was so bitter, it almost had Chris leaning over to spit the taste of it out of his mouth. "Only 'cause I caught you before you could actually meet up to fuck her." The blunt words caused a pain in his chest, though he'd never admit it. He kept his composure in front of you, not even flinching at the daggers your eyes threw at him.

He shook his head dismissively, looking up at the light fixtures above you two. "I can't stand you sometimes."

That instant click of your tongue he knew so well made Chris' eyes snap back to your face, knowing he'd really ticked you now. "Ya know what? I shouldn't have even forced you to take me out on a date for once," You stood from your seat, grabbing your belongings as calm as you could in hopes to not alert other people simply enjoying their meals, "I knew it was too much for you to handle. Especially in these times where you 'can't stand' me."

Chris watched with parted lips as you walked away from the table, stiletto heels clacking against the marble floors. You thanked the hostess, letting her know you wouldn't be dining here tonight in a sweet tone before turning to the door. It took a moment, but eventually Chris snapped back into reality, rushing out of the doors to catch up to you.

You already had your hand on the door handle of your car when he finally caught sight of you again, making him sigh in relief that you hadn't already taken off. Your eyes met his when he made it to the tail of your car, sighing before opening the front door. "Get in, you scrub," You demanded in fed up exasperation as you slid into the drivers seat.

━━★

The ride home had been silent, and it was no different for the walk into your house. You hung your purse up on the hooks nailed by the door, Chris walking past you and stopping at the bottom step with his hands in his pockets. Why didn't you just take him home and go back to your place? You hadn't a clue. You really had no intentions of talking things out— at least not tonight.

There were many things you didn't have a clue about. Like why you hadn't left him back when you guys were seventeen, when he'd hid you and played with your feelings all the way up until he realized he could brag about you when he started doing YouTube. You could've really put your foot down when you guys were eighteen and he'd told you he could never love you. You should've told him to fuck off back when you were nineteen and caught him practically sexting multiple other girls for the first time. But now he's twenty, all rich and famous, dragging you out to LA with him and his brothers, and he doesn't even feel the need to show any sort of appreciation for everything you do for him.

"You look gorgeous," He mumbled as you walked past him, making your way up his stairs with tall heels on, to which he wrapped an arm around your waist from behind to guide you.

The stinging from you swatting him away from you was nothing compared to the stinging way you'd walked out of the date you so desperately pleaded with him for because he couldn't manage one peaceful night with his girlfriend. "I don't need your help." You placed your hand on the wall as you picked up your pace to walk a few steps ahead of him.

Chris sighed, slowly but surely trailing behind you. By the time you'd made it to the stairwell leading down to his room, he'd just made it to the top of the stairs at the entrance, searching your irritated face as you rounded the corner. His pace picked up significantly when he saw you take the first step down without even thinking to take your shoes off, afraid you'd fall or something. He grabbed you again, this time hooking your arm on his. "Please," He said gently, not wanting you to push him away this time.

Again, you huffed, reluctantly allowing him to guide you down the stairs like he was some gentleman, though you knew he wasn't. "I'm so tired of you." You started, unable to help yourself. You were just so frustrated with him all the time.

His eyes on the ground, Chris licked his lips at your words, genuinely ashamed of himself for tonight. "I know, baby," He assured you, surprising you when his words came out remorseful, "I know."

"Don't 'baby' me, you ruin everything," You continued on, ranting out of a mix of sadness and anger. "What am I? Just some girl you flaunt to a camera as if you're some awesome, amazing boyfriend?"

He looked up at you, eyes drooping like a child being scolded as he opened his bedroom door for you. "I love you." He simply replied as he let go of you, voice barely above a whisper.

You walked into his room freely, finally taking your shoes off. "Every time you start some stupid 'I love you' shit, I physically cringe," You began an almost entirely new rant, Chris grabbing your heels from your hands to set them neatly aside as he listened intently, "Because, fuck, I love you, but I'll never ever believe you feel the same after what you said to me years ago."

"So was I. And now what? You're gonna say you didn't mean it?" You cut him off, "Even freshly eighteen, I'd never say some stupid shit like that to put you down, whether I meant it or not."

Chris hummed as he turned back to you, "I was young-"

"So was I. And now what? You're gonna say you didn't mean it?" You cut him off, "Even freshly eighteen, I'd never say some stupid shit like that to put you down, whether I meant it or not."

"You don't understand," He took a few steps closer, "Y/n, I'd do anything for you."

You crossed your arms as you looked at him, not buying it. "Oh, I'm sure you would, Christopher."

The sigh he let out at your sarcasm actually caused you to snap out of your angry haze for a moment, feeling a bit sorry for him for some reason. Of course, he had this chewing out coming for quite some time now, but you'd never expected yourself to be so blunt about everything out of nowhere. "you're just so much better than me," He said in a defeated tone, features soft as he looked you up and down.

At any other given moment, he would've said that in such a condescending tone, but it was almost as if he didn't have it in him to pick and egg on the argument like normal. "I want nothing than to spend the rest of my life with you," He breathed, stepping closer to wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Chris, what're you-"

He cut you off with a kiss, much more gentle than any kiss you'd ever gotten from him before. His fingers made his way up to underneath your chin, lifting it to move the kiss from your lips to underneath your jaw. "We could do so much together," He picked up his head, hands sliding under your cute, flowey shirt, "We should've done so much more together by now."

You looked at him with a confused expression, like you were unsure of if he was being serious or not. "I wanna start a family with you," He punctuated his words with kisses down your neck, "And get married. All that sappy shit."

"You're such a fake," You replied as he gently pushed you down on his bed. This, like other times, had to be some sort of manipulation to keep you from leaving, and deep down you knew it. Yet, for some reason, you always ended up letting him have his way with you. Of course, the sex was good, but was it good enough to endure the torture of Chris Sturniolo himself?

Even so, when your boyfriend crawled on his bed to attach his lips to yours from above you, you opened your legs for him to slip himself between. Chris groaned when you reached your hand around his neck to play with the tufts of hair just at the base of his skull, ultimately pulling his kiss in deeper. "A fake?" He feigned offense, "You have no idea how i really see you."

"A little hard when you claim to hate me." You forced out a chuckle, shifting uncomfortablely benath your boyfriend.

Chris sucked in through his nose. "Don't be like that," He breathed before allowing his head to dip just under your chin, peppering kisses along your exposed collarbone.

You rolled your eyes, chin subconsciously lifting to give him better access. His motions only served to dampen your panties. Your hand rose to fall into his soft curls, massaging tenderly at his scalp. Chris groaned at the contact, lips exploring your body in slothish motions. He was in no rush.

Finally, he lifted his head again, kissing you so quick and gently that it'd almost felt like he caressed your lips with his. He wasted no time in sitting up against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap in that same motion. "Healthy or not, I could do this every day," He said softly, reaching up to brush his thumb over your cheek, "And this-" He didn't finish his sentence, hands roaming down the fabric of your dress in admiration.

He was so right— The problem is that this wasn't healthy. But fuck did you guys know how to forgive each other, with as much as you knew how to get on each others nerves. You exhaled softly at his words, somehow feeling content by them. Your arms wrapped around his neck, resting on his shoulders, "Sad to say I could too."

"I know."

With that, he grabbed your ass and lifted it from his lap, then letting go to unbuckle his jeans. He pulled them and his boxers down simultaneously, freeing the erection you hadn't even yet noticed. He wasn't interested in fully undressing himself, and he wasn't interested in undressing you at all. With how sexy you looked all dressed up for your guys' date? There was no way in hell. He reached to bunch your dress up at your waist, fingers dipping to press against the wet spot on the fabric of your panties. "Perfect, you can't resist me," He hummed out, lifting you over his aching cock.

"I can," You tried to fight back, only for your argument to be diminished by the way he ran his tip through your folds, eliciting a whimper from you.

You practically broke down on top of him, your legs on either side of his as you held onto his shoulders for support. He allowed the head of his cock to tease your aching clit and dripping entrance to no end, making you unable to hold back the pants the soft caressing on it forced out of you with your face now buried in his neck. "Chris," You whined, causing him to chuckle.

His hand let go of the base of his dick, gripping your hips to plop you down onto him with a hiss. You yelped at the way he'd filled you up so quickly, trembling a bit in his grasp. "Stay still, okay ma? G'na fuck a baby into you," He demanded, voice gruff with lust, "You'll know I'm fa'real then."

At that, he began thrusting into you, agonizingly slow as he sucked in through his perfectly straight teeth. You looked down between your bodies, lips parting to let out more sporadic pants of pleasure. Impatience took over him, beginning to thrust into you at a faster and rougher pace. By then, full moans escaped your lips, unable to contain them as he fucked you so good.

He grunted as your jaw went slack, his pace almost animalistic. He was never one for wasting time. He needed to cum. What other way would you carry his child if not for him shooting his warm seed into you? Surely your favorite panties would be soiled by the end of this, and you'd be lucky to keep your dress nice.

w/c : 2.7k taglist : @m4ttsmunch @mattsnumberonehoe @k4yd1 @sturnobsessedwh0re (lmk If you wanna be added!)

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt 4

Since I’ve gotten home, I’ve been unable to relax. Bakugou’s text messages have forced me in a trace since I sat down to read them on the train. I’ve read and reread each one, analyzing every word and punctuation detail.

Katsuki’s drunk voicemails are even harder to process; his slurred speech is filled with hiccups and desperate pleas for me to come back. These are messages he would never send when sober, making them all the more gut-wrenching.

I fall onto the hotel’s bed and curl up next to the Uravity plushie I keep there for comfort. Ochaco was never a fan of my relationship with Bakugou, but she was always the best at giving advice. If she were here now, she’d probably offer to float him up into space until he exploded.

I take a deep breath and hit play on the first voicemail he left. Katsuki's voice floods the room, and even in his vulnerable moments, there's a magnetism to him that I can't resist. Each drunken word reveals a side of him that he keeps tightly locked away when he's sober. It's these rare, unguarded moments that leave me crying, aching to heal his broken heart.

His voice cracks, and I can hear the pain and confusion in every syllable. I clutch the Uravity plushie tighter, tears welling up as I listen. The raw emotion, the unfiltered regret, makes the distance between us feel insurmountable.

Saturday, June 1st, 10:52pm

"Hey... it's me. Damn it, I know you hate me now, but I can’t do this without you. I know I don’t deserve you; you’re so smart and the only person who challenges me. I've been thinking 'bout you all night. I miss you so much it hurts. I miss your touch, the way you laugh... everything 'bout you. It's killin' me not havin' you here."

His voice slurs, thick with alcohol, and I can hear a few thumps and groans as he fumbles with the phone.

"I... I screwed up, I know that. But... please, just gimme another chance. I need you. I don't know what to do without you. Our bed feels empty. Please, just... come back to me. I... I love you."

A few similar voicemails are left on my phone for that night, each one repeating his drunken rambles, filled with regret and longing. Each message blurs into the next, a cascade of sorrow and hopelessness.

Monday, June 3rd, 2:39am

"Hey... it's me. Look, I know you’re probably just busy, right? You wouldn’t just leave like that. This is just a misunderstanding or something. Call me back when you get this, okay? We need to talk. I... I need to hear from you. I can’t believe you’re really gone. Just... just call me.”

There's a long pause, filled with the sound of his shaky breathing, before the voicemail clicks off.

The silence that follows feels like a weight pressing down on my chest. I close my eyes, trying to steady my own breath, then tap on the next voicemail he left, only an hour later that evening.

Monday, June 3rd, 4:32am

"Hey, it's me again. Why aren't you answering? I... I keep checking my phone, waiting for your name to pop up. This can't be real. You can't just be gone. Please, I need to hear your voice. We can work this out, can't we? I know I screw up, but we always find a way, right?"

The sound of him stumbling, maybe knocking something over, echoes through the phone. His frustration is clear, and it cuts deep.

"I miss you so much. This stupid house doesn’t even smell like you anymore. You always knew how to make everything better. Please, just call me. We need to talk. I can't do this without you. I love you."

Wednesday, June 5th, 3:47am

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you? You think you can just walk away from everything we had? I’m pissed! I miss you, damn it! I can’t stand this! How could you just leave me like that? You think this is easy for me? It’s not! Get your ass back here and fix this!"

He takes a harsh, shaky breath, the anger clear in his voice. Kats moves the phone away from his face, clearly yelling at some random person before shoving the phone next to his ear again.

"You think you can just walk away like it’s nothing? Well, it’s not nothing to me! I can’t do this without you. Every day feels like hell. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Everywhere I go, I see you, I hear you. It’s like a ghost haunting me, reminding me of everything we had and everything I lost. Do you even care what this is doing to me?"

His voice cracks, the raw emotion breaking through his anger.

"You were my everything. We had plans, dreams... You can’t just throw all that away. I know I screwed up, but I can fix this. Please, I need you. I need you to come back and tell me it’s going to be okay. I can’t do this alone. So get your ass back here, now! Before it's too late... before we lose everything we’ve built together."

He pauses, and the silence is filled with his labored breathing, each inhale shaky and uneven.

"Please," he whispers, the anger gone, replaced by a mixture of loss and desperation. "Please, just come back."

The voicemail ends abruptly with a sharp click. I press the next one. As soon as I hear his voice, I sit up straight, knocking a pillow off my bed in the rush. This one was different. It’s the day before Eijiro called me, begging me to have lunch with him and refusing to take no for an answer.

Monday, June 8th, 10pm

"Hey... it’s me. I... I don’t even know why I’m calling. You’re not gonna pick up, are you? I just... I miss you. I miss everything about you. It’s so damn hard without you here. I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything feels empty."

Katsuki pauses for a moment, and a muffled cry is given before he brings the phone back up to his face, his breathing hard.

"I... I just wanted to say that I get it. I understand why you left. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, but... I get it. No one has ever put up with me for as long as you have. I’ve never had someone defend me like you did. Take care of yourself, alright? I love you, always."

Fear spreads across my body, engulfing me into a paralyzing state. My mind races, trying to make sense of it all. Katsuki Bakugou has never, and I mean never, accepted defeat. Bakugou is a fighter; he’s an asshole. Katsuki Bakugou once made me play 12 rounds of Mario Cart because I kept beating him. So why did his voice sound so defeated? What did Eijiro see that I haven’t been able to?

I stand up, pacing back and forth, my thoughts spiraling. Should I call him? Would he even want to speak with me? Isn’t this what I wanted? I wished for his pain, but seeing it unfold feels like a gunshot rather than enjoyment.

My heart pounds as I replay his last voicemail, each word contrasting the Katsuki I thought I knew. His usual fiery spirit, the bravado, the unyielding strength—it was all stripped away, leaving behind a raw, aching vulnerability that I didn’t know he possessed. The thought of him being so broken sends a dagger through my heart.

I stop pacing and sit on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I wanted him to understand my pain, to feel a fraction of what I felt when he pushed me away, but this... this is too much. The idea of him being in such a dark place, feeling so lost and defeated, twists my stomach in knots.

What if he doesn’t answer? What if he does and I don’t know what to say? I reach for my phone, my fingers hovering over his contact. The weight of the decision feels crushing. I wanted him to hurt, but not like this. Not to the point where I’m afraid for him.

Taking a deep breath, I press the call button, my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for the call to connect. The ringing seems to go on forever, each second dragging out the torment.

"Hello?" A woman's voice, light and giggling, cuts through the receiver. In the background, there's a commotion—a struggle, I can only assume is my asshole ex-boyfriend trying to wrestle his phone back from her.

"Is Bakugou there?" I question, trying to keep my voice steady despite the irritation bubbling up inside me. I can hear a party going on in the background.

"He's a bit busy right now," she replies, a teasing hint to her tone. "I'll have him call you back once he's free."

Before I can say anything more, there's a final click and the call abruptly ends.

[11rosebunny]

┆彡 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

Chapter two

HAJIME UMEMIYA X READER

Upon landing his eyes on yours, it took him a few seconds to breathe in again until the guy he came with started marching his way to where you stood with the first-year boys.

"You little SHITS!"

Your eyes widened as you followed the image of a hotheaded male with sharp features and short spiky hair that seemed to be withering away from a shade of blonde.

His shark-like teeth grew wide when a scowl appeared on his face and grabbed Sakura's head with steam coming from his ears. You backed away in shock at the scene before you.

"What the hell I tell you about followin' my orders?!" Spit flew out from his mouth hitting the poor boy's face. Nirei's face bellowed into fear while Sugishita and Suo looked away feeling sweat drop from their foreheads.

"Gross! You're spitting on me again!" The black and white-haired boy shouted back.

You stood there watching the two argue back and forth since nobody else dared to intervene, otherwise if they did, the third-year male would've torn their heads' off.

Then soon after, footsteps approached the table.

"Calm down Hiragi." An easygoing voice spoke over the fight in front of you.

The grey-haired man walked up to where his friend was practically mauling Sakura's face. Then, he placed his hand on the punk's shoulder making him snap at him.

"What?!"

A smile went on his face, "We can deal with them later. You do realize we have a guest with us?"

Hiragi's grip on Sakura loosened as he turned to look at the newcomer, his expression softening slightly. His eyes flickered to you, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.

The grey-haired man nodded towards you with a friendly smile, his demeanor calming the tense atmosphere. "Let's not ruin our guest's impression of us, Hiragi. We can handle this later."

The four other boys twisted their head's at the sudden tone their older classmate had put on.

"Haah—? What's up with you now?" Sakura nudged at the boy. It was odd seeing how his president acted towards the stranger he didn't know of while the only background noises was the spiky-haired boy yelling at Sugishita. You stood their awkwardly as the grey-haired man spoke to you.

"May I ask who you are? I don't mean to come off as rude. It's just that I haven't seen you around here before." He smiled sweetly catching you off guard at how friendly he was.

The both of you stared at each other taking in your features. He never recalls meeting anyone like you before—never bumped into you on the Main Street, or during weekend days. Generally, the grey-haired boy knew nearly everyone in the town he's grown up in even since he was a middle schooler. So when he comes across somebody he's never bumped into, he's stumped and almost intrigued on who you were.

"[Last name] [First Name]."

You answered after a couple of seconds from silence. You started blinking away, not understanding why he had gotten quiet all of a sudden. Had you said something off?

But then, the weirdest thing happened. He laughed.

"Wh—"

"That's amazing! I've never met you before can you believe it?!" His hand reached to the top of your head. Was he, patting it?

From the sidelines, Nirei sweat dropped before mumbling to himself, "Well obviously. Isn't this their first interaction?" He whispered to Suo. The other boy nodded finding the older man's response a bit stupid.

Instantly, your hands flayed around in the air, feeling nervous that a random man you've never met began to pat your head continuously. "Uhhh."

Shortly after, he let out a sigh and removed his hand. Your face was now startled as you looked back at him with an unsure smile. He was acting way too easygoing than anyone you've ever encountered before (although not many).

"Anyways, what brings you here? I can see that the younger ones are already aware of you." He asked as the spiky-haired male in the background finally stopped arguing with Sugishita.

"I found Kyotaro unconscious in an alleyway?" You answered a little quiet. All 6 of them stopped speaking.

"Ah."

"Haah?"

"Oh?"

"WHAT?!"

The reactions of each of them progressively got worse. Then once again, the man began to go right back to arguing with Sugishita who this time began to scowl and look away in embarrassment. Then, the man before you began to laugh again.

Your head swung to look at him but in a flash he put his hands on your shoulders and began to guide you away from the scene.

"Ahah, I think we should go now yes?"

It wasn't an awkward walk back down than you thought it might have been. You were able to read the room and silently agreed it was also better if you'd leave in that moment. You continued walking behind him as you lead you to the exit of the school, he was humming an unknown song while he was at it.

"You don't speak much [Name]." He said out loud randomly as you two were now on the bottom floor.

"I don't?"

He chuckled, "You sure do, nothing bad about that though." He shoved his hands in his pockets. Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell by the way he spoke it sounded like he was grinning. Then, he turned his head to look at you.

"But..."

"You haven't even asked for my name." He concluded with a curious smile.

By now, you two were finally at the doors to the outside, but before you could step out, you jumped when you realized what he said was true.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! What's your name?" You panicked. He snickered finding the way your face went in shock to be amusing.

He opened to door for you to walk out first then shortly walked closer to you causing the door to close.

"Hajime Umemiya."

Chapter three

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part three

part four: say the one thing i've been wanting

Steve had been dreading actually talking about this with Robin. He hadn't wanted to put her in a position to feel like she had to come out or stop using him as a plus one to industry parties to fuel rumors. Even as he and Eddie pretty publicly dated Robin's agent and most tabloids still thought Robin and Steve were a couple some even going as far as insinuating Eddie was Steve's side piece or their third.

"Steve, you're kind of scaring me, what's going on?"

"Birdie, I'm only telling you this because I can't not anymore but I want you to know nothing is your fault and I literally don't need you to do anything. I just need to be able to talk to my best friend and in order to do that I kind of have to get through this uncomfortable part," Steve answered.

"Anything, Steve. Whatever you need," Robin said.

"Okay, so Eddie and I kind of broke up because Eddie assumed I was cheating on him with Nance when she came to visit earlier this year. He got really upset and kind of blocked me from any way of contacting him so there was no way to clear anything up after he left but he definitely assumed I was cheating on him and he wrote that fucking song and I just need to talk to you without leaving out this really huge massive reason why Eddie left and why I still feel like total shit," Steve rushed to cover the main points.

"Steve, hun," Nance comforted. She probably guessed something else was going on but had been understanding enough not to press Steve for more.

"Steve, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Robin started catastrophizing.

"Can you please stop saying my name. It's kind of freaking me out," Steve joked, "Robs, it's totally not your fault at all. It was a shitty situation I could have handled better and so could Eddie but there's really nothing to do about it know because I can't explain it to him and he clearly doesn't want me to so we are moving on, all right?" Steve attempted to keep the energy light.

"If that's what you want, sure babe," Robin said.

"I just want to stop going down Tik Tok rabbit holes of Eddie's stupid song without being able to complain to you about how fucking tired I am of not being able to do anything," Steve said, "and also I want so much ice cream and a really stupid TV marathon with my best girls and maybe roast Eddie's new song a little bit."

Nancy had already pulled up doordash and they were soon on their way to eating a smorgasbord of snacks and ice cream while watching reality TV and eventually dissolving into a karaoke session initially overdramatically singing along to Eddie's new single and ending with some old school Taylor (her version of course). Steve was feeling better than he had in a long time and started getting out of the fog he'd been in since Eddie had left.

Eventually, Steve started answering his agent's emails again and submitting tape for different roles. He'd gotten a part in a small indie film in Italy and Steve was pretty ready to take it. It was an interesting part, it was literally away from everyone he knew, the director was kind of weird and didn't let his cast use socials while filming and encouraged only phone calls and old school letters to really get into the period mindset. It was honestly kind of a perfect next project and it helped that the script was actually kind of great.

"As long as you aren't going because you're running away, Steve. You know I don't want you to leave and you shouldn't feel like you have to," Robin said as he was starting to pack his bags.

"I really like the project. It's a good script and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Kind of perfect honestly. The shoot is pretty short its only like four weeks so I won't be gone that long and you and Nancy can keep holing up in my apartment without me getting in the way!" Steve answered.

"You're never in the way, dingus," Robin nudged him and then brought him into a hug, "we'll just miss you kiddo."

"I'll miss you too, Bobbie. Now let me go so I can pack." Steve pulled away with a bigger smile than he'd had in weeks.

part five

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[powerpuffobsession]

As much as I love Adam for a few fun parts of his character and for what he could have been at the hands of a competent writer (as shown by the fanfics where he gets properly developed)...

I feel like he (and the way he's characterised) is what broke Hazbin hotel season 1 pacing, Lucifer's character and the show's overall atmosphere.

(Long and packed rant under the cut, because I've been having these thoughts since I saw season 1, and I want to share them. Viewer discretion is adviced)

Before Adam existed (pilot era) it was all simple and worked more properly: a story about the hotel and its inhabitants, and most importanty, redemption. It was a small snuggly location with a few characters in the center of a plot

Heaven was in the background and kept as a mystery. Moreover, from what we've seen in the pilot, Lucifer was obviously a background villain or at least an anti hero, one of the real obstacles for Charlie to overcome on the way to her goal (instead of a minor inconveniece resolved in a single broadway song)

But when Adam and his weird obsession with murder broke into that perfectly cut out premise, everything just shattered. Too many themes got weaved into the short story of the 8 episodes: Heaven vs Hell politics, overlords, war, Charlie's conflict with Adam, the seraphims...

All of that pushed the hotel and the redemption to the background instead of Heaven.... in a cartoon that's named after the hotel. Because 8 episodes is not enough to talk about politics, a war and a 6 month redemption course (the latter even happened behind the screen with only some verbal hints given about the amazing secretive progress the hotel guests made that we were not allowed to see!)

(Had this cartoon stayed indie, there would have been a possibility of making more episodes and tackling more themes properly. But big name broadway actors are more important than that, it appears)

Back to Adam.

He is not even a good villain. He really should have been more of a background antihero. Give the man some sedatives, for f's sake! Where did all that rabidity even come from, after centuries of living in Heaven? Honestly, he'd be expected to act calmer and wiser than how he actually did, especially with how old he is (as old as the earth itself). But instead it's like he got frozen in a state of a dumb jock bully from high school

Imagine if Adam allowed Charlie and her hotel guests to prove that redemption is possible, out of principle, or curiosity. Hell, maybe even allow him to threaten to kill them, but not straight away! Later, after they fail to prove him wrong! If that's what Adam's role had been, the hotel part would have gotten time to breathe and more spotlight

All Adam did in the series, was:

1. make a lot of excessive noise

2. do dumbass things (and it wasn't even explained WHY he's the way he is, not even a single flashback or his own musings and thoughts shown, which makes all of his actions fall flat in every sense)

3. break the remains of logic (Heaven looks plain dumb because of him, not able to tell sinning from non sinning and to judge human souls properly. It's not even corruption, since Adam is not that important or benefitial to Heaven, an actual archangel like Michael could have been leading exorcists in his place and do a better job.... it's just stupidity)

And then Adam just died, for nothing and with no consequences.

I mean, straight after Adam's death Lucifer is immediately trying to divert the viewer's attention: "who wants pancakes? :D". It's like the cartoon itself doesn't care that the first human, one of the most mysterious beings in vivzieverse and someone who badly needed a second chance and therapy, just died. By a very stupid joke too (Niffty didn't even have to stab him).

In short, Adam's plotline is a huge waste of screen time...

And while his final smile to Lute may give us some hints that there's something good inside Adam, but it's more akin to mockery. Since we were never shown that there's more to Adam besides "the main character's opponent=ultimate bad"

And of course Lucifer was retconned into a pathetic uwu boi, who's depression and "silliness" have overshadowed the fact that he practically doomed humanity to a life full of pain, suffering and surviving and took away Adam and Eve's home. We don't even get the slightest glimpse of what exactly Lucifer DREAMED of that was so important to force him to do the humans dirty. Meaning it was something abstract and not thought-through anyway.

(Free will my ass.. Adam and Lilith did as they pleased in Eden without the free will, Adam ordering his wives around, Lilith being able to defy him and Eve being able to disobey God. What good did "free will" from that fruit even do them? If anything, it only did harm to everyone)

And so now this daft egotist is being portrayed as this selfless harmless character only for the sake of contrasting the painfully obvious bad evil that Adam is.

That comes off as black and white writing, fit more for a childrens cartoon, despite the show critisizing Adam for thinking in black and white terms. Not a good look

[suw4]

Your Voice

Hinata Shoyo from Haikyuu!!

an/tw: TIMESKIP SPOILERS! im so thankful with all the love that the first part had gotten!!! so here's a treat for you. the writing might be a little messy but am hoping you like this

Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist

part1 | part2

The first-year couple sat at a nearby playground. Both of them are sitting in the seat of each swing. "I didn't know you felt that way, [N/n]," Shoyo felt guilty. He was so indulged in volleyball that he failed to focus on his boyfriend's feelings. Even though it wasn't his fault. "I didn't want you to worry. So I didn't say anything. That's why I've been avoiding watching you play,"

"Oh. I thought you were only busy with your studies..."

"I am. I mean, what else can I do when I can't play volleyball with you?" [Name] let out a dry chuckle. "Once I'm done with education, I'll find myself a good high-paying job so I can afford a hearing aid at least. I don't think I can afford a cochlear implant. That stuff is hella expensive. A little risky too since I will have to get surgery," he sighs, looking up to the star-littered sky.

Shoyo stood up and stood in front of the other. Taking his hands into his and squeezed them. "I'm sorry that you had to experience this, [N/n]. It must've been frustrating, huh?" he whispered, slowly letting go and embracing the [h/c] haired. "I'm sorry," he repeated. [Name] could feel the vibrations on Shoyo's chest. He closed his eyes and hugged the male back. "That stupid drunk driver...! If it wasn't for that idiot, you would've..." the tangerine mumbled. Aggrieved about what had happened to [Name]. Tears swell in his eyes. He felt that he could've done something. But what could he possibly have done to prevent that accident? He was only a junior high student.

[Name] parted from the hug. "Should we go home now? It's late. Your mom is most likely worried by now," he smiled softly as he signed. Reaching out to wipe Shoyo's tears. The shorter male then nodded as he let out a hum.

After a nice relaxing shower, with a small towel over his head, the [h/c] haired male entered his shared bedroom. Seeing his lover lying in bed already. Shoyo placed his phone beside his pillow and spread his arms out. Welcoming the other into bed. [Name] smiled at the sight and hurriedly climbed into his arms. Shoyo wrapped his arms around him and helped him dry his hair afterwards. [Name] laid his head against his chest. Even though he couldn't hear it, he felt it.

"I love feeling your heartbeat, Sho," he snuggled further. He could feel the vibrations sped up. He chuckled. "Are you embarrassed?" he teased, looking up at the other, whose face was flushed with light pink. "Uwah..! Why are you always so verbal when teasing me?" he whines as he covers his cheeks. [Name] laughed lightheartedly and took one of Shoyo's hands away from his face. Leaning forward to give a little peck on his lips. "Sleep," he simply gestured his right fist downwards by the right side of his head. After that, he repositioned himself. With his back against the mattress, he pulled his boyfriend onto him. Nuzzling the tangerine's fluffy locks. Shoyo exhaled in satisfaction and snuggled into the other's warmth. He bid [Name] goodnight, the other replying the same. Slowly, both of them will meet each other in dreamland.

Years passed. Shoyo had gone to Brazil to expand his skills in volleyball. During breaks, he was seen texting on his cell phone like there was no tomorrow. Refusing to remove his attention away from the screen. Oikawa, who was present, became curious and suspicious of his behaviour. Arching a brow at him, he called out. "Oii~ Hinata! What's with you and all that texting?" he asked, walking towards the said male. "Oh, Oikawa-san! I'm just texting my boyfriend,"

"Oh? Boyfriend? Since when!?" shocked, he plopped by the shorter male. Peeking over to the screen. "Since like forever! He's always busy, so you never get to see him in any high school games," he says, still replying away. The older male hummed as he watched him interact. "Oh. Quite a man you've gotten yourself!" he piped when he saw a tad bit of a photo in the chatroom However, he earned a quick glare from the other with the comment. Oikawa was slightly surprised but decided to ignore it. "Hm... How come you don't just call him?"

"He's deaf. Calls are prohibited. Anyways! Look!" Shoyo showed a picture that [Name] had just sent him. It was a picture of [Name] with Yamaguchi at the college cafeteria they were attending. Oikawa was caught off guard by this critical information about his boyfriend, but again, he decided to move on. "Ah, good for him then,"

"Mhm! I'm so proud of him! He decided to get a degree in arts in photography. There aren't many job opportunities for people like him, so..." he unconsciously showed a cheeky smile. Going back to his phone to continue communicating with his beloved boyfriend. Oikawa's expression softens. "Wow, you guys are unbelievably annoyingly cute," Shoyo laughed at that comment. "I owe him a lot. He supported me like hell. Have so much faith in me. I just want to repay him back,"

The atmosphere between them fell into a gentle breeze. It was calming. Impressed, the older male asked, "Ohh! Do you have any plans about it?" Shoyo's smile widens upon hearing that. "Yeah! I want to gather as much money as I can and get him that cochlear implant," Oikawa's eyes widened, and his back straightened. "What!?? Those things are expensive as hell!"

"I know! Once I have enough, I want to go back to Japan and surprise him with that. Now I can't wait for the day to come," he locked his phone and laid his forehead on the screen. Imagining the scenarios. He felt giddy about it. "As much as I hope for the best for you two, I don't want this to disrupt your volleyball training," the brunette says, leaning onto the palm of his hand. "It won't! I've got everything figured out!" he grinned, pumping his fist as he turned to face the older. Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, shrimp. Now let's go eat for real!"

Two years passed, and finally, the greatest decoy was back home. His plane just landed. Stepping onto his homeland and making his way to receive his stuff. Once he walked through the gates, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. Smells like nostalgia.

"Shoyo," a familiar gentle voice called him. He paused and turned to the direction of the sound. A clicking sound could be heard. He saw the love of his life standing there, holding up an expensive-looking camera marking him. His lips stretched into a wide, toothy smile. He started running towards him and pounced on him. Clinging onto him like a koala. [Name] let out a big laugh, locking the male tightly in his arms. "[N/N]!!!!!" Shoyo wept deafeningly. Any passerby stared at the two with a few judging and sympathetic looks.

A wave of relief rushes over him and suddenly all of his tension leaves his body. He felt lighter. A whiff of a smell that lingered on [Name]'s clothing comforted him. He smells like home.

The decoy pulled himself off his lover but his grip on [Name]'s clothes stayed. "How did you know I was coming home today?!" he exclaimed. "Oikawa-san may or may not have texted me," he giggled. "Oikawa-san? No way! I wanted to surprise you! That damn great king!! He beat me with my own boyfriend?!??" he yelled once more. At this rate, they might get kicked out by security. [Name] nudged his boyfriend. "Let's get out of here and eat lunch," he suggested, lifting a paper bag that he had with him. The volleyball player nodded and took his hand, making their way out together.

They settled down at a peaceful park. The photographer had planned a mini picnic with just the two of them. They ate with satisfaction. Shoyo leaned against his boyfriend as they watched the children play about. His cell phone beeped. He took out to see an email. His eyes widened slightly as he sat up, alerting the other. "Sho? What's going on?" [Name] asked. Shoyo's expression was full of glee. He quickly put down his bento and scooted closer to the other. "I have a gift for you!" he signed excitedly. The other male raised a brow. Shoyo then took his hands. Looking down at them and caressing them lightly before lifting them up to kiss the knuckles. "I have booked an important appointment. For you,"

"An appointment? For me?" Shoyo nodded. "I need you to clear up your schedule tomorrow because tomorrow you're going to meet your doctor to discuss about your cochlear implant," he signed each word slowly. Making sure his partner was able to understand it fully. [Name] narrowed his eyes, not believing a single word. "Are you joking with me?"

"I'm not! Look!" Shoyo picked up his phone and went through his emails. Pressing on one particular inbox and showing it to the other. It was an email from a hospital in Tokyo confirming the appointment date. [Name] read it. Reality slowly kicks in. "Shoyo, are you being for real?" his lips trembled lightly. His boyfriend nodded with a smile on his face. "Yes! I'm being so for real right now!" The [h/c] haired gazed down to his lap, clearing the lump in his throat. "Shoyo..." his voice cracked. "Thank you... Thank you..!" his tone differs every second. Filled with so much gratitude that he couldn't stay composed. Shoyo moved himself to sit right by his side and wrapped an arm around his arm. Letting [Name] lean against him. His head lying on the other. "Shoyo... I love you so much," he declared. The other hummed as he responded, "I love you too, [N/n]," The tangerine-haired then reached up to graze his knuckles along his boyfriend's cheeks. [Name] rubbing lightly against his touch. Earning for more. "I know you wanted to get them yourself but I can't let you. You've been such an amazing boyfriend to me and I just wanted to repay you," [Name] read his lips, showing an assured smile. "You're such an amazing boyfriend to me too, Sho,"

The appointment went well. The doctor was patient and nice. The doctor informed them that [Name] must meet the requirements and go through a few tests if he's suitable to get the implant. The process would take a few weeks, almost a month. The couple will have to be patient for it. While the [h/c] goes through it, Shoyo will be supporting him throughout.

The day of the surgery arrives. [Name] was already in surgery while his boyfriend waited in the waiting room. Bouncing his legs, hands clasped together. Shoyo couldn't help but worry. Anxious as hell. All of the possible bad situations came infiltrating his mind.

What if he doesn't make it through? What if he loses his ears? What if the surgery accidentally cut his ears off?!!!!? What if the surgery fails and he can't hear for the rest of his life?? That he'll be so depressed that he won't have the will to live anymore because he will never ever hear my voice again!!??

Luckily, all of his friends were there to snap him out of it. "Ow!! What was that for!?" he groaned after a certain blue-haired male chopped the top of his head with the side of his open hand. "You're freaking out, dumbass!"

"You're sweating up a pool. Stop it, It's disgusting," Tsukishima added, expressing a disgusted face. "Don't worry, Shoyo! He'll make it!" Yachi tries to comfort the male. "Yeah! Besides, he's getting an implant, not a heart surgery!" Yamaguchi tries to support the female's claims. The mention of heart surgery made Shoyo retch harshly. Almost fainting in the process. Chaos ensues. In the end, they all brought Shoyo out to ease his mind.

The doctor mentioned that it would take a week for the implant to heal, so after that surgery, the gang treated the patient for a simple outing. Nothing too extreme. For the rest of the week, they let the male rest while Shoyo was heavily treating him as if he had an incurable disease.

At last, [Name] went for his final checkup. He would finally get the final piece of his cochlear implant. There he sat on a chair--across his doctor's office desk--with his boyfriend beside him. The doctor congratulated the couple. Complimenting and praising the two for how they've handled the surgery recovery. He then pulled out a box and placed it on the desk. Sliding it towards his patient. "Here it is. Your cochlear implant!" he exclaimed with a smile on his face. "I'll leave you with it now. I have another patient to attend to so I'll leave you to it," he continued, making his way out.

[Name]'s lips trembled slightly as overwhelm overcame him. He hesitantly took the box in his hands. His heart pounds loudly. He let out a low grumble before turning to Shoyo. "Will you do the honours, my love?" he signed. Shoyo's eyes stayed glued to him and gulped afterwards. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. You've been so caring and understanding towards me. Babe, you even attended sign language classes with me. Up until now, you've helped me. Now, this is your reward. Be the one that gives me the ability to hear again. As for me, let me hear you," [Name] expressed his feelings through his words. Even though his words were slightly slurred, they hit Shoyo straight into his heart. He was deeply moved, eyes swelling up a little. "Okay. Let's do this!"

Determined, he took the box from [Name]'s lap. Taking a deep breath and out, he lifted the lid. There it was. The hearing device lying comfortably in the softness of the white cushion. "Close your eyes," he told his boyfriend who complied. He then took the devices out. Attaching them onto the side of [Name]'s head and ears.

The breeze, the sound of the air conditioner running. He hears it. A gush of wind brushes along [Name]'s skin. He gasped sharply and his eyes almost popped out. He hears his breath. His heart beating at a rapid and exciting pace. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he snapped to Shoyo. His eyes glistened. He gave him a longing look. It tells him so much. But one stood out.

Speak for me...!

Without hesitation, Shoyo parted his lips. "[Name], I love you..!" he yelled. Shocked waves filled [Name]. It was so loud that he instantly covered his ears, flinching. The other male panicked. Spouting a series of apologies while his arms flailed around. Then the sound of laughter echoed. He looked at his boyfriend was laughing with tears. [Name] sprung out of his chair, embracing his loved one. "I can hear you!" he beamed. Shoyo's heart pumped. He hugged him back tightly while his lips stretched ear to ear. Practically laughing along with his lover as well. "You can hear me!" he repeated.

"Say my name again, Sho," the [h/c] head asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his lover's neck. "[Name]," the other replied. This time saying it slowly and articulated each syllable. "Again," he demanded. Shoyo repeated himself once more. This time his tone was much softer. [Name] pulled away from the hug and leaned in for a sweet kiss. Shoyo didn't hesitate to kiss back, slowly wrapping his arms around the other's neck. "Thank you," the taller male breathed out. Pulling away from Shoyo's lips to kiss his forehead instead. "I love you. I love you. I love you," now kissing all over his face, earning a giggle.

The decoy cupped his face, stopping him from giving any more kisses. He gazed into his eyes with a loving expression. "[Name]. I. Love. You." A light tint of pink painted itself over [Name]'s cheeks. Bringing up his own hands and rested them over Shoyo's.

"Please. Say that again,"

[tags]: @ghostgoosygoose

[heartysworld]

Never Again || Luke Castellan x Reader

W.C: 2.3k

Warnings: none that I could think of

A/N: Requests are open everyone! I'll start working on them as soon as I finish the 2 fics from my poll (this is one of them) Also, I've scheduled this to be posted at 4AM local time where I live, so surprise me when i wake up (I've had the shittiest day ever).

My Newest Fic <3

You grew up as a happy child, content with life and the many siblings you had. It was never boring in the Apollo Cabin, that’s for sure. As you grew she found yourself surrounded by friends, one curly-haired boy in particular standing out. The moment Luke arrived at camp he couldn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off the pretty girl who was the first thing he saw in the infirmary once he opened his eyes after that tragic night.

He spent month chasing after her, wanting to become her friend first before she could bring herself to even consider him something more than that. Everyone at camp witnessed the innocent friendship the two shared blossom into something bigger, stronger and passionate. Luke and Y/N were the sweethearts of Camp Half-Blood by the time the Apollo girl turned seventeen.

Nobody expected what was about to happen the night everything changed between the two. Luke and Y/N had just gotten off counselor duties and had headed out towards the lake where they could have some much-needed peace and quiet. Cuddled together the two laid over a blanket near the water, admiring the start-lit sky than hung above them.

 That was all Luke ever wanted, peace and happiness with the girl he loved so dearly. The two had even spoken about their plans after it was time to leave the camp. They planned on moving in together, maybe going to college if they managed to stabilize their hectic lives.

The last thing from that night in Y/N’s mind was Luke calling her name, despair and fear laced with his loud voice. Then, everything went black.

‘’Look who’s finally awake. You gave us quite the scare, Y/N, we were starting to worry.’’ One of your brother said as he approached your bed, helping you settle against the wall and handing you a glass of water.

‘’What…what happened?’’ you asked, voice hoarse and quiet.

‘’Michael, what happened?’’ you asked more insistently this time.

‘’I might get into trouble for even opening my mouth but…you had a vision, Y/N. Chiron thinks you are a seer, him and Mr. D have been going over possible triggers that might have caused the outburst that you had. It was scary, Y/N, I’m not gonna lie to you. Luke was scared shitless, the two of you were together when it happened. He might be one of our strongest camp mates but three nights ago he looked so weak and helpless. It was as if I he was a whole different person.’’ Your brother said. His words felt like a bucket of cold water that was poured over you.

The only thought in your mind now was Luke. Where was he? Was he fine? Had he come to check up on you while you were unconscious? Was it was over?

‘’Where’s Luke? Have you seen him?’’ you asked, a concerned expression present on your tires face.

‘’He came a couple of times but he left quickly. I don’t think he was able to bring himself to stay longer, you know…with his mom and everything.’’ Michael said, the last part of his sentence barely audible.

‘’I have to go find him, come on help me get up.’’ You said, using all of your strength to get up from the bed, unsuccessfully. Your libs felt as heavy as concrete.

‘’Hey, hey calm down! Before you do something stupid and fall unconscious, again I have to go and tell Chiron you’re awake. His orders!’’ your brother helped you sit back down on the bed before exiting the infirmary to go look for the old man.

After what felt like an eternity, Chiron entered the infirmary, a solemn expression on his face. He approached your bed, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and responsibility.

"Y/N, I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?" Chiron inquired, his voice gentle yet firm.

"I need to find Luke," you replied urgently, ignoring the question about your well-being. "I need to talk to him."

Chiron sighed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered your request. "Y/N, you need to rest. We're still trying to contact Apollo to understand the nature of your abilities. Running around in your condition is not advisable."

"I don't care," you insisted, frustration and worry etched on your face. "I need to find him. I need to know if... if it's over between us."

Chiron regarded you for a moment before nodding understandingly. "Very well. I will allow you to go to your cabin and rest. But promise me, you'll take it easy. We'll continue our efforts to contact Apollo, and we'll keep you informed."

You nodded, grateful for the permission to leave the infirmary. As you made your way to Cabin 7, thoughts of Luke and the uncertain future raced through your mind. When you entered, the familiar surroundings offered little comfort. It was supposed to be a place of solace, but now it felt like a battleground of emotions.

Resting on your bed, you couldn't shake off the anxiety that gnawed at you. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't find peace. The weight of the unknown, coupled with the fear of losing Luke, lingered in the air.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, you decided to search for Luke. You needed answers, closure, anything to ease the turmoil within you. You needed to know whether the meddling of the Gods with the human world was about to take away the one person you love the most. With determination, you headed towards the training grounds where you often found him honing his skills.

The training area was dimly lit, shadows dancing with each flicker of torchlight. Luke was there, his back turned to you as he practiced his swordsmanship. His shirt was drenched with sweat, not leaving much to one’s imagination. If the situation wasn’t as serious, you’d be doing something completely different now. As you approached, his muscled visibly tensed. Luke had always been able to sense whenever you were around.

"L-Luke," you stammered, uncertainty lacing your voice.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "Y/N," he acknowledged, but there was a coldness in his eyes and voice, one that hadn't been there before.

"I need to talk to you," you whispered, your heart pounding. You’ve always felt calm in Luke’s presence before. The two of you even joked at some point that he was your personal calming agent, but now, everything felt completely different. You felt so out of place that it was unbelievable.

He hesitated, then sighed, sheathing his sword. "Can it wait? I'm not in the mood for a conversation right now." Avoiding the problem was one of Luke’s fatal flaws, at least when It came to your relationship.

"No, it can't," you insisted, your emotions bubbling to the surface. "Is it over, Luke? Do you no longer want to be with me?" You cut straight to the point. ‘’I’ve been awake for hours and not even once have you tried to approach me to see how I am, if I’m even alive and breathing!’’

His eyes flickered with a mix of pain and frustration. "Y/N, it's not that simple. I... I can't."

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the ground beneath you crumble. "Can't what? Luke, please, I need to understand."

A heavy silence hung between you before he spoke, his voice strained. "I haven't been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her—my mother, then I see you. The accident, the fear in hers and your eyes from that night. It haunts me, Y/N."

You didn’t need to hear him say it that he needed to feel your touch at that moment. Carefully, step by step you got closer to him until your arms enveloped his much larger and warmer form. The second your skin came in touch with Luke’s his arm went around you like a protective barrier. He nuzzled his head in the crook of you neck, breathing in the sweet scent that he had so dearly missed the past three days. You felt the warm tears stream down the skin of you neck and right at that moment you could swear that you felt your heart shatter for the vulnerable boy who stood in your arms.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the heavy weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on both of you. Luke's grip on you tightened, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you would disappear like a phantom of his imagination.

"You don't understand, Y/N," he whispered, his voice strained. "I keep seeing her, her face contorted in fear. I hear her screams. It's like a never-ending nightmare, and I'm trapped."

You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Luke, I'm not her. I'm not your mother. The circumstances are different. What happened to her was terrible, but we have to keep moving forward. We can face this together. I won't let you go through it alone."

He closed his eyes, his breath shaky. "I'm scared, Y/N. Scared of losing you, scared of repeating the past."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to keep your voice steady. "I'm scared too, Luke. But we can't let fear control us. We can't let it destroy what we have. You are the love of my life, Luke, I won’t allow the Gods’ meddling with our world to ruin us."

He opened his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability and pain that he had been hiding. "I love you, Y/N. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you because of me."

Gently, you wiped away his tears with your thumbs. "I love you too, Luke. But we can't let fear dictate our choices. We have to find a way to move forward, together."

His lips quivered as he struggled to find the right words. "I can't promise it'll be easy. I can't promise I won't be haunted by the past.But I promise to try my hardest to protect you from any danger that threatens to take you from me. I’d rather watch the world go up in flames than have you suffer."

You nodded, your heart breaking for the man you loved. "I don't need promises, Luke. I just need you. We'll face whatever comes our way, you and me."

As you spoke, the moonlight filtered through the leaves above, casting a gentle glow on both of you. The training grounds, once filled with the clash of swords and the echoes of laughter, now bore witness to a somber moment between two souls entwined by fate.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Luke whispered, his voice barely audible. "I never wanted to hurt you." You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. "We've both been hurt, Luke. However, we can heal together. Just don't shut me out."

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he rested his forehead against yours. "I don't deserve you, Y/N."

"Deserving has nothing to do with it," you replied, your voice soft but determined. "Love isn't about deserving; it's about choosing to be with someone, flaws and all."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms a comforting refuge. "I don't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

"I don't want to lose you either," you whispered, your words muffled against his chest.

The nights turned into days, and with each sunrise, a semblance of healing took place. Luke and you faced the challenges of you newfound abilities together, navigating the labyrinth of their emotions. In the quiet moments, you found solace in each other's presence, and in the stormy ones, you stood united against the uncertainties that lingered.

You spent the rest of the night tightly wrapped in the embrace of the man you loved. Luke clung to you for dear life as he slept. You could tell that he needed this even more than you did.

One evening, as the campfire crackled under the starlit sky, Luke took your hand in his, sending a silent invitation to stroll around the lake. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on their faces. The air was thick with the unspoken, the weight of your shared experiences hanging between you.

You stopped suddenly, turning to face Luke, your eyes searching his for reassurance. "We can do this, Luke. We can face whatever comes our way."

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Together."

As if drawn by an invisible force, your lips met in a gentle and tentative kiss. It was a kiss filled with the promise of a new beginning, a silent affirmation that love could triumph over even the darkest of shadows. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the soft sounds of nature, labored breaths and the beating of you hearts.

When you pulled away, you admired the way the moonlight reflected in Luke’s  eyes. Everything was quiet. No words were needed. In that kiss, you two found a renewal of hope, a rekindling of the flame that had flickered in the face of adversity.

"I love you," Luke whispered, his forehead resting against you.

"I love you too," You replied, a warmth spreading through her chest.

My Newest Fic <3

Hand in hand, you continued you walk along the lake, leaving behind the ghosts of the past. As you and him disappeared into the night, the echoes of your footsteps mingled with the whispers of the wind, carrying the promise of a future built on resilience, understanding, and the enduring power of love.

[upsidedownmvnson]

the challenge | eddie munson

warnings: angst, hurt, kinda eddies pov, stupid long & tropey, barely edited

AN: i just love the angst sorry :) also this is the worst trope ever but I LOVE IT. I eat it up. also i know i overuse italics its my fatal flaw. willing to do requests & taglists btw <3

i'm not sure how many words per se but it looks really long so

"I'll give you a hundred bucks if you can get any of the cheerleaders to go on a date with you."

After band practice, the conversation had devolved into who had school the band thought was hot.

"Please," Eddie tried to scoff off the idea. "When has that idea ever gone well?"

"I'll also give you a hundred," Jeff said, adding to the fire. They probably didn't expect him to go for it. But he could use two hundred bucks...

Eddie rolled the idea around in his mind. Who would he even ask? There was Chrissy Cunningham, she's sweet... but he was pretty sure she was dating Jason, and the last thing Eddie needed was more problems from that guy. But there was you.

You were different. You were still a cheerleader at Hawkins, sitting with the populars and shaking your pom-poms at every game. But you smiled at Eddie in the hall sometimes. And he'd noticed you'll talk to anyone. You weren't mean. So he could probably charm his way into one little date, and then after the date inevitably goes terribly, he'll collect his easy money and you will go on, blissfully unaware.

It's not like you guys would get along or anything.

"What happens if I lose?" Eddie asked.

"You have to put on an embarassing show in the cafeteria," Jeff said. "And easy one."

"Okay," Eddie said after a long silence, "I'll take your money."

The next day at school, Eddie was sitting on the stairs across from your locker like a predator. It was still forty minutes until first bell, so there were very few people in the halls. He had this whole plan in mind. First, he'd wow you with his natural charm, and then leave you lingering in mystery. Easier said than done, when you came walking down the hallway with a skip in your step and a smile on your face.

It made him feel guilty about this whole thing. But you would never know, so what was the harm?

He approached you slowly, slowly panicking about the idea of bothering you. What if you told the basketball team he was bothering you? What if you acted like he grabbed you, or something...

He fears were cut off by you casually saying, "Hey Eddie."

You knew his name? Why did it sound so nice coming from you?

It's because secretly you were always aware of Eddie. There was something about him that always held your attention. After seeing him for a days, you'd become a closeted metal fan. It started to impress him, but you actually did start to like it. You'd always tried to catch his eye, but it was like he didn't really see you.

"Hey, morning," he said, mind focused on his objective. But it was harder when actually looking down at you. You were pretty cute. You had beautiful eyes.

"Good morning," you said, pleasantly confused at the situation. You noticed Eddie had gotten up when you got closer. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Oh, ha, you noticed that," he said, grabbing your locker door as you opened it, and leaned on it, unintentionally making a show of his hand gripping the edge of the locker.

You felt a flutter in your chest, "Well, what can I do for you?"

"I've seen you here early before," Eddie mused, as if he'd ever been here early, but he had his intel. "Thought I could give you a little company."

"That's sweet," you said, smiling like you were hiding a laugh. "I've never seen you around before class. Only coming in late."

"I'm shocked at such an accusation," he said, leaning closer. "It hurts to believe you think so lowly of me." There was a level of teasing in his tone that made butterflies erupt within you.

"You know," you started, "I was supposed to go see Halloween 3 tonight but my girlfriends chickened out..."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well I still want to go," you said. You couldn't hint anymore if you tried. "Are you looking for company tonight?"

"What?" Eddie couldn't mask his surprise. He was supposed to come over here and charm you into a date, but... you asked him?? "Uh yeah, I can take you to the movies."

"What time is your club done? We can go after that," you said, smiling. You were just trying to be considerate, but you were making Eddie weak in the knees. Were you really this aware of him? If anything, he was wondering why you cared more than how you knew.

"I'll see when the late shows plays and make sure we'll be there," he said, "just give me your address, I'll pick you up."

The blush on your cheeks made him smile, but the gentle touch of your hand as you grabbed his arm and pushed the sleeve up, using a marker to write down the street and and number. Eddie was totally at your mercy by this point, but you just had to make worse by bringing his arm up to your face to kiss what you'd written, looking up at him with the devil in your eye.

"Kiss from a maiden has to boost luck, right?"

Suddenly, the terms of the game changed. You asked him out. It was not what he expected. He expected it would take several days before he finally asked you out. He had this whole plan in his mind, and you just... you kissed him on the arm, like it was a normal thing for you to do to him. Now he didn't really want the money, he just wanted you to that again. Feel your soft touch. Anything that would put that look back into your eye.

Everyone at Hellfire could see that Eddie was distracted. His campaign was nothing less than infallible as per usual, but his theatrics were toned down, and he was fumbling over the dice as if he wasn't always paying total attention.

After the session, Jeff and Gareth hung around. Mainly to check on their friend.

"I have to go," Eddie said, fumbling with his bag. He didn't want to tell the guys about you. He didn't want to pop the fantasy of having you all to himself. Not yet.

Eddie still had it in his mind that the date would flop. What chance did he have to impress someone like you? This whole situation was spiralling quickly. And he fucking knew better than to take a stupid bet issued at midnight after a bunch of beers. He should've called it off right there, he should've said it's stupid and objectifying the cheerleaders and that was mean, but he said nothing. He just packed his things, and told his friends he'd see them later.

He didn't have time to go change, he didn't want you to miss your movie because of him. And he was just really anxious to see you again. There was a small part of his brain, a little nagging brain cell, telling him that maybe... just maybe, this date will go well and he can get you to look at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

Your house was right in the middle of suburbia, which had Eddie losing his cool slowly. You were different, and he knew that already, but it was a comfort to remind himself as he drove passed identical, picket fenced houses. Your house was no different. Picket fence, flowers in the window sill, green grass mowed to the same height.

He parked the van and got out, walking through the gate and up the short cobblestone path leading up to your front door. He brought a knuckle up to your door, tapping lightly twice. Maybe you would bail and he wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore. He looked at the flowers beside the house, and mentally kicked himself for not bringing you anything for you. You deserved flowers.

But you were there, waiting to answer the door a few moments after he knocked. You had counted to ten in your head before he answered, not wanting to seem too keen.

"Hey," you said, dazzling him again with an innocent smile. His voice was stuck in his throat as he looked at you. Eddie hadn't expected your cheerleading outfit or anything... but what didn't expect was a cropped Slayer shirt. It looked like you had cut it yourself, but he couldn't let himself get caught staring at the frayed edges, because that's where the exposed skin was, tempting him to look. Or worse, tempting him to reach out, running his calloused fingers over the skin that looked painfully soft.

"Hey," he say quietly, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. How had he managed to fuck this up before talking to you for the first time? "Sorry I didn't get flowers or change or do anything all at to impress you. I kinda rushed right from school."

"You want to impress me?"

Eddie's mind was reeling. "Is there anyone out there who doesn't?"

You giggled, and Eddie didn't think he could take it anymore. If he just spilled his guts right now, he could stop himself a world of confusion. After this, he'd probably be stuck with the image of you for weeks. He's probably caused him heartache and pain when this doesn't work out. Or... worse... it does work out and one of his idiot friends tells you how this started, and then he was still heartbroken and fucked.

Eddie said nothing as he led you to the van.

On the way to the movies it was quiet, but not uncomfortable. You asked him about his day, which made him blush because, it's a simple that people never really asked him. Especially beautiful cheerleaders.

He didn't know how he was supposed to forget this. How could he continue to drive Jeff and Gareth around while he's seen you in his passenger seat... with a Slayer shirt on.

"Can I pick something?" you asked, finding a small stash of cassettes under the seat.

"Sure," he said. He's pretty sure he would've let you do whatever you wanted, as long as you stayed beside him in this van forever.

You slipped the current tape out, and slipped in Metallica. Fight Fire with fire came on and you sat back in your seat.

"Why this one?" he asked. He wanted to know. He wanted you to give some cheesy answer so he could figure out an excuse to not like you, to fight all the reasons he was starting to like you anyway. It was just a shirt, maybe you didn't listen to them at all.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls is my favourite right now," you said casually.

"What about Slayer? What's your favourite?"

"You quizzin' me?" you quipped, laughing as Eddie widened his eyes. You cut him off before he could apologize. "Die by the Sword." You drummed your fingers absentmindedly against your jeans. "Always had this fantasy about riding into battle, yaknow, Lord of the Rings style."

"Who are you?" Eddie asked, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter. "You like Lord of the Rings and Slayer." He said it as a fact, not a question. With every casual answer you gave, a knife was turning in his stomach, reminding him that he was the bad guy. He took a stupid bet, from his stupid friends, and it was keeping him from enjoying this moment fully. There was a little voice reminding him that what he's doing, is shit people like Jason Carver would do.

"Yes, and?"

And nothing. You were just casting a spell on Eddie that he would need a miracle to undo. "So you're a hidden freak."

"Being hidden is lame," you said, "I wouldn't lie if they asked."

"Who is they?" he asked.

"The other cheerleaders, the jocks, anyone at school really."

"You don't get along with the other cheerleaders?"

"No, I do. They're my girls. <3" You smiled, biting the skin beside your thumb. "I just don't talk about fantasy epics with them, they're not really interested."

"I don't know," he teased, pulling into the movie theatre parking lot. "You don't really seem like any cheerleaders I know."

"And how many cheerleaders do you know?"

He laughed, parking the car. He was starting to ease into it a little more. Enjoying your presence while he can. "Fair enough."

"Shaking those pom-poms is going to get me a scholarship, and a scholarship will get me out of here." The words were less airy and playful than the rest had been. He'd taken note of your serious tone when talking about getting out of here. There was hardly a line, most of the movies started a couple minutes earlier, there were just a few Halloween stragglers.

"In a rush out of here?" he asked. He wanted to know everything about you.

"You could say that," you said. "I don't have a problem with Hawkins but my parents are... I just..." you trailed off. "Let's not ruin a good time."

He nodded, not needing to hear anything else. After light squabbling about who would pay for the tickets, Eddie passed his money over to the ticket guy, who had an obvious line of sight to your stomach. Or maybe it was your chest he was staring at, either away, Eddie was finding it really annoying. He used his arm to gently guide you behind him, blocking most of the box office employees view.

He felt protective over you. Which is ironic, because at the start of the day he had a plan to woo you, to take you on a date for a bet. And now, he wanted to protect you from hurt.

The worst kind of hypocrite.

The conversation died when the two of you shuffled into the little theatre. The movie had been out long enough that it wasn't too busy. It was nice, being in the dark together, silently watching the movie. You weren't really scared, but you still liked it. Eddie however, wasn't loving it as much as you.

Eddie was having such a nice time, that he was able to push the bet out of his mind completely.

After the movie, pretty much everything was closed, except the 24 hour diner a little bit down the highway, so that's where he took you. He drove about twenty minutes just to eat greasy cheeseburgers and sickeningly sweet milkshakes because he just couldn't bare for this night to be over yet.

"Guess I gotta get you home," Eddie said after the food. "It's already passed midnight."

"Oh that's okay," you said, leaving money on the table for food. "They'll be gone until next week anyway. I don't they'd care when I got home."

Eddie wanted to ask, but he could tell your parents weren't something you liked to talk about.

"Well, if we've both nowhere to be, maybe we should stick together."

"Why don't you take me home anyway and we can watch another movie."

"I'd like that."

The ride back to your place seemed shorter, or maybe he was just excited to see where you live. He wanted to see your room. He was so curious about you. He just wanted to know everything.

Your house was quiet, pitch black and lonely... like it always was. You let him in, and he awkwardly shuffled in behind you. He copied what you did by taking your shoes off by the door. Your house opened into the living room, with stairs right beside.

"Can I see your room?" he asked, half expecting you to say no but you answered with a quick "sure!" and led him up the stairs. He watched your ass the whole time you walked ahead of him.

"It's kinda boring," you said, opening the door. There wasn't really much to it. A few posters on the wall; a couple were bands he liked and there were a few movie posters too. Your cassettes were all stacked on your desk neatly, and there were vinyls beside that, a small table there to hold the record player. He was talking and poking through them, while you sat on the bed, watching him intently. He was shocked to see you actually had some of the same things he did. And you... you had bands he didn't know. One day, he was totally going to borrow those.

He kept chatting as he poked around. This morning, neither one of you could have predicted being here like this. He stopped talking mid sentence, and you could see him looking more at the desk than the music now. You curiously tried to peak at what he was looking at.

"Is this a dnd character sheet?" he asked.

"Oh!" you laughed, standing and joining him by the desk. "Yeah, it is. I'd been trying to work up the nerve to ask you to teach me, but, I guess I didn't have to."

And just like that, you had him.

You had him totally and fully and he wished he'd never taken that stupid challenge with his stupid friends about the stupid money. His mind was emotional soup.

"You were gunna ask me to teach you dungeons and dragons?" he asked, totally stunned into silence, again.

"Well..." you blushed, turning away from him. He saw it though. "I kind of have a crush on you, Eddie. Maybe before tonight it wasn't like... real, because I didn't actually know you but..." You smiled, so soft and sweet, it made Eddie feel warm and vulnerable. "Now I know it is real."

What was he supposed to do? Look at you while you're vulnerable like that and just tell you what he's done? No shot. No fucking way would he let any of his dumb choices get in the way of, whatever this was going to be.

"I like you, too," he said finally, smiling back at you. The problem was, while it was true, it didn't feel as genuine. He did like you, but that's not how it started.

And what was he supposed to do when you looked like you wanted a kiss? Not kiss you? That would be rude.

Eddie leaned in slowly, and so did you. He brought his hand up, coddling your face and brushing a thumb over your cheek. He said, "you're so beautiful," before closing the gap and putting his mouth on yours. It was small, mouths parted and puckered, moving slowly. It was a short kiss, but a tender first one.

Until you said, "sorry if I'm not a good kisser, I haven't done much kissing," with a blush.

"You haven't done much kissing?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I'm so... inexperienced."

"No, it's okay! I don't really get to kiss anyone either."

"You can kiss me whenever you want," you said, bounce in your step as you grabbed his hand and led him back downstairs.

You let him pick a movie while you set up the couch with some blankets. He settled beside you one the couch once the movie started, and you snuggled into his side as if you owned it. Which may as well be true already, and passed out within five minutes of the movie starting. He told himself sternly that he would leave when the movie was over, and he did mean it. But he also rested his head on yours and tried to fall asleep before he saw any credits.

Which he did.

Monday morning rolling around was another one of Eddie's punishments. The bliss of his imaginary life came hurdling towards the end, and it was filling him with anxiety. Like, so fucking much anxiety.

At school, he'd be unable to avoid his friends. Eddie had spent much of Saturday morning lounging at your house with you. You two made breakfast, listened to some music, and then watched a movie. He had to leave eventually, since he didn't want to kiss you with morning breath. But he'd called you that night... and the one after that. He just couldn't get enough of you.

Eddie had avoided his best friends most of the morning, mostly by just being late. Unfortunately, that also had meant he'd avoided you. He'd hoped you'd come into the cafeteria first. He was biting his nails, his leg rapidly shaking up and down. You had said he can kiss you anytime... did that mean school, too? He hoped so. He hoped you would come into the freaking cafeteria.

But his fantasy bubble had officially popped when Jeff grabbed him by the shoulders from behind, scaring him.

"Bud, you've been holding out on us."

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asked. Gareth and Jeff sat at the table with him.

"Same thing that everyone is talking about, you and y/n."

"What?" Eddie had been so focused on not talking to anyone that he hadn't heard anything.

"Someone's sister saw you leaving her house on Saturday, and I distinctly remember you rushing out of Hellfire on Friday."

"What are people saying?"

"Some are saying drugs, some are saying you guys have sex. Did you? Did you have sex with her?"

"No," Eddie said, effectively wiping the smile off Gareth's face. "But I may have slept there."

His friends looked at each other, and then at him, and Eddie took one selfish moment to be excited about it. It was his fatal mistake.

"Are you guys gunna go out again?" Jeff asked. Eddie grinned, and nodded.

"Well, a deal is a deal. Here goes all my savings on some dumb bet," Gareth said.

They should've had a sign, some bat signal that Eddie could show above the entire student body that would get his best friends to shut the fuck up because you were behind them, walking closer and smiling at Eddie with that same sweet smile on your face.

You must have slipped in when he was talking to the guys. He tried to shush Gareth without being obvious, but Gareth was being so fucking loud. If he didn't shut up soon you were going to hear him. Eddie's heart was racing. Jeff kicked Gareth, but apparently not hard enough because he just kept talking.

Eddie's heart was going to beat out of his chest... like in Alien...

"I can't believe you got y/n on a date in like, one day." Gareth scoffed. "Maybe you let her in on it for some of the money. Last time I make a bet with you losers."

And it was like watching a star die. Your beautiful smile gone, replaced with a quivering lip and a look in your eye that reflected agony, instead of the little bit of trouble he loved so much. Eddie was going to throw up. For a second you two just looked at each other, Eddie had his hands an inch off the table, he was shaking.

He fucking knew this scenario never worked out for anyone.

And then you were running out of there, and he was hot on your heels. It must have looked bad, you running out crying while Eddie chased you. After rumors of drugs deals and scandalous sex, the fire was most definitely stoked.

Eddie shouted after you, following you all the way outside. Out there, where no one was really lingering, you turned around. There were a few tears rolling down your cheeks, and you chewed on the skin of your lip.

"Please tell me that it doesn't mean what it sounds like," you begged, stepping closer. The hurt tone of your voice sent a dagger into his chest with every word. He did this. "If you can just-" you hiccuped, "tell me that. Then we can go to the diner and we can go, we can go wherever you want. Anywhere. Just tell me that it wasn't what it sounded like."

Eddie didn't say anything. He couldn't.

He didn't have anything good enough to say.

You just watched him with tears in your eyes. It seemed like you were begging him with your eyes. He wished he had anything to tell you. It wasn't what it seemed like, or maybe it was for a good cause. But he didn't have anything.

"But," you cried, "but you said you liked me."

"I do like you," he said quickly, his voice surprisely hoarse. Being able to say something true made him spring into action. "I like you so much. I'm so sorry, I'm really so so fucking sorry, but please. Just let me make it up to you. Obviously I don't want the money, I was going to tell them it's off but I just... I didn't, I don't know why. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What was the bet?"

"What?"

"What were the terms and conditions of the bet?"

"Is that... really productive..." he trailed off when he looked at you. Eddie sighed, and looked to his feet for some kind of comfort. He found none. "Two hundred bucks for a date with any of the cheerleaders. If I fail I embarrass myself at purpose at school."

"You were right that wasn't productive," you said.

"I'm so sorry," he said, "I can still fix it."

"Do what you want. I'm going home."

"Let me take you."

"No, no... you've done plenty, thanks."

And against what he really wanted, he let you go. If you didn't want him around right now he wouldn't push it. Eddie would just have to fix this. He had a plan to woo you once, he could do it again. But this time it would be because he knows he can treat you right. He can be the guy you deserve. He would bring you flowers. He'd never hurt you.

...this was just a really bad example... that's all.

[werepuppy-steve]

like june, august was also a rough month. work has been kicking my ass more and more lately, leaving me little to no time to enjoy my hobbies. i've been playing video games more recently to get my brain to relax and unwind more than i've been reading, admittedly. but we're trying our best.

something new this time: a gen rec section where i rec any non stranger things/steddie fics i read for the month!

<- july fic rec • more fic recs • my ao3

you were warm when everything was cold - G, 5.4k, complete @lesbianrobin

tags: lumax, background steddie, established relationship, masculinity crisis, lucas centric

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together. Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Sweet Boy - E, 2/2, complete Ghost_ing_Temptations

tags: dom/sub, puppy play, accidental subspace, good boy steve harrington

Steve is used to it by now, the teasing 'good dog's thrown his way, the occasional 'fetch.' He's not sure when the idea of him as the Party's resident guard dog started, but he's gotten over the swirling feeling in his stomach at those words... pretty much. Regardless, Robin is capable of convincing him of anything. So here he is hosting a Halloween get together dressed in ears, a tail and the real kicker - a collar. What could go wrong?

Horny for Horsepower - E, 2.5k, complete Oralmystery

tags: crackfic, transformers au, masturbation

Steve is a transformer and Eddie is the mechanic in love with him. Dustin accidentally spills soda all over Steve’s backseat and Eddie has to clean it up. In spite of Eddie's best efforts the sticky situation only gets stickier.

future in your hand (signed, sealed, delivered) - T, 10.3k, complete formous_iniquis

tags: no upside down au, penpals, childhood friends to lovers, appalachian eddie, road trips

Dear Eddie, Mrs. Simpson says I’m supposed to thank you for volunteering to be my partner even though you’re a fifth grader. I don’t know why I should though since now I actually have to do this stupid pen pal project. I know she only paired me with an older kid cause she thinks I’m dumb. But thanks for the extra work I guess. Sincerely (cause we aren’t friends), Steve Harrington --- Assigned to be pen pals elementary school, Steve and Eddie find themselves growing closer than they could have imagined as children. Sending letters where they become confidants, friends, and more over the years they write to one another. Nearly a decade after they start an incident sends Steve himself to Eddie. The two leave Hawkins and road trip together to their Happily Ever After.

Burnin' for You - T, 7.1k, complete @soaringornithopter

tags: no upside down au, modern au, t4t steddie, mutual pining, getting together

During a record breaking heatwave, the residents of Hawkins are forced to endure rolling blackouts. Eddie learns he can't handle the unbearable heat and takes steps to try to improve his situation. While on the hunt for work, he repeatedly crosses paths with Steve, who decides to invite Eddie over to take a break from the weather by enjoying the Harrington's pool and reliable central air conditioning. It may take a few visits before they finally get what they both want.

crush notes - T, 4/4, complete @steddiecameraroll

tags: post-s2, secret admirer, getting together

“So, you’re getting love letters?” “Well, I wouldn’t call them love letters, more like crush notes…” Eddie Munson has a secret admirer. He has no idea who it could be, but maybe his new friendship with the one and only Steve Harrington can come in handy.

honeysuckle - E, 2.4k, complete (ao3) @hawkinsbnbg

tags: dom/sub, breeding kink, cock cages, face slapping, daddy kink, good boy steve harrington, overstimulation, prostate milking

Eddie didn't look upset per se. He looked— Amused. Like he knew exactly why Steve acted that way and was more than ready to make it worse.

hidden lace - E, 2.8k, complete (ao3) @steddieas-shegoes

tags: lingerie, secret relationship, car sex, public sex, top eddie, bottom steve

Steve is pissed at Eddie. Like, genuinely pissed. Not that cute, haha my boyfriend was being annoying but I love him, pissed. The kind where if he saw him right now, he’d do something really stupid, like yell or break up with him. And he knew he didn’t actually want to do that.

Bark At The Moon - T, WIP @evillittleguy

tags: pre-series, canon rewrite, werewolf steve, pining

He just wants to go home. He doesn’t even know what home is anymore. He rolls onto his butt and sits in the dirt. Alone in the woods he lets himself cry.  After the worst of it is over and he’s sniffling away the snot and the tears- wiping with his sleeve- he realizes he’s being watched and freezes. In front of him only a few feet away a small honey-brown wolf is poorly hidden in the underbrush.

Coming home to you - E, 1.3k, complete @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

tags: established relationship, post series, fluff and smut, soft dom eddie, sub steve, dry humping

Eddie is halfway through composing an absolutely sick riff when the front door slams shut. The sound rattles the walls of the apartment and sends one of their framed photos askew. Eddie blinks, pulling off his headphones and taking a few moments to get his bearings. It’s starting to turn dark outside and his stomach is rumbling. Shit, for how long was he out?  “Stevie? You home?” he calls, but the apartment stays quiet, bar for the creak of the bedroom door and the thud of a body hitting the mattress. Eddie frowns, setting the guitar aside and padding across the hallway.

don't' want to move on - E, 3.1k, complete (ao3) @steddieas-shegoes

tags: modern au, exes to lovers, frottage

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed. Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy. But he couldn’t get out of this one. And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

Heartache to Heartache - E, 1.7k, complete (ao3) @steddie-island | kintsugi_kid

tags: established relationship, make up sex, top eddie, bottom steve

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie had asked. His hands shook with his anger, his frustration, with the desire to grab this stupid beautiful boy by the shoulders. "What the fuck, Steve?" "I was helping," Steve said, clearly confused. "I just wanted to help—" "No, you were just using Daddy's money to make problems go away again." Steve had winced at that, but then he'd straightened his spine. "Yeah, I used my dad's money. So what? Why does it matter how it got paid for?" or Steve and Eddie have a fight. And then they get to make up about it.

Do it for him - T, 1.5k, complete (ao3) @steddie-island | kintsugi_kid

tags: established relationship, medical trauma, hurt/comfort

"I'm worried about you," Eddie had whispered in bed one morning, when Steve was in that soft space between sleep and wakefulness. "I know your hearing is getting worse, and you need glasses… I know you didn't get looked at after everything, and I get why, but…" He'd kissed Steve's hair, his temple, his cheek. "I can't lose you. Please, Stevie. For me?" That was all it had taken for Steve to finally give in. or Eddie helps Steve face his fears and get himself checked out.

Safe With You - E, 4.8k, complete (ao3) @hotluncheddie

tags: established relationship, daddy kink, under-negotiated kink, hurt/comfort, soft dom eddie, sub steve

‘Tell me something.’ Eddie says between kisses, quiet and deep and Steve feels like there’s whisky in his belly, thrumming through his veins. Drunk on Eddie Munson. ‘Tell me what you like, show me. Let me help baby.’ His hooded eyes pull Steve in, fingers stroking hairs away from his forehead and lips pressing kisses to his cheekbones. Steve doesn’t know how to answer, how to ask for something he wants. ‘No, I. Te-tell me what you like.’ He says, pulling Eddie’s shirt up and off, giving himself a moment away from eye contact, away from the vulnerability Eddie draws out of him. Eddie lets his T-shirt be tossed away, pulling Steve close and swaying them again gently. Slowing the moment once more. ‘Mmm, I like lots of things. Like making pretty boys feel good, for one.’ He ponders, hand soothing up and down Steve’s back. ‘And you, honey, are the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.’ He smiles, teeth glinting in the soft lamplight. Steve ducks his head as his cheeks flush, smiling, hiding in Eddie’s shoulder. (Or Steve and Eddie try something new, it doesn't quite go to plan, but they talk it through.)

Beautiful Decline - M/E, series, WIP Izzy_Grinch | @troublemakingrebel

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr, rough sex, age difference, secret relationship, good boy ceolbert, falling in love, fix it fic

On a celebration that takes place the night after his father has been crowned a new King of Mercia, Ceolbert feels unwisely bold and seeks Ivarr's company.

Of Dandelions and Nettles - E, 22.3k, complete Izzy_Grinch | @troublemakingrebel

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr, friends to lovers, age difference, first time, ivarr lets ceol-baby get away with so much and everyone is shocked, drunk sex, morning after, flower language

Even when Ceolbert messes up Ivarr's game of Orlog, his plans to pass out drinking and his intentions to wake up alone, Ivarr lets him, as he lets his own hands wander into Ceolbert's hair and down his pliable skin.

Hay Fever - E, 5/5, complete Izzy_Grinch | @troublemakingrebel

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr, age difference, friends to lovers, not so secret relationship, time skips, sexual tension,they fuck in so many stables yall

All it takes is a snap of the last straw. Over the course of five chapters, Ceolbert walks a path from his father's son to a Prince, to an Ealdorman, to a King, each milestone celebrated with Ivarr by his side in the questionable privacy of the local stables.

The Skillful Hunter - M, 5/5, complete hapaxlegomena

tags: assassin's creed valhalla, ceolvarr + ubba, age difference, impotence

Ivarr and Ceolbert pass a year together. Hunting, learning the art of war, and other things a man has to know.

[danganphobia]

Hiii 👋 Saw that you're taking requests. Have you seen the second prompt on the "angry confessions" post? I think it suits laishuro nicely 🙈

"I can't leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?" Toshiro grumbled.

Laios laughed sheepishly. "I mean, I'm fine so it's okay-"

"No, it's not okay!" It was nightfall in the dungeon, taking shelter for the night when Toshiro had asked Laios to see the healed wound on his forearm from the golem attack that occurred earlier, taking the party by surprise. Toshiro and Namari saved the day, and if it weren't for them, Laios would've been crushed to a pulp. "Not when I feel like I'm going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you've hurt yourself."

Laios went silent, watching Toshiro examine his arm. He nervously glanced at Toshiro's angered face, eyebrows twitching, worrying at his lower lip.

"Ah..." Laios chuckled, a faint blush on his cheeks, scratching his head. "Sorry about that. I really worried you back there."

Toshiro glared at him, unable to fight the urge to reach over and tug on Laios' stupid nose, watching him squirm and whine in protest.

"Worry is an understatement, you fool!" Toshiro hissed, careful to not wake up the other party members. "I'm always running all over the place, saving you, you should be able to save yourself..." He ranted on, and a long exhale escaped his lips. "And what if something were to happen, and none of us are around?"

"Shuro," Laios called his name, his voice so gentle it caught Toshiro off guard. Toshiro gathered the courage to look his nuisance of a companion in the eye, ignoring how it made his chest tighten, his throat dry, and his heart pound. Was Laios' eyes always so captivating, like bathing in pure gold? "I'm never worried when I get hurt, because I know you'll always be there to save me. You protect me, and for that, I can trust that you'll be by my side, right?"

Toshiro opened his mouth, gawking. Laios blinked in confusion.

"Why's your face so red, Shuro?"

"Such nonsense!" Toshiro exclaimed, vexing. "You are a skilled warrior, so act like it, for God's sake!"

Laios laughed. "Aw, thanks! So are you!"

Toshiro could just strangle the man right here. No one would know. That was if Toshiro tried as hard as he could to hide Laios' body. Party members looked out for each other; they protected each other. He couldn't just leave Laios to die, throw him to the wolves. Skilled or not, someone needed to keep an eye on his blindspot.

It just so happened Toshiro had to be his knight and shining armor. If he had told Namari about this, she'd just poke fun at him for pretending he didn't care. You'd save him in a heartbeat and you know it, she had said once.

And it wasn't just her, sometimes, Falin thanked him for protecting Laios every now and then. Marcille as well.

They trusted Laios to be Toshiro's responsibility, and there was absolutely no other way to put it.

Toshiro scooted away from Laios, lying on the blankets, feeling himself grow weary.

"Toshiro," he mumbled, turning to his side. Laios hadn't lied down yet, feeling his presence looming over Toshiro's form. "My name. It's Toshiro."

Laios hummed, before he repeated, slowly. "Toshiro."

"Yes. Toshiro."

"So, then, it's not Shuro..." Laios figured. Then, he gasped, startling Toshiro. "Shit! I didn't realize I've been calling you the wrong name all this time! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Keep your voice down you imbecile," Toshiro scolded, hearing rustling as Laios got into his blankets, unusually closer to Toshiro than before. After Laios went quiet, he confessed, "I don't know why. Everyone had gotten used to it already..."

"Well, I can get used to Toshiro," Laios insisted, stubborn as always. "Besides, I like Toshiro a lot more. Sounds pretty... Toshiro... Toshiro..." He murmured to himself, trying to memorize every syllable, so it would permanently burn into his mind. He sounded content, determined, as if he had nearly forgotten everything else that happened today.

Another blush blossomed on Toshiro's cheeks in the dark of the night.

send me a prompt and i'll write you a drabble!