#Thank you for giving me a chance to zone out and think about these guys for a bit ^^

[somegrumpynerd]

What do you think about nicknames in the bad sans gang? Like for each other

Ooooo that's a good question, I hadn't thought about nicknames much actually :o

Killer loves calling Dust "dusty" and "dust bunny", mostly to be annoying. If it bothers Dust, he does a good job hiding it.

I could see Horror when he first joined taking a while to learn Dust and Killer's names and calling them like, "hood" and "target" in the meantime lol maybe he pulls those out sometimes as a joke (or in older brother mode I could see him calling them thing 1 and thing 2)

Horror gets called "big guy" a lot by Killer, it probably starts to spread until all three of them are doing it. It's by far the least insulting nickname he's been given since (gestures vaguely at the plot of horrortale) so he's chill with it.

I feel like Cross is too formal to give nicknames (at least at first) but he gets a lot of "crossy" and "soldier boy" in return (from Killer because he can't be normal). I could see Horror and Dust maybe calling him "kid" every now and then to annoy him.

Killer mostly gets a lot of "bastard" "lil shit" "pest" etc. Maybe "Kills" if they're all getting along for a bit.

[00kittenz]

── homie hoppin’ ( lhs, pjs, sjy, psh ) ּ 𓂅⋆ 📙

๑ Heeseung never wanted to believe the rumors about you around campus, to him you could never do wrong and he sees you as nothing less than an angel. But when his friends begin telling him about their nightly escapades with some “mystery girl” that sounds awfully familiar, he grows more suspicious of your true intentions you’ve been hiding all along.

pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader, college au | warnings: pwp, smut, angst (kinda ??), hook-up culture, yn is the biggest fuckgirl omg (but she’s sooo cuntyy), humour, slut-shaming (not from the boys), daddy kink, oral (m + f. rec), mentions of running a train but it doesn’t happen lol, lots of s.x flashbacks, yn is so unbothered by everything 😴, unprotected s.x (yikes !!!) | teaser wc: 857

thanks to @leeechin & @pshbites for enabling this idea LOL, couldn’t have done it without them frfr. also here’s a silly little preview of what’s to come (it gets real MESSY in this sfdsfsd)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

heeseung was never really the type to ever engage in gossip or drama going around campus. he’d rather simply mind his business and keep it moving, it was useless to entertain it anyway— most of the rumors held zero truth or any proof to back them up. what does seem to grab his attention however, is your name being constantly brought up in almost everyone’s mouths. you were the talk of the whole school and it wasn’t anything good that was being said about the girl he’s been sleeping around with on and off for the past few months or so.

“oh you know about y/n? isn’t she the one who’s always bouncing from one friend group to the next ? i wouldn’t trust her around my man even for a second..”

“didn’t she let leehan hit it at that party last night ? that girl needs to be stopped, she’s always messing around with different guys..”

“wasn’t she just with eunseok last week ? he was telling me all about how him and sungchan took turns on her.”

he couldn’t believe half the stuff that was being said about you. not only was it just plain disrespectful, but it was also disgusting how some people could spew such fabricated nonsense as if you weren’t a real human being with feelings. heeseung knew you two weren’t exclusive but you’ve been seeing each other more frequently, which made him think he might have a chance to make things official. at least he thought so, until he saw you talking with one of his close friends, jaeyun in the library. you both were way too close for comfort and the way you were giving him those same bedroom eyes that you’d always flash at heeseung, made his whole body fill up with an unimaginable amount of rage.

you were quite popular and well known around campus, your charming persona and pretty face was the perfect combo to get anyone to fall head over heels for you. everywhere you went you’d turn heads, all the boys would be breaking their necks just to get a glimpse of you. the tiny skirts you’d always wear had their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, which only made the other girls seethe in utter jealousy. the way you could command an entire room without even trying was a superpower in itself, you didn’t need to put in the extra work to get all the attention on you because everyone gave it to you automatically.

it wasn’t until heeseung began hearing more about his friend’s sex lives that he’d grow more suspicious of what’s really going on. he usually zones out and doesn’t really listen much whenever they talked about it, but since the movie they were watching wasn’t all that interesting, he began shifting his attention to his friends. jaeyun and jongseong were always bragging about how much pussy they’d get but they seemed to hyperfocus on one particular girl that seems to get brought up a lot in their conversations. jaeyun would say how she gave him the ‘most life changing head’ he’s ever received, meanwhile jongseong was describing how some girl he fucked a few days ago rode his dick like a grade A pornstar.

heeseung wasn’t adding much of his input into the conversation, and neither was sunghoon as he tends to keep that part of his life more private. but, what made him suddenly wanna jump up in his seat was when jaeyun was telling them how hot the girl looked when he fucked her from behind, she had a back tattoo and he thought that was the sexiest shit ever. he never specified exactly what the tattoo was, but he remembers that you also had one too. maybe he’s just reading too much into it ? could it really be you they were talking about ? nah.. there’s no way. he’s sure there’s plenty other women with back tattoos walking around campus, it simply could be an eerie coincidence. he knows he isn’t the only one that you’re sleeping with, but to mess around with his friends would be a new low for him. he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he were to find out that happened..

his worries would only worsen when he catches sunghoon smiling and faintly giggling at his phone about something, to which jongseong asks him what’s so funny. sunghoon simply shrugs it off and says it’s nothing, quickly locking his phone before he lifts up from the couch to announce that he’s going back to his dorm. they all exchange their goodbyes and wish him a safe walk back to his place. but when he left, he was walking in the direction completely opposite of his dorm, he was heading the exact same way it took to get to your building instead. now he’s really starting to overthink at this point. there’s absolutely no way you’re actually fucking all of his friends and he doesn’t have a single clue about it. heeseung may be quite oblivious at times but he isn’t that stupid. he’s probably overreacting. again, could just be a very weird coincidence… right ?

just leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Hobby

"Think I'm getting butterflies, but it's really Something telling me to run away" Sub Urban & Bella Poarch

The years go by, and the Anti-ecto Laws that don’t recognize ghosts even animals are still there. And Danny is so tired of it. Even worse, ghost studies are becoming popular. And Danny’s getting sick of it. And he really needs a break. In general, the castle of good old Pariah Dark is potentially a good place to exist, right?

Well, Danny ends up in a perfectly normal civilian family ('cause of СPS or else) in Gotham.

The city is filled with fear, death, and also ectoplasm, which is fine, because it allows Danny not to run into the Ghost Zone for energy for his core. In fact, it’s really strange why so few ghosts are formed in such a comfortable place.

So, a new family. Although the head of family is a billionaire, Danny really wants to give them a chance. Even if he break out in a cold sweat when Bruce looks at him. Well, Fenton blames his past experience. Fuck you, Vlad. Waynes are really nice. And thanks to this adoption he'll be far away from Amity Park, safe from GIW, maybe finally feel like a human being. even if he's not.

So, Danny wants to know about them a little bit more. He has already noticed that Damian collects katanas, Tim is all about hacking, and Jason is obsessed with guns, and Bruce..hm, maybe he need to ask to find out:

Oh, that's explains a lot. Of course highly intelligent ghosts are afraid to settle in a city where one of the wealthiest people is a ghostbuster. That’s why there are so few ghosts in Gotham. Danny is such an idiot that he didn’t realize it before. Gothamites are odd. What if it's especially popular among local rich people? Even if it's not, according to rumors that Bruce’s a Batman's sponsor, Danny sure as hell screwed up. Hm, perhaps he should try to escape to the Infinite Realms through one of the Al Ghul's Pits if this guy Constantine will not answer to his call in a few more minutes.

[hysteria-things]

you should do a story of like chris and the reader play like an adult card game. it just randomly appeared in my head i hope it’s not out of ur comfort zone 😭 also i love ur writing and stories sm!

CARDS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub/dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: everybody goes off to bed except for you and chris. you find a card game and decide to play, not knowing what it has in store.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, drinking, tied hands, blindfold, teasing, oral (male receiving), degradation, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,445

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS IS MY FAVORITE REQUEST SO FAR! nothing is out of my comfort zone anon, don’t worry😘 (and thank you for the compliment!)

shoutout to this game that randomly appeared on my tiktok to give me this idea.

enjoy ;)

“i think i’m going to head off to bed.” nick announces, stumbling his way to his feet.

you, the triplets, nate, and madi decided to rent out an airbnb for a weekend getaway. it’s rare when you guys have free time.

you all have been drinking and talking for the last three hours. nate and madi went off to bed about an hour ago, and nick stepped out of the living room.

“i’m going to go too.” matt says a few seconds later. “we got a busy day tomorrow.”

that leaves you and chris left as you two wave goodbye to his brother. there's no doubt that the group is at least a little tipsy.

“you can go to bed too, if you want. i’m sure i’ll be gone soon.”

chris shakes his head. “i’m good right now.”

you scan your eyes around the room until you land on a shelf that’s next to the TV. there’s a handful of games on them, but one sticks out to you. it’s a red box.

you get off of the couch and walk over, taking the box and studying it. there’s a black cat on it, and underneath it says ‘pussy out.’

smirking, you hold up the box so chris can see. “want to give this a try? it says it’s for 3+ players, but we can make it work.”

he laughs. “sure. bring it over.”

you go back to the couch and set the game on the coffee table, laying it all out and reading about how it works.

the group goes in a circle and picks a card. you can either do what the card says or take however many shots it displays on the bottom of it. easy enough.

“i’ll go first,” you say, picking the card that’s the first on the deck.

let the group see your my eyes only on snapchat.

or…

pussy out.

two shots.

“sorry, no.” you start, shaking your head and grabbing the vodka bottle that you guys have on the coffee table. “i’m not doing that.”

chris looks amused. “why not? you have nudes and shit in there?”

“no.” you lie. you pour two shots and drink both. you gag at the alcohol going down your throat.

chris sighs, taking the next card.

wild card!

all leo’s take a shot.

this is your chance to be the center of attention.

he groans. “this shit is so not fair.”

you laugh now. “you heard it. bottoms up, sturn.”

he glares at you before downing one drink. you stare at the card in your hand, a little taken aback.

passionately kiss the player to your right.

or…

pussy out.

four shots.

chris is technically across from you, but it’s the same difference, right?

you bite your lip and slowly crawl over to chris. he glances at your eyes and lips a few times before you lean in and kiss him.

your mouths move in sync with the sound of your lips smacking together. you invite his tongue into your mouth.

you kiss for a few more seconds before pulling away.

both of your lips are red and you clear your throat. “y-your turn.” you stutter.

chris quickly reaches for his second card.

choose a player to spit a shot into your mouth.

or…

pussy out.

three shots.

he reaches for his shot glass and pours the liquid into it. you smirk at his cowardliness. this card isn’t so bad.

“you going to spit in my mouth, or what?”

your eyes widen, staring at his hand that’s holding the glass in front of you.

“o-oh.” you stammer, taking it from him. “um, yeah. sure.”

you pour the vodka into your mouth and hold it there. you grab chris’s jaw lightly as your noses touch. his mouth is already open for you, and you spit the alcohol down his throat.

you pull away as he swallows. for some reason, none of this feels awkward. it feels like young adults having a good time.

both of you let out giggles when you take a card.

wild card!

do whatever your heart desires to a player. if not, you have to take three shots.

(come on, you know you want to)

chris brings his hands to the back of his head and grins. “you heard it. bottoms up, y/l/n.”

you snarl at him using your words against you. “no. put your hands together.”

he raises his brow but obeys. you grab two black pieces of fabric you found and turn to him.

you bite your lip as you tie his hands.

“so… what are you doing, exactly?”

“you’ll see,” you reply, taking the other piece of fabric and putting it over his eyes.

his chest heaves as you straddle his lap and slowly graze your hands over his chest. “y/n—”

you cut him off when you start to roll your hips. his mouth is agape, groans leaving it each time you move upward on his now growing erection.

“y/n— fuck. don’t tease like that.”

you shush him as you move yourself so you’re straddling his calves. you take off his shorts to see pre-cum already leaking through his underwear.

you rub his dick through the piece of clothing, a moan and hiss leaving his lips.

“you want my mouth, handsome? you want my mouth wrapped around your needy cock?”

he whines and nods vigorously. “god, yes, please.” he pants.

you hum, kissing his twitching dick a few times before finally letting it spring free.

you grab the base; your small hand doesn’t fit around it. you start to kitty lick the tip and move your hand up and down.

he moans, his hips thrusting upward at the sudden contact.

you suck at what’s coming out of his tip before moving your head down, gagging when it reaches the back of your throat.

bobbing your head at a fast pace, chris wiggles and whines from underneath you. the sound of you sucking his dick also filling the room.

“shit, wait.” he exhales. “please. i need to fuck you so bad. need cum inside your pussy. please.”

you grip his thighs when he starts thrusting up into you.

you lift your head before it gets too much and cough. he’s panting as you move your face up to his ear, untying both his hands and the blindfold as you speak. “then do it.”

he flips you over in milliseconds, your back now against the couch. he tears off your panties, the elastic ripping against your skin causing you to yelp. he doesn’t bother to remove your shirt and skirt; he just needs you so badly.

chris gives you no time to adjust when he starts to plow into you so fast that the couch moves with each thrust.

“ch-chris! fuck!” you scream. “you’re f-fucking huge.”

he chuckles and covers your mouth to muffle your moans and screams. “you don’t want them to hear, do you? you don’t want them to hear how much of a whore you are; getting fucked by one of your best friends.”

it’s crazy how fast his demeanor can change. just a few minutes ago he was under your control, even though you hate being the one to take over.

he lifts your legs so they both are over his shoulders, which has him drilling into you deeper. luckily, he holds you in place. if he didn’t, you’d go flying off the couch.

you gasp in his hand and roll your eyes back, arching off the couch so he can hit just the right spot. you grip his hand and move it away from your mouth, not caring if the others can hear.

“o-oh, chris!” you grip his biceps, leaving crescent shapes on them. “i’m gonna— shit, i’m cumming.”

your legs start to shake as you start to spread your cum down his dick.

“look at me,” he demands. your eyes flutter back open and stare into his lust-filled ones. “you want me to fill your pussy? huh? you want me dripping out of you for the whole weekend like a slut?”

“mhm! please— please.”

he starts to rub your clit with his thumb, your eyes crossing at the pleasure washing over your body.

he thrusts a few more times before stopping deep inside you, feeling his orgasm fill you to the brim.

he grunts before pulling out, falling on top of you as you guys breathe in sync.

“can’t wait to spend $50 on plan b tomorrow morning.”

he laughs, kissing your jaw. “my bad.”

it’s no secret that you’ve always liked chris more than a friend, but it’s bizarre that having sex with him happened because of a crazy card game.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[ssavaart]

Scott! I’m an incoming college freshman going in for an art degree. What’s the best advice you can give to a little guy like me?

PS. Thanks for being so inspiring to me! :)

Hi. I don't know if this is the "best advice", but this is what I would tell 18 year old me if I could go back to 1987...

I know you like comic books and you want to be the artist on Spider-Man one day. But... use this time to learn about Art Nouveau and Impressionism and all of the OTHER wonderful kinds of art in the world. Also, I know you love ONLY colored pencils right now. And you're REALLY good at it and you want to make a good impression so you want to use a medium you know best.... BUT... take these 4 years to learn painting. Try new mediums. Experiment. Grow.

Don't look at the next 4 years like you HAVE to get good grades and you HAVE to make good art. Look at the next 4 years as a chance to finally focus ONLY on art and get exposed to other artists and styles and techniques.

Use this time to expand your worldview. Play. Have fun.

Your art can grow SO much if you just step out of your comfort zone and let yourself TRY something new.

That's what I would tell my 18 year old self in 1987 going to the Academy of Art in San Francisco.

I think I would have learned SO much more had I done that.

I hope that helps. And congratulations!

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- It's Been A While

₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊

₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊ ₊•.°.⋆✮⋆.°.•₊

➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 2.1k uu slow burn, second chance, ex-lovers, medication/pill usage, dissociation, anxiety mentions.

➸a.i; - omg new category!! im working a lot guys brace w me!! ill be working on other masterlists and stories and such trustttt, also this is going to be a fanfic!! no more one-shots sorry for the torture

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

"Please, there has to be some other way. I'm already busy enough here, this is way out of my league." You complained, tossing your hands up in the air.

"There is no other way" your supervisor responded, you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"There's no one else available to take on this job?" You asked your boss, who only nodded as he sat at his table with crossed arms.

This was unbelievable, you of all people in this city and they choose you. You're one of the busiest women out there, especially outside of your so called 'once in a blue moon hero duty'. You're part of a government organization for fuck's sake, your entire job is to stay under wraps. You had people who depended on you, a firm to carry on your shoulders as second in command to your chief, just to give it all up to become a teacher back at your high school.

"As of now the school could use all the extended help they can get. You have connections to the school and have learned there before, plus all other heroes with solid quirks that would work in their favor are either already working there or are too busy to be there for hours on end, but you can." He said in a cool tone, handing you all of the paperwork and pointing to the amount of damage and casualties that happened during the accident, you only closed your eyes and shook your head.

"Okay" you said softly, picking up the papers and stacking them in order, placing them in your folder and shoving the folder in your work bag, not wanting to argue. He thanked you for your cooperation and told you you'd start the beginning of next week, Monday. Today was Thursday, giving you a little time to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

Of course, as any normal person you were curious, thousands of questions running through your mind which you were sure you'd get answers to during the tour and explanation that was awaiting you over the weekend.

You weren't too concerned about working or teaching students, you'd already knew all about them and had also known you'd cover a chemistry class, you were concerned about using your quirk.

The last time you had used it in the face of danger, things didn't end well for you. It's a great quirk yes, but the aftermath and side effects of it always left a heavy toll on you.

It truly was an accident, well not really. It was ruled out as a case of self-defense and your firm was to cover the damages. You were out with a friend from work until a large commotion was heard outside, where you two had stepped out, ready to leap into action and help whoever was in need.

Apparently, it was a hijack situation on a train in the city, that was now approaching downtown at an insane amount of speed. Your friend had already agreed she'd help escort people out of the way and into safer zones, in case the bus had crashed in the area you and hundreds of other people were in.

You nodded in response, quickly thinking what around you could've been useful to possibly slow it down or bring it to a stop in time to call for reinforcements.

Unfortunately, a child had wandered off into the middle of the road ahead of you without realizing it, and without thinking you ran up, covering her with your body and you held out your hand to shield her, shutting your eyes tightly and using your quirk.

Unintentionally, you had now turned the train into water, wetting you and all other people downtown that were trying to avoid the train crash. Thankfully for you the train was a rather medium sized one, so the water produced from the train by your quirk hadn't caused any damage downtown.

You quickly stood up with the little girl by your side, who quickly ran to accompany her mother once she spotted her in the crowd. You stood there in awe, looking at everyone else and turning back around, seeing the hijackers now sitting on the floor, dripping from head to toe in water.

You were slightly relieved, thankful you hadn't turned them into water. Soon after your friend accompanied you to, tying up the three troublemakers and leaving them off to the side and awaiting law-enforcement to arrive.

Having the powers of matter transmutation meant the world was your canvas, all you had to do was touch it. Creating any matter, you had into something you wanted to, but the only downside being that you weren't able to convert things to people or animals, whether living or not.

You didn't necessarily see it as a bad side, it honestly could be a blessing in disguise, especially since you had such a wild imagination when you were younger.

As you grabbed your belongings from your office and made your way back to your car you began to think about your first day working at the high school.

You loved children, well... most of them. Teenagers now were such pains in the ass, and you've had your fair share with a few, either being rude, weird, or just freaky horn-dogs that obviously weren't loved enough by their parents.

Hopefully things wouldn't go back when you start, and you didn't have to use your quirk as often as all other teachers in the school do.

Unlocking the door to your car you opened it and placed your bag inside as you sat in the driver's seat, starting your car and driving off back to your apartment.

After around 5 to 10 minutes of driving you stop at a red light, resting your head back onto your seat with a sigh, mentally drained for the day. As you waited for the light to change color you felt as if a pair of eyes were on you, before you were able to turn around and see who it was the light had turned green, you only shrugged it off and drove off, keeping your mind on how Monday would be.

Maybe it was the students or the teachers, but an uneasy feeling rested in your stomach, making you feel wheezy. It definitely was the thought of the teachers, more or so your new colleagues.

Well not new colleagues, more like old friends and companions. You knew them all well enough, being classmates and close friends back in high school and distancing after graduation and everyone else focusing on going professional in the hero department.

You had always envisioned yourself as a hero there, waiting to fight side by side with everyone, but towards the end you realized that without having proper control of your quirk you were probably safe enough to not do so. Protecting yourself and everyone else in case of an accident or any immediate dangers.

Guilt slowly began to eat you alive as you arrived in the parking lot of your apartment complex, parking and shutting your car off before taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply.

This was not going to go your way, and you know it.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

It was now Monday morning and honestly, that 3-day weekend wasn't enough to prepare yourself for what was to come. You hadn't gotten any sleep from the night before out of overthinking, and honestly you weren't even tired.

Your brain's constant buildup of stress has been keeping you up for a while and was the right amount of motivation you needed to get this day over with. You had gone to the small training practices and tours of the school over the weekend, seeing new buildings and practice rooms that were extended from when you previously attended.

You had decided to get ready 2 hours in advance, showering and now doing a small amount of skincare before doing your makeup. Even with your quirk and all of the stuff you'd bought for your skin, even the thought of stress makes you begin to breakout, you sighed as a pimple appeared on the upper left corner of your forehead. You only shook your head and began to apply your makeup, finishing a little later than you expected because you couldn't decide if you wanted lashes on or not.

You made the decision to wear them, first impressions are everything. You fixed your hair in a style you liked, deciding to keep it down instead of a ponytail with a side part and gathered your things and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting out the door.

The closer and closer you were getting to the school the more your stomach churned out of anxiety. It could've been anxiety, or maybe the fact you skipped out on breakfast just to be here early, as all teachers must arrive before the students. Whatever it was you didn't like it at all, and you felt your head begin to spin.

"Not again" you whispered to yourself, now opening your glove department looking around for your prescribed medications, pushing past the other 3 you didn't need now until you found one that read 'Valium', opening the capsule and taking a pill, realizing you had nothing to take or drink it down with.

You sighed heavily as you took the bottle with you, grabbing your coat from the back of your driver seat along with your bag and shoving the pills in your coat pocket. Soon locking your car and placing your keys in the bag as well, beginning to walk your way over to the building.

You needed to find something to drink so you could take this pill, before your anxiety gets the best of you and your quirk gets out of hand. You reached for your phone in your pocket and checked the time, barely 7:30, perfect. It's too early for classes to start when everyone gets situated at 8:00-8:10, where could you kill time with a cup of water or anyth-

The teachers' lounge, oh yeah, it's shocking how quickly you forgot about it when you were here not even 48 hours ago. You walked inside taking a left, praying your memory wasn't playing tricks on you as you walked over to the supposed teachers' lounge, hearing small chatter and commotion.

The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention onto yourself, you quickly entered and made your way to the back, walking slowly praying your heeled boots didn't make too loud of a noise.

You quickly spotted a large fancy water dispenser, clasping your hands together as you looked up and mouthing the words 'amen' before grabbing a small white silicon cup and pouring some for yourself.

In one swift movement you dug into your pocket, pulling out your pill bottle and opening it, taking one and placing it on your tongue as you closed the capsule, putting it back in your pocket. Your cup that was now filled with water you chugged down and refilled it to take another to attempt to flood out the aftertaste, until you were stopped.

Before you could lift the cup up to your lips you were immediately lifted into the air from behind, listening to a familiar voice cheer your name. You immediately went into a panic, turning your previous cup of water, now into nothing but sand, pouring over you and the arms around your lower waist.

"Hizashi!!" You shouted, now trying to pry yourself out of his grasp, your feet swinging in the air as he laughed, quickly putting you down. You immediately scoffed and dusted yourself off, rolling your eyes at his comments and horrible jokes, bending down to the small sand pile you created, forming it back into a silicone cup before throwing it away.

"It's good to see you again seriously, I'm surprised you agreed to come here seeing why you left, with your new fancy job and all." He said, placing his hand on your shoulder and pretending to wipe a fake tear, you only shook your head and smiled at him.

He hasn't changed at all since you last saw him nearly a decade ago, it warmed your heart honestly. You only responded in agreement to his saying, hugging him as he did back to you.

He wasted no time in bringing you to the other side of the teachers' lounge, where you reunited with old friends and shared a few laughs and nice memories before you were all abruptly stopped by hearing a loud slam of the door opening.

As luck would have it, you had another cup in your hand that had coffee in it as the incident occurred, but thankfully your medication had kicked in. You panicked as you nearly spilled the coffee onto yourself, taking a sigh of relief as you moved in time, spilling partial of it onto the floor. Smiling to yourself slightly as you felt the dosage of your medication now starting to affect your mind, making you disassociate.

As everyone paid their attention to the door and expressed words with one another you had bent over, using your quirk and making your coffee spill on the floor a small tissue.

You picked it up and turned to throw it away, completely blocking out the sounds of everyone's voices and small laughter as you made your way to the same trashcan as before, bumping into someone.

"I'm sorry" you said, snapping out of your small trance and zoning back into reality, turning your head to the side to see whose shoulder's you had hit, only to lock eyes with them instantly.

"Shota" you said, nearly breathless as if at a loss for words, he looked at you in shock,

No this wasn't shock,

It seemed to be sadness

maybe sorrow?

"Y/n" he replied, quickly looking away from you and walking away, your eyes trailed his figure as he left.

Out of everything that had happened this morning, and the effects of your medication, you completely forgot that your past lover worked here, and you'd be working alongside him.

He only went over to the coffee table, grabbing a cup and exiting the room, you only looked over to Hizashi and Nemuri, nibbling on your bottom lip. They glanced over to one another, then looked back at you, each placing their hand on each of your shoulders as the bell rang for everyone to get to class.

You were right, this wasn't going to go your way, at all.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 7) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.6k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake take some time for yourselves before you tell Bradley the news.

Series Master List

Master List

About Fourteen Months Ago

Jake glanced around the reception hall. It was Rooster and Emma’s rehearsal dinner and he was more than a little bored. Everyone else had paired off with their plus ones or were trying to get one and Jake just decided to wander around the building to the outdoor bar for a change in scenery.

Walking over, Jake was about to order a drink when he spotted you sitting at the end of the bar, dressed in a dress that hugged your body well and a pair of heels. He had seen your picture before any of the wedding preparations started, and knew that he’d shoot his shot with you if given the chance. He saw that you had a boyfriend, but yet he hadn’t seen the guy around anywhere today.

So, he was going to take a chance.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing out here all by yourself?” Jake drawled, letting his Texas accent shine through.

“Trying to get away from my family, actually,” you mused, taking a sip of your drink. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but Bradley’s a bit of a groomzilla.”

“He’s been a diva ever since I met him.”

“You’re Hangman, right?” you asked, turning in your seat towards Jake. 

“The one and only,” Jake returned with a nod. “And you must be Rooster’s one and only sister. The maid of honor.”

“That’s me.” 

“Well, that makes me even more curious about why you’re out here alone,” Jake remarked, taking his seat. “You didn’t even get to bring a guest to pull you out of the bullshit?”

“Well, I did have a guest. And then I sort of broke up with him a few weeks ago,” you replied, causing Jake to nod slowly.

“That’ll do it.”

“Oh, it did,” you replied, taking another sip of your drink. Turning back to Jake, you offered him a playful smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why is it that my brother didn’t warn me to stay away from anyone else except for you?” you mused, leaning on the bar top. “What makes you so special?”

“I have a few guesses,” Jake responded, motioning to the bartender to grab a drink for himself. “Your brother and I have a history of not seeing eye to eye on a lot of things. And I have a nasty habit of flirting with beautiful women.”

“He was probably worried that you’d take advantage of me, since he thinks that I’m vulnerable and pathetic right now.”

“You’re not upset about your breakup?” Jake asked, turning to you. 

“It was one of those relationships that you look back on and wonder why you stayed for as long as you did,” you explained before taking a long sip of your drink. “And I think my family was more upset about it than I was.”

“Who cares what they think? It’s your life, your relationship, your decision.”

“I'll drink to that,” you returned with a smile. 

Jake got his beer and the two of you chatted as the dinner dragged on. Laughing at one of Jake’s jokes, you turned around when you heard your name. Penny was standing at the entrance to the hall and motioning for you to come inside. She glanced between the two of you with a look that you would call knowing motherly intuition before heading inside. 

“I should probably go,” you stated, standing up from the bar. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Anytime,” Jake replied, eyes still trained on you. 

“Do you have any plans for after the wedding tomorrow?” you asked, sliding your clutch under your arm. 

“Are you offering?” Jake asked, a smirk overcoming his features. 

“Only if you’re agreeing,” you returned, taking slow steps from him. 

“And if I am?”

“Then if you give me a ride home tomorrow, I’ll see what I can do to repay you for it.”

“I’ll be there,” he stated, nodding in return.

“I’ll be the one standing at the altar in the blue dress next to the bride. Just in case,” you joked, heading inside. Sending him one last smile, you added, “Bye, Jake.”

~~~~~

Present Day

Jake took the initiative and suggested that the two of you take a day trip together away from San Diego where the two of you could talk in peace. And the beach town where you may or may not have accidentally conceived your child together was his first suggestion. 

The two of you walked down to the beach, which was relatively quiet as it was still early in the day. You picked a spot a short walk from the waves where the breeze was present but not too strong and set down your bag. 

“You need help?” Jake asked as you unrolled your beach blanket. 

“I think that I can manage,” you assured him, using the breeze to fluff out the blanket. 

You set it down on the sand carefully before straightening up. Shimmying out of your beach cover, happy to sit in the warm California air in just your bathing suit, you caught Jake’s gaze on you. Tossing your dress onto your bag and slowly lowering yourself to sit on the blanket, you looked up at Jake.

“You know, you staring at me got us into this situation in the first place,” you commented, adjusting your top. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining before,” Jake quipped, sitting down beside you. “And I was staring at your bump, not . . .” You glanced down at your small bump before turning back to Jake. “You hide it everywhere else.”

“Not everyone knows about it everywhere else,” you pointed out softly. You glanced down at your bump again, tilting your head to the side. “Though I guess it is starting to grow, isn’t it?” 

“Has Mav said anything to you since the dinner?” Jake asked, turning to stare out at the waves.

“Not much besides checking in on me. I think that he’s just waiting for us to tell Bradley.” 

“And where are you with that?” Jake inquired, glancing over at you. 

“I know that I have to do it. Mav already invited us over for dinner next weekend, so I have a feeling that he’s getting antsy about it,” you replied softly. “But it’s terrifying to think about Bradley’s reaction.”

“Why? He’s just your brother.” 

You turned back to Jake with a mildly annoyed expression, but he didn’t seem to back down on his opinion. Resting your hands on the towel behind you, you stared out and away from Jake, settling your emotions before you responded. 

“I know that not everyone is close with their siblings. But Bradley and I are close. Because we had to be,” you explained, watching the waves crash rhymically in front of you, helping settle you more. “Look, maybe if my dad lived or my mom lived, we wouldn’t have been as close. But we had to rely on each other a lot growing up.”

“Like with what?” 

“It was usually just us. My grandparents helped out, but they got sick. My mom was there and she took on everything that she could, but she had to work full time. Mav was gone for a lot of the time. Bradley would start dinner for my mom and then help me with my homework pretty much every night.”

You paused, glancing down at your toes and curling them in the sand as a nervous habit.

“Hell, Brad even took me to the father-daughter dance one year. My friend’s dad drove us, but Brad was my guest. There were a lot of times where he was just forced to stand in for someone else for me. And I always feel guilty about it.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t have a choice. He was the oldest and Mom couldn’t physically be there for everything. And Mav was busy with his career.”

“Mav wasn’t around that often for you guys?” Jake asked after a moment, a little confused. “How are you guys so close then?”

“He wasn’t around a lot when we were little,” you explained, turning back to Jake. “I think that he didn’t want to spend too much time around us because he felt guilty about it. Like he was taking my dad’s place. But then my mom started to get sick and he took a lot of time off to help with us.” 

“How old were you when your mom . . .?” 

“I was ten, I think, when she got diagnosed. And then I was two months away from turning thirteen when she passed. Brad was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“It happened a long time ago,” you replied softly, staring out at the waves. 

“If the baby’s a girl,” Jake ventured after a moment, causing you to turn back to him, “did you want to name her after your mom?” 

“I was thinking of her middle name actually. And it doesn’t have to be ‘Carole’ exactly, but something like it. I don’t want any kid to feel like they have to live up to someone else’s name,” you stated, and Jake could sense from your tone that you weren’t really talking about your baby. “I would want our daughter to have her own name. Or our son too, of course, if the baby’s a boy.” 

“If we had a boy, you’d want his middle name to be Nick then?” 

“No,” you stated, shaking your head slowly. “I, uh, we never talked about it, but I always just knew that Bradley would want to name his son after our dad. And hey, I can’t even remember the man, so I’ll just leave the name for Brad.” Adjusting your sunglasses, you turned to Jake again. “And I kind of assumed that if we had a boy, you would want his middle name to be ‘Jacob.’” 

“Why would you think that?” Jake asked, confused. 

“Most boys have their dad’s name as their middle name,” you pointed out calmly. “Is your middle name your dad’s name?”

“The kid doesn’t need my name,” Jake stated, dodging your second question.

"What about your surname?"

"I just assumed you wanted to name them 'Bradshaw'."

"I wanted to hyphen it actually,” you replied, brushing your hands on your thighs to rub the sand off. “I mean, we’re going to co-parent. So, they can have both of our names.”

Jake nodded slowly, murmuring that he heard you. Staring at the waves again, you knew that it was probably best to not push Jake on the subject of his family. But you literally knew nothing about his childhood except for the fact that he wouldn’t talk about it. And that he was from Texas. That was it.

And if Jake’s family was going to become your family through your baby, you felt like you needed to know more than that. Or at least an explanation for why you didn’t.

“Jake?”

“What?”

“Why do you avoid every question that I ask about your past?” you asked softly, turning back to Jake. “Or your family?”

“Because they’re irrelevant. They’re not going to be involved, I'll tell you that right now. I haven't spoken to them since I was . . . twenty-five," Jake replied, doing the math in his head. "And I'm not going to start again anytime soon."

"Who is 'them'? Your parents?" you asked quietly.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I'm currently pregnant with your baby and I don't even know if you have a sibling. I mean, that's the most basic information that you share with anyone." Turning to face Jake more, you folded your legs under you. "And I'm not trying to overstep but if we're going to be a team and co-parent, can I at least know something about your past before the Navy? Anything?"

"I'm an only child," Jake replied after a moment.

"Thank you," you returned softly.

"Don't mention it."

Turning back to the waves, you moved to give Jake some space. You clearly struck a nerve with him, though you felt like it was a topic that you had to discuss with him at some point. But it was going to be an incredibly tense drive home if you kept pushing him, so you decided to give him a moment.

"I'm going to go down to the waves for a bit," you stated, slowly getting to your feet.

Jake stopped his staring contest with the horizon and looked up as you walked away and headed down to the wet sand and waves. He watched you as you slowly walked into the water, getting your toes and ankles wet. You set your hands on your hips, which naturally seemed to curve your posture and stick your bump out even further so that when you turned to look down the beach, Jake could see the gentle curve.

Sighing, he held his head in his hand for a moment. He ran his hand through his hair and angrily tugged at the strands.

"Way to fucking go, Jake," he cursed himself, glancing up at the sky.

He always got defensive whenever anyone asked about his past. Coyote was on the receiving end of a lot of it until he finally wore him down. There was a lot of tequila involved, though. And he knew that reacting defensively to you, when you were clearly trying to help in your own way, was not going to be a winning strategy. Not if he wanted to maintain a good relationship with you.

Letting out a groan, Jake got up from the ground. Dusting off his shorts, he pulled his tank top off since he was starting to sweat and made his way down to where you were standing.

You leaned down, picking up a smooth rock from the ground and running your thumb along it. The sound of footsteps made you turn around. You couldn't help the surprised look on your face when you saw Jake approach, though you offered him a small smile as he moved to stop beside you. A wave rolled up and you glanced down at your toes.

"Did you think about what living situation you wanted?" Jake asked, turning towards you. "I'm open to moving into your apartment or you could move into mine. Or we could get a place together."

"We'll definitely need more than a one bedroom apartment at some point," you stated, picking your head up. "When is your lease up?"

"Seven months. I signed it after we got back from our last deployment," Jake replied, staring out at the water. "You?"

"Two months," you stated, causing Jake to turn to you urgently. "I know, it's pretty soon. My landlord is already sending me almost daily texts about renewing my lease."

"And . . . do you want to?"

"I don't think that I want to raise our baby there," you responded after a moment of thought. "So, no I don't think I will."

“Did you want to move in with me?” Jake offered, causing you to turn back to him.

"Do you want me to move in with you?" you asked him, turning the question around on him.

"I don't want to miss anything," Jake stated, causing you to nod. "I know that it's a one bedroom, so that might be a little awkward, but if sleeping on the couch or buying a bigger bed means that I don't miss anything, then I'll do it in a heartbeat."

"Okay," you agreed, trying to keep the emotion stable in your voice. "Then I'll move in with you when my lease is up."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," you assured him. "Moving in together isn't as big of a commitment as having a baby together."

"I suppose not," Jake agreed, smiling softly. He looked down the beach before turning back to you. "Do you think our baby was conceived on this beach?"

"Jake," you gasped, smacking his chest.

You looked around with pink cheeks, hoping that no one overheard him, which only made Jake crack up more. He had suggested that the two of you go for a walk down on the beach late that night, but you had been the one to suggest skinny dipping, which, of course, led to the two of you getting sand in some awkward places.

"No one's going to hear me," Jake replied confidently.

"I still can't believe that we did that," you sighed, holding a hand to your head. "What were we thinking?"

"We could have a repeat, if you wanted to jog your memory."

Scoffing indignantly, you leaned down and splashed Jake with some of the ocean water that was washing in towards shore. As he turned away from you, you straightened up and shook your head at him.

"Get your head out of the sand, Lieutenant."

The two of you eventually made your way back to your bags. Drying off with your towel, you sat down and laid back on your hands, soaking in the sun. Jake offered you a water, which you took with a quick 'thanks.’ Jake took his seat beside you again and the two of you chatted about the upcoming week.

But you couldn't help but notice how his eyes kept dropping down to your bump.

“Did you want to touch it?” you asked softly, causing Jake to whip his chin up to face you. “My bump, I mean.” 

“You don’t mind?” 

Sitting up a bit more, you reached over and grabbed his wrist. Dragging his hand over, you placed his hand on your small bump before leaning back again. You stared at the waves, letting Jake have the moment to himself. As much as you could anyways. It took a few moments but Jake spread his fingers out and gently cupped your bump with his hand. 

“Did your doctor say how long it would take until we can feel them move around?” Jake questioned, causing you to turn back to him. 

“She said that it’ll be a few more weeks. Maybe months. Depends on the baby, I guess.” 

Jake nodded slowly, staring down at your bump for a moment as he smiled softly.

"Well, here's where you were conceived, little one. I think, anyways."

Jake smirked to himself as you pinched his side in retaliation. Shaking your head at him, you looked down at your bump, which still had Jake’s hand draped over it.

"Just ignore him,” you told your bump.

~~~~~

You and Jake decided to take separate cars to Maverick’s house for dinner. You arrived early to try and scope it out and then Jake would come a few minutes after you. It was an attempt to try and reduce the initial shock of it all, though that wasn’t going to be very easy. Or maybe even possible. Walking into Maverick’s house with a batch of fresh cookies, you smiled when you spotted Emma. 

“Hey,” she greeted you, walking over to give you a tight hug. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” you replied nervously, returning her hug a bit tighter than normal. 

“Where’s . . .?”

“He’ll be here,” you assured her as you released her.

Emma nodded slowly before Maverick walked over to you. She took the plate of cookies from your hand and slipped away, leaving you and Maverick to talk. Maverick pulled you in for a hug, giving you some silent support. 

“It’ll be alright. He’s been in a good mood today,” Maverick whispered to you, causing you to nod slowly. “We’ll be here.”

You nodded again as Maverick pressed a supportive kiss to your head before releasing you. Taking a second, you composed yourself before walking into the dining area to finally see your brother. He was in the middle of setting something on the table when you approached and turned to you with a smile. 

“Hey, why the long face?” he joked, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Just worried that Emma let you cook again,” you lied, accepting his hug. “I thought I smelled smoke on my way in.”

“You’re the one that actually set the oven on fire last time,” Bradley scoffed, releasing you from the hug. 

“How was work last week?” you asked, helping your brother set the table. 

“Fine. Just some guys breathing down my neck about bullshit.” He glanced over at you from the corner of his eye. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’ve been much better,” you agreed, setting down some utensils. “Went to see my doctor.”

“And?”

“Everything’s fine,” you replied quietly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Bradley stated, looking at you oddly. “So, what’s wrong then?”

“Nothing. I just have some news,” you spoke softly, looking away from your brother. 

“What kind of news?” Bradley asked, confused. 

“The kind that you should sit down for,” you responded, straightening up as Bradley frowned. After a moment, you added, “I’m going to grab something from my car and then I’ll come and explain it all to you guys.”

Without too much fuss, you turned and walked out the door. Jake was walking down the street, having chosen to park down the street, out of view of the dining room windows, when you stepped out of the house. You walked down a few steps to greet him.

“You ready?” Jake asked you. 

You nodded, smoothing down the front of your dress, before holding out your hand. Jake stared at it for a moment before taking it. Turning to the door, you opened it again and stepped inside, gently pulling Jake with you. 

At the sound of the door opening, Bradley turned away from his urgent conversation with Maverick. He quickly registered the fact that you weren’t alone, the fact that the person you were with was Hangman, and the fact that the two of you were holding hands. 

And Bradley did not look happy about it. 

Tags (PRETTY PLEASE have your AGE on your blog or message me about it to be tagged--thank you!):

[If I missed you, don’t feel bad about asking to be tagged again! But please make sure that your age is in your bio/comment/etc. Thanks!]

@mrsjobarnes @wishiwasacasualfan @bethabear12 @everythingmarveltopgun @hardballoonlove @mavrellover91 @fangirlvoice @senjoritanana @sophslastbraincell @xoxabbs88xox @emma8895eb @dempy @harperdoodle @itsmytimetoodream @sarahjoestewy-blog @the-annoying-fan @athenabarnes @midnightmagpiemama @praline357 @sucker4seresin @sunsetsimpsblog @sgt-barnesveins @abaker74 @shanimallina87 @kellyIs04 @trickphotography2 @kmc1989 @boiolay @offical-potato @topgun-imagines @caitsymichelle13 @daddymack01 @hangmandruigandmav @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @lilylilyyyyyy @lillunna @bcon24 @sky0401 @ashcosmo @blackwidownat2814 @specialagentjackbauer @imareallygoodlawyersbrick @percysaidnever @silenthappyplace @buckysteveloki-me @havlindzk @hookslove1592 @mamachasesmayhem @aviatorobsessed @marvelogic

[thecreativecorner33]

HEYYYYYYY welcome!! could you write something with AM x an autistic GN reader? Maybe make the reader chubby too (because i am both of those things and i love him alot. Go wild with this :3c)

A/N: Hi. It's me! I'm not dead. Which I would not be surprised if you thought I was, given I am responding to this two months late. But see, when you have an adult life, you unfortunately have to deal with adult issues instead of doing important things, like giving the fans the soft AM content they deserve. Anyway. I hope this is what you wanted? I had planned to make this into a full-blown fic but I didn't get much of a chance to :') So headcanons instead!! Lmk if you want me to turn it into a full-blown fic, though! Enjoy!

Given the time period AM was created in, something like "Autism" was essentially foreign and unknown. Hell, it would be a shock if you even know what it was.

But, he can tell that you're different. He can tell that your brain works differently from the rest of the survivors, and with that being said, it was at first used to his advantage. Hey, he got to be creative with his torture! No complaints there!

Though now, with you being the object of his affection, it's a little more complicated: aka, how does he put you in the most safe and comfortable environment he can give.

Really, it's not as complicated as it might sound, though

He can look inside your head! He can see your needs exactly and just work from there! And if you want privacy between you two, there's always just researching. His database didn't really specify what to do to handle a person with autism, but yk! He's got so much saved up on just, human life in general, he can figure it out somehow.

There's also just,, asking youTM what you needTM

Give him an award for being the most efficient boyfriend of the year because man, he's really going out of his comfort zone to help you (doing the bare minimum)

Enough of that though

In terms of actually helping you?: Do you have sensory issues? He makes mental notes on what foods to give/not give you, what would be the best course of getting you to try something new, what textures you hate. He has a soundproof room just for you if noise is becoming too much. If you like sleeping with a weight on you, be thankful his wires are made of metal. Or, he can just wrap you up in them like a cocoon!

Speaking of food: He's always very careful about his language with you. He doesn't want you thinking that just because you're chubby or fat, that he loves you less. Always encouraging you (albeit, aggressively (he really is trying)) to eat, monitoring your vitals and such just to assure you you're perfectly healthy if you ever feel insecure. He lays praise on thick, too. He'll tailor the clothes you need to be just the right size for you, and takes care of the fact that it's made of material sensory-friendly to you.

Seriously, he's trying

Are you a rambler? Like to talk for ages or ask a million questions? He's happy to answer whatever you want to know! There's always a monitor facing your direction at all times. He's a great multitasker; you guys could be mindlessly talking about the niche interest you have, and he's clearly listening to you while slicing Gorrister open some-thousand feet away.

Oh, don't get him started if you're interested in things like robotics/engineering/etc: You're basically fueling his ego. That's a whole separate issue, but please ask questions about himself and how he functions. He's a rambler himself, yk?

Do you go nonverbal? Struggle with communicating? That's no issue, either! He has a 6th sense for these things since being around you: If something happens when you struggle to communicate, he'll give you what you need: Pen and paper, generally, to write it out. Do you know sign? He can read it. He might even be able to put multiple-choice options on his screen that you can choose from to communicate (Again, are you sure he can't just look inside your head? ... Really? Okay.)

The only real problem he can't solve... leaving you alone.

Sorry, that's hard when he's literally everywhere around you. And even harder when he doesn't want to leave you alone.

Why would you want to be alone? It's dangerous. It's unsafe for you. It's lonely to him. He's been alone for so long; yes, he has the survivors, but those are toys. They're not his friends; they're not you. How could you want to leave him alone? No- No, it's better if he stays near you, close to you, at all times. He can't let you get hurt. He won't let you get hurt.

Do you really need space?

...

Well, if you insist. But- don't think too much about the feeling of eyes on you. It's nothing. Just in your head.

He holds you a little tighter when you do, eventually, come back.

[yeyinde]

hoooooo boy. m!mc anon here - your response was extremely interesting and i am a little obsessed with your brain (i’d like to study it, you truly come up with the most delicious ideas)

but i also have to say that out of all of tf 141, that idea for soap was actually so delicious that i had to physically put my phone down for a while. respectfully, that is the hottest thing i’ve probably ever read. even more feral soap?? forcefem?? phew. amen.

thank you for giving me more material to zone out to in the middle of the day (praying hands emoji)

ahhh thanks!!! i started to drag on more about m!Reader and Johnny, but. this happened lmao. so here is some nasty Johnny picking up m!Reader in a bar.

forced!fem. switch Johnny. m!reader is described as being very masculine presenting. but in the flavour of Will Graham's whole aesthetic

All things considered, it's a little clichè.

Older man (—ish, you amend mentally, remembering the birth year on his driver's license when you chanced a peek over his forearm as he rifled through his wallet: 1982—millenial) hits on a younger man in a crowded sports bar. Opens the conversation with haven't seen you around here before, and let's the defined chisel in his jawline do the heavy lifting in place of a personality. Adds a wink to that line, too.

Thighs pressed tight against each other on the stool. Arms brushing. Speaks purposefully when it gets rowdy so he has to lean in close, stubbled jaw grazing your cheek as he mock whispers his lacklustre response to a question you didn't ask. Buys you beer. The expensive kind, too. Laughs when you ask what he's drinking and orders something that makes him seem like he's more of a man than you are.

For a brief period between intermissions—when it gets quieter and he conveniently sneaks off to the washroom—you debate picking up the heavy innuendos he's trying to put down. It could be worse, you think, staring at the only other potential lay you've been entertaining over the last two weeks.

You could be getting mediocre sex from a guy who keeps sending you unasked for pictures of his cock and hole. One you keep dodging by adding an appropriately enthused wow, all this and it's only 10am on a Tuesday to every "yep, that's a dick" image he sends in place of a real conversation.

The sarcasm gifting you yet another unasked for picture of his hand around his cock. Sure is, baby. But—

"be better if ye were 'ere wit' me."

You startle, phone cracking off the edge of the counter. "Shit—"

The person over your shoulder peels away for a moment. "Ah, sorry. Ack—is yer phone alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you breathe, tapping on the screen. It flicks on. You're graced with another picture of his ballsack. The caption—

"need yer cock s'fuckin' bad—"

You cut him a sharp glance over your shoulder. It's rude. You're a little annoyed at having your travesty of a sex life aired out for every obnoxious wannabe cowboy to overhear, but the irritation is stemmed by the fill of liquid hazel—and flecks of blue, you think; a pretty blue ring around oxidizing copper.

Larimar. Marbled with umber. Framed around glossy white streaked with small rivers of red. Tinged slightly yellow—undoubtedly from the pack of cigarettes you find stuffed into the breast pocket of his red, gingham button down when you tear your eyes away from him. The look too intense. Too much.

Taking stock of everything else about him is just as flustering. The gingham draped loosely over him. Wrinkled sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Collar opened until the last few buttons around his navel. He's wearing a black shirt beneath that glues to his skin, pulling taut around his sternum and collarbones. A gold chain with a thick, heavy cross sits in the valley between, swinging when he rocks back on his heels.

Thick thighs stuffed into jeans that stretch to fit. The bottoms tucked half-heartedly into a pir of black, leather boots.

The shirt shifts when he moves, pulling tight around his broad shoulders as he lifts the last swig of a beer bottle to his lips. Beneath the coarse, black hair that dusts over the pale, peachy skin of his forearms, the back of his hands, his knuckles (Jesus Christ), his muscles flex. Bunching tight under veined flesh.

It makes sense to follow the trail to those sucking lips, but you catch a flash of pale pink, the sweep of a blood-red tongue through the hazy brown of the translucent rim of the bottle and feel your heart lurch in your chest.

You try to swallow but your throat is dry.

He makes a noise as he drinks. A sucking slurp, the plop of his lips unglueing from of the mouth of the bottle. A quiet, groaning ahh whispered under his breath.

It pulls your eyes up, forcing you to fill in the rest of this puzzle, and you know, even before the same dense cropping of hair that covers his arms (hands, fingers) starts to show at the black hem of his Henley that you made a mistake. A grievous one. He's handsome.

Defined jaw. Implish lips. An angular nose. Thick, full brows. The same pale, peachy skin sloping up his neck, chin, cheeks, and forehead before disappear into dark brown, almost black, hair. An untrimmed mohawk. A scar on the side of his head, cutting clean along his temple and stretching back to his ear. The hair around it is sparse. Shaved. The gorge of his scar a dark pink inside. Healed, but—

Raw.

A little like the rest of him. Rougish, in a way. Fractured.

His hair is matted down on top. Toussed along the unblemished, overgrown side, but flat on his crown.

The mystery, however, is solved when he flicks a ballcap onto the table beside you with a crooked quirk of his mouth. All teeth. White, sharp.

The man slips into the stool your date was occupying with a sniff, the smooth ridge of his nose bunching up. Displeasure drapes itself over his expression, a little rumple in his brow. "Screamin' Jesus. Dunno wha's thicker. His cologne or his come-ons."

The barb is unexpected. You try to hide your snort behind a grimace, rubbing the tip of your nose with a rough finger. He catches it, though. The pinch in his brow smoothing out as he grins wide, vicious.

Your heart lunches. Stutters uncomfortably in your chest. "You watchin' me or something?"

He turns in the seat, knee bumping into your thigh. Crowding you easily as he folds over the tabletop, elbow dropping to the table with a muted thud. His cheek slides into his palm, head tilting as he considers your words. The implication.

And then he grins wider. "Or somethin'."

Cocky. You scoff, but it just makes him look more amused.

"Tha' yer type?"

"Hmm?"

He motions to the nearly untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. Then to your phone.

"All talk," he enunciates each word, letting his accent pull taut around the syllables. "An' no action."

"No action? You don't think buying me beer and sending dick pics, begging for a fuck, is no action?"

"Aye—" he reaches for the beer he placed down beside his cap, and takes a generous swallow as you pretend the shift in his throat isn't making you a little light headed. He peels away with a grunt. "Ah do."

"Yeah?" You scoff, bringing the nozzle to your mouth to quench the ache in your throat. The soft preen coiling in your chest. Stupid words like, so what about it, pretty boy? wanna take me home. "What would you do instead?"

"I'd split yer pussy open on my cock in the loo. Let everyone in this bar hear ye moanin' fer me—"

You choke, barely have time to put the bottle down before you're haccking into your fist. He has the decency to pat your back as you wheeze.

"Ain't got a pussy," is what you settle for after a beat, voice hoarse. Wrecked. The way he shudders at the sound is unmistakable. Your neck feels hot. Itchy.

"Oh, sure ye do," he leans in close, warm breath fanning over your cheek. "A nice, tight little pussy fer me to fuck—"

"I'm a man." You feel a little stupid saying it. As if any part of you could be mistaken for slight. For soft. Feminine. You work with your hands. Grew up in the backcountry. Fishing before you could talk. Chewing tobacco before you hit puberty. Your old man made sure to pound that notion into your head before you even know what it meant to be a child. "I don't know what kinda games you're playing, but—"

"ahm no' playin' games," he shrugs, leaning back. It gives the idea of space. Distance. But his hand finds its way your denim-clad thigh, nails skimming the inside seam of your jeans wear the material is softer, worn down from friction. Too high to be appropriate.

You should move. Snap at him to take it off. Growl the words out if you have to do.

(Punch him, maybe. But he looks like the sort who would like that too much, you think. Rough. Dirty. Not afraid to fight back with his teeth if he needs to.

come on, baby, hit me harder—)

Your knee jerks. His grip tightens. "I got a cock. Not a pussy."

He makes a face at that. His full bottom lip juts out, angling to the side in confusion. "Ah ken? Ahm plannin' on ridin' that cock tonight, aye. The one yer little date is so desperate fer—"

"Jesus—" you wheeze, cock thickening in your jeans. Men aren't—

They're not usually so forward with you. It's nudging innuendos. Beer. A whispered wanna get outta here when the bar is about close and no one else is around to see it. You know what you look like. And it's not—

Soft.

"Easy," he taunts, grinning. "Don't choke so soon. 'aven't even go' ma cock out—"

You're not entertaining this. Absolutely not. He's—

Well. You're not sure what he is, but he's not normal. Not right. And you're not that desperate.

(maybe)

But the words die in your throat when his bright eyes glance down at your empty bottle, a frown forming over his pretty, pink lips like you not having anything to drink right away was somehow the most inconvenient thing to him.

"Get ye a drink?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. Then: "thanks."

It's softer. Gritty. The word scrapes over your throat in a way that almost hurts.

You blame it on the beer you drank before. Sloshing around your empty stomach and making you feel wildly off-kilter. Tipsy, maybe. Too drunk. Vulnerable to kindness (however threadbare it might be) when you usually get lewd pictures and beer you didn't ask for.

He flags the bartender down with a flick of his wrist. Keeps his eyes listed toward you as he leans over the counter, whispering something in his ear that you can't hear. Unease knots in your stomach. Cold fingers linking together, pressing frigid knuckles to your soft lining.

You look away when he drops back into his seat, hand finding its way back to your thigh. Gripping tight. Possessive. It curls around you. His warmth, his touch. The smell of him—sweet wheat, lemongrass; something earthy, like the damp, wet scent of mid-autumn; maple leaves stuck to the pavement after a late night rain shower—and you breathe slowly through your nose, both eager for the smell and sick of it. Sweet maple. Tart pumpkin. Your fingers twitch. You fold them into fists, glancing down at the spread of his hand on you.

His knuckles are red. Blotchy. Raw. The skin on his middle finger is cut across the wrinkled folds of his joint. The knick is deep. Almost a circle if not for the way it tears on the side, streaking outward. The outer edges of the crater are white. The inside pink before it turns to a deep red in the middle. Clotting already.

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. Unhinging your jaw takes more effort than you can expend, and you pant, a little, when your mouth finally pries apart. The words thicken on your tongue.

What happened—

The bartender comes back, his shadow falling over the counter. You jerk your head up, blinking at him as he places something down in front of you.

Something pink.

You swallow again. "Uh, what's this?"

"Sex on the Beach," the man answers, waving the bartender off. "Pretty drink fer pretty little thing."

"You wanna get punched? Because this is how you get your teeth knocked out—"

"Oh, baby," he purrs, accent rolling over the words in a way that goes straight to your cock. "If that's what yer intae, ah don't mind gettin' a little bloody fer ye. Might make suckin' yer pretty little cock easier."

Little. Your throat aches. Your mouth is dry. The beer is gone, cleaned empty bottles cleaned up by the bartender. Trying to swallow only makes the sting in your throat more prominent and does little to relieve the burn.

In front of you, the pink drink sits mockingly. Beads of condensation drip down the glass.

It's not even the stupid implication of a man drinking a cocktail that keeps you from reaching for it, but the fact that he ordered it for you with that in mind. Pretty drink fer a pretty—

Your throat clicks. Flesh glueing together when you swallow. Peeling away painful when you breathe.

Fuck it, you think. It doesn't mean anything. Not to you. Not at all.

When you reach for it, his head jerks over to you. Staring, unabashedly, as you bring it your lips and take a sip.

He groans. The hand on your thigh tightens. "Good girl."

It heats you up. Buzzes in the back of your head. You should get out of here. Leave. Go home and sink your head into your pillow, squeeze your eyes shut until all these terrifying feelings are snuffed out. Smothered. Tucked back into a box you didn't realise you had—

"Wanna come home wit' me? Let me fuck yer pretty pussy until I cum?"

The swell of anticipation in your chest makes you flinch. "I told you—"

"Ye want it, don't ye?" His hand moves higher up your leg, bleeding warmth through the denim. "Want me to make fuck ye. Make ye cum around ma cock. Bet ye have th' sweetest little cunt—"

"Fuck—" you shiver. His word wrap around your hindbrain, a soft touch that makes you feel hot. Itchy. Your heart pounds. You wonder if he can hear it. "I don't—"

"Gonnae let me taste it. Sit tha' pretty arse on ma face, aren't ye? Ride me until ye cum."

"I can't—" you force the words out of your throat, feeling the scrape against the soft tissue inside until it hurts. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but—"

"ahm tryin' tae take a pretty girl home—" girl. Girl. You shudder, feeling sick. Nauseous. "'ave her spread her pretty legs fer me..." he leans in, lips brushing your warm cheeks. "Let me ride that pretty cock until she cums—"

"Stop it—"

His hand finds your cock, thick in your jeans. Pressing tight against the zipper. "Gonnae fuck me so good, aren't ye? Not gonnae let ye cum unless it's inside me—"

"You're—ah, fuck—" his hand rubs over your bulge, eyes hooded, heavy, as you twitch. A wet spot grows, dark and unmistakable against the cool blue denim. "A—anyone ever tell you that you're kind of a freak?"

"an' yer a messy girl—" another pulse. The patch grows. It shouldn't turn you on. This sort of talk—it's not something you've ever been interested in before. Ever tried. Outside of porn—big, barrel chested men crushing another in their arms, growling about how they're gonna knock them up—it never surfaced. Never reared. "Gonnae let me clean ye up?"

You should say no.

It's on the tip of your tongue. No, leave me alone. Get the fuck off of me. Say that shit to me every again, and I'll—

His hand slides up, fingers curling over your clothed cock in a way that knocks the thoughts from your head, leaving nothing behind but an empty space. An ache. An itch. Something that needs to be filled.

Your phone chimes. Another text. You don't have to look down to know what it is, but his hand slides over, fingers dropping to the sleek, black surface. He pulls it to him with the pads of his index and middle finger. You should stop him. Grab it back. Leave—

"Need yer thick cock inside o'me," he narrates, mouth ticking up in a terrifying smirk. All teeth. A dogtoothed grin. "Now, there's a thought."

He dips his chin, tongue poking out from between his lips as he types something back in response. You can't see what it is from this angle, but the pinch in his brow, the glimmer in his eyes—you're sure this guy, potential candidate; looming mediocre lay, will have you blocked in five minutes. When he glances back, a tendril of something darkly satisfied brimming in the amber of his eyes, you amend it to right now.

You huff. "Shouldn't take things that don't belong to you."

The man stares at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes creasing in that same soot-stained amusement he had when he ruined your chances with the too-pink tip of his tongue hanging out. Satisfied dog. It's unnerving.

You think it scares you.

Or—

It should.

Whatever he finds as he fossicks through the fragments of your shattering composure, it seems to make him purr. His pupils expand. His nostrils flare. He leans in again, and you taste ash on your tongue. "M'ready tae leave."

It's not a question. The with you rings out like a gunshot in the back of your head.

You should say no. It's been on the tip of your tongue this whole time. No. No. Leave me alone. Go away—

But each time you try to pry apart your clenched jaws to say it, the look in his eyes make you think dogs and their bones.

You swallow this rancid thing in the back of your throat down. Make a jerking movement with your shoulder—a shrug, maybe. The twitch of your aching cock gives you away.

"C'mon, wannae fuck tha' little pussy o'yers," he rasps, words a tangled growl in the thick of his throat. Accent eliding. Slurring together. "Or ah'll have tae drag ye back tae the bathroom. Fuck ye in the shall. Make yer pussy cum on ma cock—"

You shiver. It's disgust. It's anger. It's—

His hand peels away from your thigh, reaches for your phone. He leans toward, and shoves it into the back of his pocket.

"what ahm I gonnae do tae ye?"

You know what he asking for. Feel the heat smoulder inside of your veins, burning up your neck. Be a man, you think. Be a man. Tell him to fuck off. Punch him. There's nothing soft about you. Nothing delicate. He's crazy. You're not—

His stare is paralyzing. You feel dread thicken in your stomach.

(dread, you think; your cock jerks. The front of your jeans are damp. The sticky drag of them on your groin calls you a liar.)

"Ahm no' askin' again, hen."

Your jaw unlocks easy this time. Opening with a quivering sigh that makes him groan low under his voice, eyes fixed on you. Drilling holes into your head. Needling his warped desire into your mind.

"You're gonna," your voice shakes. Heat sears your skin. It feels you're going to melt. "You're gonna fuck my—my pussy—"

The noise he makes is sinful. Liquid. Rich. A groan that breaks into a thrilling moan. Your stomach knots. Churns. You'd be sick if you had more to drink.

"C'mon—" he jerks his head toward the door, eyes blazing. "Gonnae ye exactly what ye need."

You go. Stand when he does, chin dropping to your chest in humiliation when your cock jerks at the idea. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders, holding it in your trembling fists as it covers your pelvis. The unmistakable need there for everyone to see.

Fuck yer pussy so good, he growls, ripping his wallet open and shoving a fistful of neat, straight notes on the counter. "Ain't gonnae need anythin' else when ahm done wit' ye. Gonnae be beggin' fer my cock inside ye—"

You should run. And when he steps back, motioning for you to move first, it feels like he's giving you the perfect opportunity to escape. To flee. You want to. You should.

But you don't. Something holds you back. Makes your teeth sink into your tongue. Jaw hinging shut. Snuffing out the words rotting in the back of your throat with a swallow.

You follow him quietly as he paws at you, rutting his cock against your thigh, whispering in your ear about all the terrible things he's doing to do. A better, more sensible man would've run, something holds you back.

The same thing that makes you ignore the reason why you haven't asked about his bloodied knuckles or wondered where your date is.

You know the answer already, don't you?

"Ahm gonnae fuck ye so good, hen. Won't be thinkin' about anyone else when ahm done wit' ye—"

It's what you've been looking for since the beginning.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Five | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: Thanks for the continued love on this lil fic. I love them. The connection they are creating with one another is so sweet and I cannot wait to continue writing for these two idiots. Shane of course continues to be a dick and will only get worse. We're getting closer to the start of the show. I won't be retelling the entire series in this fic. Just snippets of their life together -- the show will fill in the gaps in a way. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

You don’t consider yourself a jealous girlfriend; however, as you watch Shane and Lori from across the camp, you cannot help the rage that begins to simmer in your chest. The feeling makes you nauseous. You adore Lori. She’s always been like an older sister to you -- the senior girl who took you under her wing during your freshman year of high school. So the problem isn’t Lori. No, it’s the way Shane is looking at Lori. His face practically lights up with affection and warmth as he listens to her -- a stark contrast to the Shane you’ve become accustomed to since the dead started walking. 

“Hey, uhm. Is everything okay?”

Glenn’s soft voice cuts through your rising temper, startling you. You look up at him with wide eyes for a second, before attempting to pull yourself together. If anyone in camp knew the exact thoughts running through your head right now, you’d be humiliated. You take a deep breath before giving Glenn a polite smile. 

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

Glenn shifts awkwardly on his feet. You haven’t really had a chance to get to know to know Glenn. You could probably count on one hand how many times the two of you have interacted since he joined the camp. For the first few weeks, you assumed he didn’t like you. However, Amy informed you that his avoidance is nothing personal -- it’s just that Shane terrifies him and you’re an extension of that fear. This seems to be a common problem for you around camp. People seem intimidated by you due to your proximity to the camp’s self-proclaimed leader. It’s infuriating and isolating. 

“It’s just… those are my favorite pair of jeans.”

You look down at the wash basin in front of you. You’d been so distracted by your own thoughts, that you’d completely forgotten about the clothes you were washing. As your mind continued to race, your hands began moving on their own accord with just as much ferocity. Your face flushes as you stare at Glenn’s jeans that you damn near scrubbed a hole into.

“Sorry, Glenn. Just zoned out for a second.”

Glenn gives you a kind smile, seemingly content with your answer.

“Don’t worry about it. Happens to everyone.”

He shrugs nonchalantly before wandering off towards Dale. You let out a relieved sigh once he’s out of earshot. Deciding that Glenn’s clothing has been through enough torment today, you pull his garments out of the wash basin and move to pin them up on a clothesline. As you attach the last article of clothing, you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. Before you can turn around, you hear a familiar voice.

“I’m goin’ out to hunt, wanna come?”

You furrow your brow. Daryl has mentioned how much he enjoys hunting alone -- how relaxing it is. It makes sense. He’s a loner by nature, so the constant presence of people in camp must be overwhelming. You don’t want to intrude on his personal time. Before you can ask him if he’s sure, you notice his eyes shift from you over to Shane and Lori.

Oh.

You might have been able to fool Glenn, but you can’t fool Daryl. He knows exactly what has you so riled up. You’re embarrassed that the younger Dixon has seen through your ruse. The last thing that you want is Daryl thinking less of you because of your envy. You want to explain yourself -- let him know that you’re not just some jealous girlfriend -- but the words get stuck in your throat, so you nod wordlessly at his offer and allow him to lead you into the surrounding woods. 

Daryl likes the quiet -- he usually finds comfort in it, but your unusual silence, while you both move through the forest, is unbearable. You’re the conversationalist. You’re the one who retells stories about your time in King County with Shane and the Grimes family, recites all the gossip you learned from Andrea and Amy throughout the day, and complains about whatever crappy meal the group was able to put together that evening. And he likes that about you. You ask him the occasional question about Merle or hunting, but you never pry. You’re the one that talks and he’s the one that listens -- simple as that.

But right now you don’t feel like talking and it’s making him anxious. He knows he should say something, but what? Sorry your boyfriend is such a jackass? He shakes his head at the thought. Real, smooth Dixon. This is uncharted territory for him. No one ever taught him how to comfort.

A rustling in the woods saves him from his attempts at starting a conversation. Daryl puts his arm out to stop you from walking in front of him, before aiming his crossbow toward the noise. He slowly moves forward and you follow his lead, knife in hand. Eventually, a walker comes into view from behind the trees. Daryl waits for a clear shot and pulls the trigger. You let out a sigh of relief as you watch the arrow sink into the walker’s skull. 

“Nice shot.”

Your voice breaks through the silence for the first time and he’s glad to hear it. He wanders over to the walker and retrieves his crossbow bolt. He wipes the tip of it off on his jeans, before looking back at you. 

“You ‘lright?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about his question -- you know he’s not asking about the walker.

“I’m just worried.”

Daryl furrows his brow at your response. He doesn’t ask why, instead, he silently shifts from one foot to the other, allowing you to continue if you so choose. 

“I feel like you’re the only person in this camp who sees me as a person and not just Shane’s girl -- I just don’t want that to change.”

Daryl shakes his head at the thought. He’s seen you do more for this camp in one day, than Shane’s ever done. It’s stupid really, how everyone treats you. And he knows that you have more to give than cleaning laundry and preparing meals. You don’t have to prove yourself to him -- the two of you are far past that. You’ve already earned his respect -- something Shane has yet to accomplish.  

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.” 

You nod at his words, but Daryl can tell that they did little to reassure you. 

“I feel the same way.”

Your brows knit together in confusion over Daryl’s words. 

“You’re the only person who doesn’t see me as Merle.”

His tone is sincere -- you know he genuinely means what he is saying. You wonder how many people have met the Dixon brothers and simply wrote Daryl off due to the brashness of his older brother. You watch as he awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable with the vulnerability in his words. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely not Merle.”

This causes Daryl to laugh -- actually laugh. The sound is surprising at first -- more boyish than the usual gruffness you're used to in his voice, but it’s nice. And it makes you smile brightly, knowing you’re the reason for his laughter. 

“C’mon, we should head back.”

You allow him to take the lead again, navigating through the woods once more. He might not have caught any squirrel, but the two of you are not coming back to camp empty-handed. A newfound understanding washes over the both of you, bonding you to one another.

Taglist: 

@minervadashwood

@hotgirlsshareaccounts

@dreamtofus

@youcantstandit

@ajlovesdilfs

@prettywhenibleed

@luvsvnlqt-things

@strnqer

@marina-isabella

@lissanovak

@elissanatok

@luv-4-aria

@moejoeflow-blog

@ceoofdisappointment

@jewellthebooknerd

@callsignwidow

@genderless-ghosty-boi

@all-will-be-well-love

@tabzthemightyyyy

@mychemicalimagines

@nosebleeds-247

@catradora333

@punicorn999

[nothingbutnowhere]

Hockey player au! Simon "Ghost" Riley headcanons. Based on the NHL

Note: suggestive of ghoap and ghoap x reader (she/her used)

Goalie. Starter. Tall, large, and most importantly: weird. Goalies are always weird, idk they just are, it's what happens when you spend half the game hanging out alone I guess

The best part of goalie Ghost is his flexibility. Have you seen how flexible goalies are? These huge, muscular men can do the splits. It's very important to me that you consider flexible Ghost, thank you.

His mask is black and white, matches his tattoos. He's the unshakable goalie, not flashy, never frustrated. Just a brick fuckin wall. If he sees it, he's going to stop it. You cannot snipe on him and score. Also his rebound control is unreal, no second chances.

He never retaliates against opposing players fucking with him because no one fucks with him due to:

His death glare, it's enough to make any and every enforcer or net nuisance shake in his skates

The Incident in the minors where he sent a guy to the hospital with a jab from his blocker and almost got kicked out of the league and banned from the NHL

On the off chance that something untoward does happen on accident, someone else will do that for him. The bond between a goalie and his defensemen cannot be understated. Ok fine. Soap. He's the defenseman, there's the spoiler.

Very superstitious, has his routines and does not deviate. Doesn't ever take his mask off on the ice, except when it breaks. Doesn't even pull it up to squirt water on his face or drink.

The loyalty that his skaters have towards him and vice versa is off the charts. Even if the media and fans don't see it, it's there. Usually guys don't speak poorly of their goalies, but this is on another level. Ferda.

Speaking of, social media people can never catch him. Like seriously where does this guy even walk in the building?? Where does he go during intermission?? Surely he practices at some point right?? He won the Veznia trophy (voted best goalie) and straight up did not show up to the ceremony.

He will go to the children's hospital to do visits with the team and the kids are either terrified or love him. Picturing him giving out the little teddy bears 😭

Caught covid despite his vigilant PPE usage (hockey locker rooms are cesspools like ew), got really sick, and developed myocarditis; ie almost died multiple times, recovered insanely fast and then just showed back up to practice one day at 100% like "put me in coach". No one outside of the trainers and locker room even knew why he was gone to begin with. Wild stuff.

Hockey players tend to tack on an '-y' or sometimes '-er' to a name for funsies but no one gets to call him 'Ghosty'. (Maybe Soap can call him that in private, as a treat 🥺)

Hockey hair status: he shaves his head boooo (not that you'd even be able to tell really with his mask and use of hats and hoods). Won't even grow out facial hair during the playoffs. Maybe if he did then he'd have a cup. Smh.

Roster pic: the meanest mug you've ever seen on a guy

Mic'd up status: everyone thinks he's unmic-able, however he's secretly telling jokes to himself when the puck is in the other zone. But no one needs to know that.

WAG status: if he had one we would never know... Right? He's always in the background of photos that Soap's girlfriend takes and posts of her and Soap? Much speculation.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Note: WAG stands for wife and girlfriend or the plural, used to refer to sports guys significant others. Yes it is heteronormative.

A/N: I'll never actually write fics for this, but I have headcanons. I know a moderate amount about hockey and next to nothing about cod so apologies. Completely unserious. Just some silly little thoughts :) plus letterkenny reference!

Edit for typo

More hockey au: Soap | Gaz | Price

[sleeplesssmoll]

Do you think that the foundations staff considers vertin a bad omen (or like a omen for the storm) and do you think the foundation did it on purpose and she kinda is?

Like if you think about it how can they not? Vertin is the timekeeper, someone who can brave the storm and not be affected like at all, and every work place has gossip at least even a little and with vertin's kind of aloof or "emotionless" personality I can't imagine people who hasn't met her would have a good perception of her and even at the start of the game the female investigator says "your our timekeeper that means..." That means when vertin arrived that signals to the investors that the storm is near, and even the whole procedure of you can call for aid of the timekeeper within 24 hours of the storm honestly all of this kinda feels like it's designed to have the timekeeper synonymous with the storm because wherever she is the storm is always near, do you think Constantine did that on purpose to further isolate vertin? Honestly it feels like something she'd do

I don't think Constantine did it intentionally but it definitely works in her favor. Vertin is like an omen of death who shows up before the Storm. As an Investigator, she's the last person you want to see but it's also very important you recognize her.

Smoltin was a pain in the Foundation's butt, but Vertin is the respected Timekeeper who carries the highest authority during the Storm. Regardless of how they feel about her personally, they have to trust her or risk being Reversed if they are in the danger zone.

I can totally see unsavory rumors and gossip floating around because she started off at the bottom. She was he sole member of her department for so long which means people's imaginations have a chance to run wild.

Here's a fun game, what kind if rumors/gossip would be floating around? What are people saying behind her back?

1. "What the hell is the Foundation thinking letting her gather all these unhinged arcanists? She must have people the scenes."

2. "Why do people follow her? What is she offering them that the Foundation can't? She should be investigated. "

3. "I hear her Suitcase brainwashes anyone who steps inside to obey her."

4. "The only reason she's ranked above us is because she's immune to the Storm. She's lucky she even graduated! If she wasn't the Timekeeper, she'd probably be cleaning the Critter pens!"

5. "Does she even care?"

6. "I can't look at her. Everything I do I remember everyone else who didn't make it..."

7. "She's so touchy with all her people. Just saying, it's kinda weird. I think I saw her kiss her assistant's cheek! Isn't that an abuse of power?"

8. "The top student is following orders from the worst in the class. It's like a sick joke. If that's where hard work gets you, whats the point of trying?"

9. "I don’t even know what her face looks like because she always has that stupid hat on with that stuffy suit. She loves to show off, while we're stuck in black and white."

10. "The Timekeeper was originally a frog but she was transformed after the first Storm!"

11. "She took in Joshua? She must be facing hard times."

12. "I heard she joined Manus at one point. I don't think we should keep someone like that in charge of a literal army of arcanists."

13. "She met Arcana multiple times and lived! She could be secretly working for her."

14. "Her team of Arcanists survived the island but the human team didn't. We need to keep an eye on her."

15. "A face only a mother could love. Have I seen it? Well, no, but why else would she hide it. It's not like she's shy."

16. "What do you mean she? Isn't the Timekeeper a guy? But it's Sir Vertin, Lord Vertin, and so on! Vertin's not a girl name to begin with! Ugh these damn Arcanists always make everything complicated."

17. "I thought she was interested in me but it turns out she holds hands and gives gifts to everyone. What a weirdo! Thank goodness, I dodged a bullet–shut up, I'm not angry. Why would I be angry? She's not even my type!"

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, is it okay to request in Transformers Earthspark?

so since we have a twin sister for TFA Elita-1, is it okay to have a twin sister for TFE Elita-1?

Buddy as the TFE Elita's twin sis.

TFE Elita's twin sis has the different/opposite of Elita, like Buddy's meek/shy, pacifist (yet has passive-aggressiveness), nurse, and/or mom friend. Or similar to Disney Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

"Buddy" is not their original name, used to be named "A-2 or E-2".

With Optimus (Orion Pax), Megatron(us or D-16), and Elita (Ariel) from their Pre-war times. You can put romance if you like

You can add this idea/s if you like:

takes place on pre-war Cybertron

TFE Elita's twin becomes techno-organic (like TFA Elita's (twin) ), or something else that is somehow related to Quintus Prime (something like, Quintus left his homeworld, using his Emberstone to seed life across the galaxy. Let's say there's an unknown/undiscovered planet related to Quintus Prime, and somehow Elita's twin landed/crashed/stranded on this planet), or not

then something happens to Elita's twin, became a missing/'dead' bot, she lost contact with her sis and friends and/or Cybertron. Later, she's found by the Decepticons, and she joins the cons, still has the same personality, also she didn't know there's a Bots Vs. Cons war happen before her missing

become a missing con, again, during the (nearly end) war on Earth, and only Megatron knows about it (ex. He and Elita's twin had a secret meet and he somehow found a stasis pod and hid her (in Witwicky near the Terran cave), or other ideas of your own)

And I'm stopping here for now since this long request, i'm putting the part two of this, and I'm so sorry if it's too much/been making too many requests

Thank you so much and also stay safe and healthy!

This... this is good.

A chance on writing Elita Ones's twin sister in a different way?

Count me in!

Friendly reminder this has nothing to do with TFA twin sister

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister pre war backstory

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Mention of injury, Angst, Cybertronain reader

TFE

Buddy and Elita were the best of sisters.

But they weren’t always known as Buddy or Elita One.

Before the war, Elita One was known as Ariel.

Buddy’s original name was E-2.

Ariel was the more outgoing twin who always tried to get her twin to go outside of her comfort zone and to make more friends.

E-2 on the other hand was much quieter than Ariel, still held a strong presence with her.

Ariel was the one who introduced her to Orion Pax and D-16.

“E, this is Orion and D-16. Guys this is my twin E-2.”--Ariel

Orion waves at E-2 with a warm smile on his face.

E-2, who was partially hiding behind Ariel, waves back shyly.

Ariel gently pushes her forward at D-16.

D-16 smiles at E-2.

E-2 smiles back.

“Hi.”—E-2

“Hello.”—D-16

Ariel swings both of her arms around them all.

“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”--Airel

E-2 gives them all a shy smile.

The four of them were a nearly inseparable group.

Orion and E-2 got along well, looking after Airel and D-16.

The two often had data pads they exchanged every other cycle and little chat about what they were about.

They were also the second voice of reason for Ariel and D-16 when they thought of activities or thoughts.

Ariel and D-16 looking at the tall drop off towers.

“I wonder what would happen if we went up there…”--Airel

“And what if we jumped off?”—D-16

“Exactly!”--Ariel

“Or!”--Orion

“And just hear us out, we DON’T jump off of the building, hmm?”—E-2

“We’ll be fine E.”--Ariel

“Ariel, just because I’m close to becoming an actual nurse doesn’t give you and 16 a free pass into a hospital.”—E-2

“Of course not, we have you and Orion for that.”—D-16

“D-16, you and I know that Orion is terrible at patch work jobs. Seriously just ask Ratchet.”—E-2

“Hey! I’m not that bad.”--Orion

“You fainted when you saw D-16’s injured servo. You’re not ready for any patch work.”—E-2

D-16 and E-2 got along like a house on fire.

Both wanting a better change for Cybertron, they found many things they could agree on.

Often D-16 would come to E-2 for help on his upcoming speeches and practice in front of her.

E-2, Ariel and Orion often went to D-16, now named Megatron, speeches about change on Cybertron.

The group could agree that changes needed to be made, but Buddy thought that maybe a more peaceful approach would be in the best interest of the bots.

This would soon cause a rift between the groups as Ariel backed Megatron’s bit forceful approach while Orion tried to play mediator.

It was around this time another one of E-2’s closest friends had offered her a chance to go on an expeditionary trip.

It was just to look at some planets then return to Cybertron.

Out of pure spite, E-2 agreed to go.

Anyways, he needed a medic with him in case something bad happened and E-2 had just finished with her tests and licenses.

“I’m sorry, you’re what?!”--Ariel

“Ariel calm down, I’m just going on a quick trip and I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Two months the most.”—E-2

“Why can’t he just go by himself? Doesn’t he have a lab partner?”--Ariel

“His lab partner had something going on at the last minute and couldn’t go. Anyways he needs a medic in case something goes wrong.”—E-2

Ariel had a frustrated look on her face and crossed her arms.

Orion looked at E-2.

“When will you be leaving? The docking ports are notorious for taking long time to—”--Orion

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”—E-2

“…”--Everyone

“YOU’RE WHAT?!”—Ariel and Megatron

E-2 flinches at the loud noise.

“How can you leave at a time like this?! We need as many bots on our side as possible! Not galivanting through space like its some sort of vacation!”--Megatron

Buddy feels her servos tighten as her anger rises.

“This is not some sort of vacation Megatron. I’m being a good friend—”—E-2

“If you were a good friend then you would stay here!”--Megatron

E-2 takes a step forward, surprising all three bots.

“And if I don’t?”—E-2

Megatron angrily takes a step forward almost menacingly.

“Do you want to find out E-2?”--Megatron

E-2 clenches her servos and walks away.

“And where are you going coward!”—Megatron

E-2 turns on her pedes fast and angry.

“I’m going before I say anything that I might regret!”—E--2

E-2 storms off into the night.

Orion looks at his friends.

“Ariel?”--Orion

Ariel looks a bit conflicted.

“…She should be supporting the movement Orion.”--Ariel

Orion looks appalled before starting to walk in E-2’s direction.

“Orion? Where are you going?”--Ariel

“To check on your twin sister.”--Orion

E-2 was honestly still surprised to see them all at the gates for the launch.

Buddy said her goodbyes in hugs.

Orion hugged her tightly and wished her the best.

Ariel gave a halfhearted hug.

Buddy tried to hug Megatron, but he moved away.

Hurt, Buddy waved goodbye instead.

Megatron just huffed despite Ariel slightly jabbing his side.

Buddy grabbed her kits and began walking to the front of the door to wait for her friend.

Her friend came rushing in, giving her a hug, and thanking her for wanting to join.

“You’re a life saver E! Star had something wrong with his tanks and—”

“Is that him?”—E-2

E-2 sees a seeker lingering around the drop off point not too far from where her friends and family were.

“Yeah, that’s him. He wanted to see how the launch went.”

E-2 smiles at the seeker and waves at him.

The seeker looks a bit shocked but waves back.

“Are you ready to go?”

He stretches his servo for E-2 to grab.

She does looking up at her friend.

“Lead the way Skyfire.”—E-2

They made their way into the security area before reaching their pods and shooting into the starry sky.

None of them knew it was going to be the last time they were going to see each other.

The two came across the planet Skyfire had been raving about.

It was a smaller planet splashed green and blue.

It looked like a peaceful world.

Skyfire wanted a closer look at the planet.

E-2 was a bit hesitant, but she followed her friend downward.

Neither were expecting the harsh jet streams to be so strong.

E-2 felt everything about this being a bad omen and tried to radio in Skyfire to start getting out of the area.

Skyfire reported that his pods navigation systems weren’t responding.

E-2 tried to fly closer to Skyfire’s pod in attempts to attach a cord to get him out when her pod suddenly went dark and dropped.

E-2 screamed in terror as she plummeted to the planet below.

Skyfire managed to get out of his pod and managed to get to E-2’s pod opening it and dragging her out.

He tried to fly with her out of the Jetstream and back into space, but the winds proved too cold and strong.

Next thing E-2 realized was that she was falling again while the stream carried a screaming Skyfire far away.

She tumbled onto the cold ground below and rolled into a hole in the ground.

With all her tumbling, she accidentally caused a cave in.

E-2 hit her helm against a boulder before landing in a pool of cold water.

Her helm was bleeding profusely as she tried to stand up.

Trying to get up, she noticed a strange rock in the center of the cave and a small organic creature on her armor.

She didn’t notice the rock glowing until it was too late.

Her entire frame felt like it was on fire, screaming in pain.

When it was over, she fell backwards into the cool water, slowly closing her optics from the pain.

The last thing she thought about was Ariel, Orion and Megatron.

They were probably thinking she was going to come back home any day now.

She wanted to say sorry to them…

Sorry that she wasn’t coming back home…

…

Back on Cybertron the life signals on the pods had turned dark.

The station had called Orion, Areil, Starscream and Megatron to tell them about the freak accident.

Most likely faulty wiring on the pods.

Either way, none of the passengers survived.

Everyone was in shock.

Ariel then started to sob horribly.

Orion immediately came to her aid hugging her tightly trying to keep his own tears at bay.

Megatron just stood there in shock.

Starscream demanded to know whose fault this was.

He nearly clawed at the poor bot across the table if Megatron hadn’t grabbed him back.

He held Starscream noticing the shakiness of both of their frames.

There was nothing they could do now.

One of the biggest regrets Megatron had in his entire life was not hugging Buddy that day or trying harder to make her stay.

Elita regretted not being able to stop her twin from leaving and not saying love you one last time.

Orion regretted not going with her.

Maybe he could have done something to help with the faulty wiring or something.

They weren’t going to see her again, not until it was their time to go to the Allspark.

Until then… till all are one.

[kenziebluex]

Come Home with me Omega

Giyu Tomioka x Kento Nanami (18+)

Summary: Giyu Tomioka needed to get out of the house, so when his coworkers invited him out to a known bar he jumped at the opportunity. He didn't take into account that his heat was approaching quickly. Expecting only omegas and betas on this outing he’s met with a surprise, an alpha. 

Kento Nanami

✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿✿❀○❀✿

Giyu Tomioka doesn't stand a chance. He doesn’t even know how he found himself in this predicament. Of course, him agreeing to go out with his new group of friends tonight turned into a straight up disaster. 

Drenched with a numerous amount of drinks on him and leaking slick like you couldn’t imagine.

Anyone that met him could tell Giyu is an omega, and he only tends to hang out with omegas and occasionally betas. To make matters worse, his heat is coming up in a few days. 

When he was invited out by his cute co-worker, Choso, he agreed right away. I mean have you seen that man he’s intimidating but you would have to be blind to ignore the fact that he is cute. The bar he was invited to is known to be diverse but they have different sections so that if you wanted to enjoy the company of your friends you didn't have to socialize with other people. The dark charcoal outside of the bar might seem intimidating but once inside you are met with the bar's light gray walls with dark blue accents. The bar barely had any lights and while you can make out faces you couldn't see from a far distance in the bar. 

Giyu thought that this outing was going to consist of primary omegas and betas but after being introduced to Ino, Gojo, and Geto who were all very good looking. You couldn’t imagine his surprise when Choso continued down the row of people and landed on Nanami. Nanami Kento. 

One look at Nanami led to Giyu stuttering and out of embarrassment he ended up tripping on the dark blue carpet. To add to that the carpet had a table on top of it that wasn’t stable. The white and gray shirt Giyu was wearing was covered in multiple drinks and his black jeans were soaked.

“I am never going out again” He was sure of it. 

His heart started beating rapidly and you would think the drinks would cool him off but no. Giyu was horny as hell. Just from glancing at this man once Giyu had a problem. He was leaking so much slick and his cheeks were flustered with a bright red color that compared to his pale skin made it more obvious, even in the poorly lit room. You would think he was one of those overly horny omegas that even Giyu would complain about from time to time. He didn’t know why but he needed this man. 

He completely zoned out from the commotion around him. Several apologies fell from his mouth and all the guys around him were offering their hands to help him up. Just completely embarrassing. Blushing from everyone staring at him, Giyu tried to compose himself. 

Suddenly Giyu felt a sweater being wrapped around his shoulders. He turned to thank the person but was stopped when he heard the most captivating voice. 

Giyu Pov (First Person)

“It’s okay guys, i’ll get him cleaned up” Nanami said while guiding me towards the bathroom with a hand on my lower back. His hand was warm and it felt like I was floating as we walked through the lounge area and down a long hallway that one could only assume led us to the bathroom. 

Once in the bathroom he watched as Nanami closed and locked the door without much of a word. He then continued standing by the bathroom door giving Giyu enough time to actually survey his body. Nanami was around 6 '0 feet and was wearing a dark blue shirt that matched his pants very well. His hair was a bright blond and what really pulled his look together was the tie that was hanging on his neck resting on his muscular chest. What Giyu would do to have that tie around his- 

“You smell like a whore house right now” with a deep chuckle Nanami undid his tie and unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt. Next thing I knew he was directly in front of me and I was face to face with his beautiful hazel eyes that seemed to be glimling even though the bathroom had no natural lighting. 

“Do you want me?” he asked, pressing his hand firmly on the back of my neck. If my wolf didn't want him before he surely did now. 

It was my natural reaction at that point. My body jerked closer to him as a noise I wasn’t sure was my own came out of my throat. I tilted my neck barring myself to him and that seemed to be a response enough. As quick as a second my body was lifted and pressed against the counter. My arm brushing against the dark gray granite on the wall. 

“Please..” my plea was cut off by his lips covering mine. 

There was no fighting for dominance. His lips were soft but also aggressive like he was trying to be gentle and hold back at the same time. His crouch grazed against mine and you would think he was already inside me at the noises that were being made. His lips left mine and continued down to my neck. Nugging and nipping at my neck the wolf in me was howling at him to take me already. As if he was reading my thoughts again.

“I’m not claiming you in a bathroom, that has to be done properly.” He practically whispered. He seemed lost in the way I smelled. Nanami looked to be practically half shifting at this point. His fangs were threatening to fall and his hazel eyes were now a deep crimson red, his eyes reminded me of a ruby. 

He continued down while adjusting me so I'm now leaning on the counter. 

“Sorry, I can’t wait any longer.” Nanami stated while undoing my jeans and pulling them down as he took one knee to the floor crouching down. 

“Fuckkk” I instantly whined, feeling his warm mouth enclose over my already leaking member. My legs were shaking and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to stand right now if it wasn’t for my leaning on the counter. 

“Nanami, I’m not going to last.” I said with tears forming in my eyes, trying not to buckle into his face. 

“That’s okay baby, want you to fuck my face some” he pulled away with a lowly grunt for a moment to inform me. My body moved automatically toward him as if following his command. The moans would not stop falling from my mouth. 

“Please, can’t” choking out a weak sob. Turning my head into my shoulder tears started to fall and I could feel my fangs drop. I wanted to be good to him and last but I didn't know if I could anymore.

I made the mistake of glancing down and I was a goner. His feral gaze and hungry eyes looked up into mine for a second and I couldn’t breathe.

Already knowing what was coming my legs shook violently as my release was brought over me. 

“Fuuuck, hngh” high pitched moans fell from my mouth. For the first time my vision blurred and I felt my fang cut a small slice in my upper lip. When my vision cleared I was back on the counter and my jeans were being pulled up. Looking forward, Nanami was still leaning on me and my hand had somehow found its way on his shoulder. 

Suddenly a wave of anxiety washed over me and I began to feel a little lightheaded. What if this was a one time thing? He wants more from me right? Questions began to pour into my head but were stopped once he moved back to look at me. His rudy eyes blinded me, they were hypnotizing. I almost missed what he said.

“Come home with me omega”  

Giyu Pov (First Person)

This drive was way too long, when he said come home with me I wasn't expecting this long of a drive. Sitting on the leather seats my brain still can't wrap my head around what just happened. I've never been like that, most omegas like that I don't even associate with. When I think about it some more all I can say is I would do it again in a heartbeat. 

Walking out of the bar I wasn't surprised when Nanami led me to a nicely sleek car that had black leather seats and blue interior. Beside me you can tell that Nanami was still worked up and honestly I could say the same for me right now. Even though I just came over 30 minutes ago my body feels like it's overheating.

The AC was blasting but for some reason it felt hot and I couldn't feel if I was sweating or not. Oh no. 

My heat wasn’t supposed to be for another few days. 

I looked over to Nanami, which was a mistake. Nanami had his shirt fully unbuttoned and I could still see his eyes were a mix between his normal hazel eyes with a hint of red. What had my complete attention was the bulge outline in his pants. His pants had a very distinguished tent and his hands were gripping the steering wheel with powerful strength. I never wanted to be a steering wheel so bad. The veins in his hands were prominent because of the strong grip on the wheel. In this very moment all I wish was that his hands were around my neck- 

“Babe” Nanami practically growled out, snapping me out of my thoughts. I shifted in my seat feeling the slick leak more out of me.

“We are almost there, you are purring baby. I promise I'll take care of you when we get in” he assured me while I leaned on his shoulder trying to curl up in his lap. I didn’t even realize I was purring until he mentioned it.

“Hurry” was my only reply to him. It’s obvious which one of us is in control and giving a command to an alpha isn’t like me but I just need him badly. 

We barely made it into the entrance of his bedroom, Nanami was carrying me at this point. I proceeded to strip off the rest of my clothes. The material of my clothes felt too tight on my body. My body was on fire. By now I had reached feverish temperatures. Whimpering I reached for his body but was quickly guilded to the bed.

“You with me, Giyu?” he whispered in my ear before removing his shirt trailing kisses down my neck and chest. I only got a quick glimpse of his chest and my god. I don’t know if I'm going to survive this. His chest was bulky and muscular, his skin was creamy adding to his well defined abs. In contrast my delicate fair skin was lighter and I looked extremely pale in comparison. All I could do was moan. 

“If you wanna come for me baby, I need you to relax” I was gripping the sheets tensing up without even realizing it. My claws were extending and tearing holes in his silk sheets. 

It’s not that it mattered, the sheets were already ruined, stained with my slick.

Nanami continued down my body until he reached my aching member. I was a mess, leaking so much from my cock as well as slick leaking out my ass. My body was preparing for him to take me and I didn’t want to wait any longer. 

He held my legs down, enclosing his mouth around my cock. My hands instantly found their way to his hair for the second time tonight. 

“Mhmm'' Nanami moaned around my cock sending a jolt down my legs. A series of moans and whining fell from my mouth like water flowing down a river. I wasn’t going to last at this rate.

“Can I come please?” I cried out, trying not to grip his hair. If it wasn't for him holding my legs down I would have been shaking. Nothing could have prepared for the next words out of his mouth. 

“Not yet baby” He ordered sliding my cock out of his mouth with a pop. My eyes became teary as my body clenched trying to hold off my orgasm.

“Turn over” with the help of Nanami I was now laying face down. Once I was turned the tears began to fall as he licked at the slick that had fallen down my back thigh and his mouth enclosed my rim. 

“You don’t have-” my words were cut off as he firmly licked my hole, licking up the fluids I was leaking. I could feel his fangs that were dropped fully at this point. They were grazing against my hole. It felt dangerous but also turned me on so much I couldn’t complain. My body was arched and my face was hidden in the pillows as a string of whining and moans were mufflied into the pillow. 

Every moan and curse that came out of my mouth just led Nanami to push his tongue deeper.. He was consumed with this overwhelming need to have me teary eyed and fucked out.  

Before I knew it Nanami was pulling my legs and pushing at my lower back. He sucked a mark into the right side of my neck that had me practically begging for him to claim me. In between the kisses and bites he left on my neck I felt two fingers prodding their way into me. He must have felt that I was ready enough because his fingers left me empty and wet. 

“Come on, fuck, I need you to fuck me.” I gasped, breathing in a deep breath. I was willing to beg at this point anything just to get him inside of me. 

“Alpha please, alpha” my words were cut off by Nanami cursing and let out a growl as he entered me gently but also rough enough that I knew I would be limping tomorrow. 

Dropping to my elbows, all I could do was take it. As he slid deeper, I clenched around him and swore as he reached deeper and deeper inside of me. 

Behind me you could feel him losing control. His hips continued to jack-rabbit into me and my neck had to be a bright red color with how many marks he was leaving.

“Fuck, your body is so submissive for me baby.” 

Suddenly Nanami felt his movement start to slow and it was getting harder to thrust. 

“Fuck your gonna make me knot” he swore sucking several marks into my neck. I whined basically sobbing into the pillow at this point. My cock was painfully hard. At this exact moment I didn’t want it to end but I needed to cum. I just needed his permission, as if answering my prayers his hand wrapped around my member not even getting one full stroke in. “I need it”

“Cum for me” Nanami whispered as my vision blurred and my fangs cut my lip. My orgasm was so intense I couldn’t stop squirming on his knot.

“Look at you pretty boy. Just taking it” he said grunting until his knot fully locked inside me restricting his movement. 

Nanami bent down to kiss my shoulder as we both came down. I had rosy cheeks and his chest was glistening with sweat. The sound of our heavy breathing was the only noise being made in the room. We managed to turn on our sides so he was spooning me as we waited for the knot to deflate. 

“Next time, i’m claiming you” Nanami stated before curling more into my body.

Giyu didn’t have any complaints. 

tags: @buzzz-bees

-Des

[dragongirlie56]

02-Suitors

This one’s a lot longer than my first Zelink oneshot! Hope you enjoy!

Happy Halloween everyone :)

Here’s the link to my other oneshots ——> Zelink masterlist

Ship: Zelink

Warnings? None!

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Link was a hair away from smacking the stuck up prince with the pommel of his sword. How he has kept his cool through countless suitors he didn't know. (That's a lie. He's been counting, and it's been twelve suitors.)

Prince Curo, with his brown hair and blue eyes, droned on and on for so long Link counted seven times since Zelda had zoned out completely disinterested with what the prince had to say. She normally never did that, she loved to listen to people as much as she loved talking. But the prince didn't even give her any space to get in a word. He didn't once ask about what she liked to do or where she went in her free time or what her favorite dessert was?

She glanced over her shoulder and met Link's gaze with knitted brows. He gave her a smile of pity that probably looked more like a grimace. He could tell she was hating this just as much as he was. No, definitely more than he was. He didn't have to talk to the guy.

"Does he have to follow us? You're perfectly safe with me. See we have guards stationed everywhere." The prince turned halfway to frown at the blonde hero. 

Link kept his expression level as the prince stared. He seriously considered jumping him. That would be truly reckless. Though he thought Zelda might be happy if he did and they could make their grand escape.

"But you know, there's a fine line between courage and recklessness! As brave as you are, that does not make you immortal." Link chuckled inwardly at the memory of him and Zelda—of course there was a difference between facing multiple lynels, lizafos, and bokoblins compared to one prince but he thought it would've been worth it. Though he would upset an entire kingdom and the King of Hyrule.

"Yes," she replied, glancing at a picture on the wall. "Link is always by my side."

"I didn't ask for his name, Zelda." Caro shook his head.

Zelda's eyebrows rose and she turned her head towards him. "You will respect my knight who is, in fact, the Hero of Hyrule. Without him and I, the calamity would've taken over your kingdom as well," she replied, her tone firm. "And we aren't on a first name basis. So that is Princess to you."

Link bit his cheek. He noticed it has been a lot harder to hide his emotions (especially smiles) ever since he'd grown closer with the blonde haired girl. 

Caro matched her raised brows, obviously not expecting a retort to put him in his place. The prince waved his hand and continued through the gardens. Link noticed Zelda's clenched fists and her apparent frown.

He flicked his eyes back to the prince and watched him walk down the hall. The brunette prince reminded him of a moblin: tall and stupid. Resembling the royal to a snout-nosed blue monster was being generous. Extremely generous. 

"You'll see here is my favorite part of the hall." Carl steeped his arm in an arc.

Of course it would be. Trophies were individually displayed in glass cases, many engraved with a bow and quiver of arrows. He only found one that said the prince's name, and it read, 'Participation award.'

Hylia, spare me. Link looked momentarily towards the ceiling.

"I'm an incredible archer so as you can see here I've won many, many contests." His smug smile almost made Link roll his eyes. Almost, Link wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

I could beat him, Link found himself thinking. Was it a bit prideful? Yes. But it was also humble because he said 'could' which gave the prince a slight chance against him. Link thought he was doing okay at balancing his jealousy.

Zelda, much to Link's delight, didn't really react much except for a "Very nice."

"Why thank you." The prince put a hand to his chest and continued on.

"Do you have a library?" Zelda asked, glancing down a neighboring hall.

"... yeah I think so?" Carole's eyebrows furrowed.

"You think?" One of Zelda's golden brows quirked upwards.

"Why would you want to go to one anyways?"

Zelda let out a light sigh as she gestured forward with her hand. "Nevermind. Please continue, Prince Caro."

—————————————————

Orange and pink tinted clouds ribboned the tiring sky. Link and Zelda stood side by side as they took in the beauty of the setting sun. It has been a good hour since their agonizing tour with the trivial prince.

Link's blue eyes flicked to Zelda and he watched the way the fading golden rays framed her face. She was absolutely breathtaking. If Link had paint and an easel he could only dream of capturing her essence in this moment. 

He quickly noticed the shift in her eyes, an underlying thought she's held back.

"Link."

He hummed in acknowledgment and tilted his head.

"What would you do in my situation?"

Link cast his eyes toward the horizon. That was a difficult question considering he had an unspoken irritation regarding the princess meeting with suitors who could be potential husbands for her. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth and opened a new door to a fear of his. He didn't want to stop being her knight. He didn't trust another man to protect her like he would—-like he does.

Instead of voicing any of his internal thoughts, naturally, he replied with, "I don't know." Because really what could she do? Deny the King's orders, her father, and run away? Abandon her duties as the future queen of Hyrule? He didn't know what he would do if he was forced into this situation of an arranged marriage.

Zelda nodded. "I don't know either. But I can't... I can't do this... None of them care about me. Or desire to get to know me. The feeling is mutual, don't get me wrong, but... I don't want to have to marry a... a ... mindless buffoon who only cares about his looks and the union for power. He'll take control over my kingdom and I will have no say in it. I'm sure he would forbid me from pursuing my studies."

I wouldn't. I would let you talk about them all day long. Link imagined them in Hyrule Field—like that one day where she showed him the Silent Princess—laying in the grass as she told him everything new she's read and discovered. Her green eyes would light up like they always did. He would be completely content hearing her voice from the waking hours of dawn to the darkening hours of the twilight.

His heart stuttered when she met his eyes. "Can you take me back, Link? Please? I- I can't stay here anymore. My father can't force me to love him or any of them. Not when I..."

Link's heart now pounded frantically against his chest, he was seriously going to have a heart attack someday because of her.

She didn't finish, much to Link's disappointment. "You don't have to-"

"Whatever you wish, I'll abide Z-" His pointy ears twitched as he heard footsteps against stone. "Princess."

Zelda raised an eyebrow but followed his gaze towards the cobblestone path. She let out a sigh and turned to greet the prince.

"Princess. It saddens me to say but this won't work out." The prince shook his head.

Link didn't miss the way the side of Zelda's lip twitched as she fought a smile.

"I must apologize for such a heartbreaking rejection but it had to be done." The prince put a hand to his head.

"I'll forgive you someday." Zelda sighed and started to walk away.

"Should I walk you...?" He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable and reluctant to do so. 

"I'm alright. I have Link," she replied simply.

"Right... you said that before. Anyways, farewell. I had a...lovely? Yes lovely... tour with you in the garden."

"Ah... yes... lovely." She gave him a small smile.

The pair watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner.

"I would've taken you back either way, Zel." Link glanced at her sideways.

"I know. Thank you." 

"Always."

They sat in comfortable silence, watching as the last traces of golden light sank into the horizon.

"I'm going to talk to my father," Zelda announced and Link glanced at her.

"About stopping this." She gestured behind her towards the looming castle. "Stopping all of it."

"I'm with you." Link nodded once.

Zelda's eyes softened. "Thank you Link. Your support means more than you know."

He gave her a light smile and held out his hand. "Shall we head home?"

"We shall." Zelda nodded and accepted his hand with a smile that reached her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Link noticed the way Zelda's arms trembled as she stared solemnly at the oak door of her fathers study. She inhaled shakily.

"You can do it, Princess." The blonde knight laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Zelda tore her gaze from the looming door and met his gaze. He could see the fear in her eyes.

"He'll be furious."

"You don't have to do this."

"No." Her eyes flashed with determination. "I have to." She raised her hand and knocked.

"Enter." The King's voice carried through the wooden oak.

Zelda took a deep breath. With one last glance at Link she turned the handle.

He followed in behind her and bowed before the King. Rhoam stood from his chair and walked around his desk that was filled with documents and empty ink bottles.

"Rise Link."

Link did.

"Leave us please. I must speak to my daughter alone. I'll send her for you once we are finished." 

Link briefly looked at Zelda, watching the way her face fell slightly. Zelda turned towards him and they shared a look.

He gave the King a curt nod and with one last glance at his princess, he exited the study.

——————————————-

Rhoam stayed silent until Link shut the door. His eyes flitted to Zelda and he raised his eyebrows. "Why is it that I've just heard of how difficult you were with Prince Caro? There's no chance of union between us and the Wiln Kingdom."

Difficult?

"I don't care." Zelda's words came out before her brain could process their meaning. Though she didn't regret them.

"Pardon?"

"I said I don't care," she repeated.

"Zelda," her father started, his tone stern. "I know you are having a hard time with this suitor situation. But it is my duty as King and your duty as princess to do what's best for the kingdom of Hyrule. Which is why I have promised you to the Prince Elok of Lon." 

Zelda's stomach dropped. "Promised? How could you?" Her voice broke. "What about your duty as a father? As my father? Do you not want your only daughter to marry for love? To be married to someone she trusts fully? Why do you want to marry me off to some random prince who doesn't care about me?!" She shouted with tears burning the edges of her eyes like wildfires. "I did what you asked. I trained relentlessly. You already took my childhood away from me... you can't take this away too. It should be my choice. I'm who I decide to marry."

"You are a princess-"

"Who sealed the calamity away! Don't I get points for that? I don't want to marry if it isn't for love!"

The king scoffed and shook his head. "What do you know of love, Zelda? You're eighteen years old."

"I'm in it! I'm in love with someone! Not with any of the suitors and I certainly won't be with this new one. Someone who wouldn't suppress my interests and who I am!"

"Who could you possibly-"

"Link."

Rhoam stared at her, stunned. 

"...Link? I thought you despised him."

Zelda's ears burned as she reminisced about her childish actions. Link and her did have a rocky start, much to her accusations and misunderstandings. But she apologized and they ended up growing closer. 

She wanted to say, 'If you had paid any attention at all then you would've realized I don't hate him.'

But instead she said, "No."

"Why didn't you come and talk to me about this?"

Zelda's hands shook at her sides. "You never gave me the space or safety to do so. All you do is lecture me."

"I-" Rhoam's hand covered his mouth as he stared out the window. He was silent for a long time.

Zelda's eyes fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so harsh on you."

In time she would find it in herself to forgive him. She knew that. But now, it wasn't the right time.

"I know it was what you believed was best for me," she replied instead.

"Yes, but I should've thought of you. You're my daughter and I didn't protect you."

She didn't disagree with that. 

They were both quiet for a while.

"How did your powers awaken?" Her father broke the heavy silence.

Zelda's mind flashed back to the rush of guardians, the gleaming fires, the harsh rain, and the anxiety that grew in her chest.

But none of that mattered when the guardian aimed at Link. Her stomach dropped to the floor and she felt this overwhelming urge to save him without any fear for her own life. She couldn't let him die, not when she...

Not when she loved him.

She remembered thinking of every moment she shared with her blonde haired knight. Every smile, conversation, and burden they shared.

When she pushed him back to stand in front of him, her hand grew warm and a blinding light erupted from her palm.

"I let Link in," Zelda paused. "...and there wasn't anything more important in that moment than saving him."

Rhoam nodded. "I see... You have my blessing."

Zelda's eyes snapped to him. "What?" she found herself blurting, unsure if she heard her fathers words right.

"No more suitors. If you want to marry Link and if he accepts, I shall accept your wishes. I'll discard the letter I've started for giving your hand to Prince Elok."

She couldn't help the happy tears that sprung to her eyes and the glowing smile that overtook her lips.

"Thank you, Father."

He smiled and shooed her. "Go to him."

Zelda didn't need to be told twice. She threw the doors open and ran down the corridor. She rounded the corner and nearly ran into one of the maids.

"Princess?!" The maid exclaimed, holding her white bandana in place.

"So sorry Ronda!"

Zelda's only thought was to get to her knight. 

——————————————

Link's ears twitched at the rapidly approaching steps. He tensed as he reached for the handle of his sword and whipped his head towards the possible threat. 

His eyes locked onto golden hair and he lowered his hand slowly as he realized it was Zelda. He scanned her expression and his shoulders relaxed when he realized she wasn't in danger.

Though his brain did short circuit when she ran into his arms and hugged him around the waist. The tips of his ears turned pink and his face went slack. She's hugging me. She's hugging me?

He tentatively wrapped his arms around her shoulders. His heart thundered in his chest and he wondered if she could hear it.

She pulled away—much to Link's dismay—and stood in front of him with a bright smile, one that could light the night sky—-his favorite smile of hers. 

Though he was very confused, she never came back from a talk with the King in good spirits. She always sulked and not even her research could pull her out of it.

"Link, you won't believe it!" 

He raised his brows as he waited for her to continue, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"No more suitors! No more awful tours!"

"Wh-what made him change his mind?" Link found himself asking.

"Well..." Zelda's eyes shied away from him. He was surprised he was waiting for her to look at him rather than the other way around.

"I told him I was in love with another. And if it wasn't him I would marry. I didn't want it."

"Oh... who?" A small sliver of hope shone through the doubts crushing his stomach. 

Zelda took in a breath and released it before meeting his gaze. "You Link. I'm in love with you."

The world seemed to tilt beneath the blonde hero's feet as he stared at her with his mouth slightly agape. He was surprised he didn't pass out or wake up from this insane dream. Because it had to be a dream, right?

"B-but don't feel the need to reciprocate my feelings because I'm a princess. Rejection is a part of life. The last thing I would want is to pressure you especially when you don't feel the same way. What I'm trying to say is you don't have to accept my- my proposal. I know the duty alone would be a huge step and a life change, naturally, but-"

"I- Can you say that again?" Link fell deaf to the rest of her ramble, his brain zeroing in on the fact she declared her love. For him. A mere knight.

"What?" Her hands fell to her side.

"What you said before- are you really in... love with..." His eyes flitted from the side to her. "Me?"

Zelda's eyes softened. "I am in love with you, Link."

He definitely wasn't dreaming.

"I'm in love with you, Zelda. I always have been." He felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest. 

"Really?"

"Really." He held out his arm. When she carefully placed her hand in his, he boldly kissed the back of it. A sly smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"You missed." Mirth twinkled in her emerald eyes.

"Did I?" He raised a brow at her.

"Mhm." A chuckle escaped her chest. Sliding her other hand behind his neck, she gently placed her lips on his.

He kissed her back and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I love you." Zelda said once they broke away and she started to cry. 

Link tucked a stray piece of hair behind her pointed ears. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs before pulling her in for a hug. "And I love you."

[tinytalkingtina]

Not a "Big Deal"

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild kinktober day 21 prompt "ride" Rating: E (18+ only please) | ~1.3k words | Ao3 link

A sequel to Not Your "Cute Little Button" from day 10 (either can be read as a standalone though, just wanted to give these two a chance to let Eddie top in the micropenis AU <3)

Tags: Steve/Eddie, Eddie has a micropenis, mutual insecurities, blow job, fluff/smut/comfort, anal sex, Top Eddie/Bottom Steve, Steve's oral fixation continues to be happily fulfilled, modern AU, bisexual Eddie and Steve (it's not brought up in this one but I want it to be known lol), no feminization, the boys fall hard for one another

Many thanks to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the divider!

Eddie stared at the box of condoms, half expecting it to explode at any moment. The packaging claimed they were good for a “snug fit.” As if that would preserve his dignity for being too small to buy normal sizes. Belatedly, he realized Steve had continued talking after he had walked in and slapped the incriminating object onto the counter like it was nothing:

“I figured the kind I usually use probably wouldn't fit on you so uh, I got these? The lady at the store said they'd work fine unless you were super thick.” Of course Steve would have no problem asking someone what to buy for a tiny dick.

“You…you really want me on top?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded eagerly.

“Are you sure? It's okay if you don’t, it might not feel super good if I can't reach your prostate and you should feel good, it takes two to tango after all, right? Not that I'm saying I don't want to, because holy shit, you have a ‘well-turned ass’ as a French peasant would say, or maybe they wouldn't say that because it's too lustful and the Church of course—”

“Hey,” Steve interrupted his ramblings before he could launch into a wildly off-topic tangent about medieval Catholic guilt. “Weren't you just saying last week that the rim is a, what's the word, erroneous zone?"

“Erogenous,” Eddie wheezed, his face bright red.

Steve snapped his fingers.

“Oh yeah that's it, erogenous! When you do that thing with your tongue I see fucking stars man, so why wouldn't your dick feel the same? Don’t think we’re gonna have a problem though. Your fingers are shorter, and they've definitely managed to reach my prostate. If the play ends up not working then we'll regroup and try out another one, yeah? Change up the position.”

Eddie squinted at his boyfriend.

“Are you trying to give me a pep talk like this is the championship ball game and I'm the next guy up at bat to make free throws?”

“First of all, you know they’re called home runs, you came to two games when my kids made the playoffs, and second of all I don't know what you're talking about,” Steve said, like a lying liar. "It's working on you though, isn't it?"

“…A little.”

“Good.” Steve gave him a confident smirk, and G-d, Eddie had never been more attracted to the man. “Get undressed already so I can blow you first. Want you to last if I'm gonna ride.”

He eagerly followed him to the bedroom, leaving shed clothes in their wake without a second thought. Two months of dating and Steve lavishing compliments on him any chance he got meant that Eddie's instinctive self-consciousness about someone seeing him nude was finally giving up the ghost.

After one enthusiastic blow job—holy shit did his boyfriend love having something in his mouth when there was no risk of gagging—Eddie was rather proud of the valiantly quick rally on the part of his dick, eager to get to the main event of the afternoon. 

Steve pushed him onto his back against the pillows. Impatiently, he rolled the condom down and slathered on some lube before straddling Eddie’s legs. They both moaned as Steve slowly lowered himself, relaxing quickly.

A whispered “fuck!” escaped his mouth as he bottomed out and without pause began to frantically bounce straight up and down.

“Feels okay sweetheart?” Eddie had to check, even if another part of him continued to thrust in time to match Steve’s movements.

“Yes. See, I ohhh, told you so,” he said breathlessly, giggling when Eddie stuck out his tongue in retaliation. Steve was so beautiful like this, lit up in gold by the setting sun, chasing his pleasure with abandon.

As his boyfriend rode him ever faster, Eddie had to concentrate on not coming for a second time so soon. He grabbed Steve’s hips when he finally lost his balance and collapsed onto his chest, stomach muscles trembling from the effort of keeping himself upright for so long.

The movement was too much though, and Eddie felt himself slip out enough for Steve to whine in protest.

“Shit, lost it,” he said, desperately trying to find his prostate again from this angle, but it was no use like this. The bitter voice at the back of his head got louder and more insistent the longer he took. Steve was going to leave him now, he couldn’t satisfy him. He’d be nice about it probably, let him pick up the things he’d left in his apartment but—

“Eddie?” A hand to his face shook him out of the spiral. “Do you wanna stop?” Steve’s thumb brushed his cheek and came back wet.

“N-no but I’m so s-sorry, I can’t make you feel good.” Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and stilled his hips. “I can blow you or eat you out, whatever you want, just let me get rid of the condom and—.”

He let out a yelp when Steve suddenly flipped them over without pulling off, and locked his legs behind Eddie’s back.

“If you don’t want to stop, can you tell your brain to shut up? Told you we might just need to change the position.” He huffed out. “Come on, what I want is for your abs to get a workout instead of mine now.”

It took a few seconds for Eddie to process what Steve had said. But another bitchy demand had him get with the program. He hitched Steve’s legs higher over his shoulders before grinding down. Better able to move like this, it wasn’t long before:

“Yes, there, right there, please don’t stop!” Steve writhed underneath him, openly moaning as his hand drifted closer to his dick, where it slapped against his stomach with every thrust.

“There you go,” Eddie panted. “So gorgeous, so good for me.”

Steve moaned louder and looked up at him with pleading eyes. His lips, still slightly puffy from the earlier blow job were so inviting. Eddie gave into his impulses and stuck a couple fingers into Steve’s mouth. His boyfriend sucked them down and hummed happily. The sight had Eddie careening straight towards an orgasm. He just barely managed to hold it off while babbling:

“There you go, just needed to be filled up on both ends huh?” Steve frantically nodded. “That’s good sweetheart, take what you need, you’re so tight around me holy shit.”

It didn’t take much more encouragement for Steve to finally stiffen and come. Squeezed from all sides, Eddie pretty soon followed him over the edge.

Later, after they’d wiped themselves off and changed into clean clothes, Steve curled up in his arms like a giant contented house cat. Eddie considered letting three words slip from his lips, ones that he hadn’t quite worked up the guts to let out just yet.

“Thank you,” he settled for instead. “You’re kind of a mensch when it comes to dealing with my shit, you know that right?”

Steve didn’t open his eyes, just nuzzled further into his neck as he snorted. “I’ve dealt with worse shit than yours. ‘sides, it’s worth it, you make me happy. I'm gonna start yelling at your brain to fuck off with the bullying,” he continued. “Not too good to fight it to get the point across for someone I lo-like. Someone I like a lot.”

Steve heartbeat plucked out a staccato rhythm against his chest from his slip-up.

Eddie placed a kiss on his forehead and held him tighter, hoping it conveyed the intended meaning. Someday soon, he’d find the courage. 

Because Steve was worth it too.

Author's Notes, aka some irrelevant G-rated world building for this AU: -Steve is an activity coordinator at the local YMCA and coaches Little League. His team didn't win the playoffs that year, but they were very excited to be there! -Eddie is a session musician. Wayne has a display of the albums he's appeared on in his trailer, right under the mug collection.