#and I need it off my chest else Imma be stupid about something

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 6

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Series Masterlist

Saturday Afternoon..

“This is so fucking stupid.” Joe mumbled to himself  as he drove down I-95. After another one of his text messages sent to Kiyana went unanswered. He was down bad. He just didn’t understand. Kiyana and Josh were divorced now, so there was nothing standing in the way of him and Kiyana being together now. The stupid part wasn’t even that he was driving to Pensacola because he could just play it off as wanting to see his parents, it’s that fact that this impromptu trip only took place because Kiyana was active on social media but not responding to his text messages.

6 hours down, 3 hours and 30 minutes to go.. 

“How did Josh take the news?” Samara asked as she and Kiyana walked around the mall looking for stores to go in. Samara narrowed her eyes at Kiyana when she didn't respond back.  “Kiyana Marie…” 

“I didn’t tell him yet.” Kiyana muttered as they walked into a store. She could feel the heat of Samara’s stare as she picked up a dress from the rack and held it up to her body. 

“That’s ugly, put it down.” Kiyana rolled her eyes and put the dress back. “Why the hell not?” Kiyana huffed as she started looking through another rack of dresses.

 “I just don’t wanna spring it on him Sam,” Kiyana huffed out. “We’ve only been divorced for like what? 2 weeks is that not too soon?” It took everything in Samara to not knock her best friend upside her head. 

“Key, y’all were married and he was sleeping with that girl, it’s no such thing as too soon when it comes to y’all.  You don’t owe him anything..”  Kiyana sucked her teeth, but she knew Samara was right, she didn’t owe Josh anything. “Fuck Josh.” 

“You’re right,” Kiyana muttered as her heart started to ache in her chest. She knew she needed to move on.. She had to move on for her own sanity. Josh had proven to her that he wasn’t the man she thought he was, it was time for her to move on. 

“I wasn’t expecting you back for another hour or two.” Josh stated as Kiyana walked into her living room. She eyed him, frowning her face up as he looked a little too comfortable in her living room, sprawled out on her couch. The boys weren’t used to him not being in the house yet, so he had been spending his days off at the house instead of his apartment. 

“I just wanted to pick a couple of things up from the mall.” She said and Josh nodded, his eyes peeking over at her bags, eyes narrowing as one of the names stuck out to him. 

“Damn, you got a date or something?” He jokingly asked, trying to peek into the lingerie store bag.  Now or never 

“Yeah,” She said, “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I need you to take the boys tonight.” 

“Wait.” Josh chuckled, sitting up and grabbing the remote, turning the t.v off. “What the fuck is you telling me right now?” He asked, feeling his stomach tighten and his heart start to pound faster. A date? Nah, he must’ve heard her wrong. 

“You’re not seriously mad right now are you?” She asked and he scoffed 

“What the fuck - of course i’m mad Kiyana. I’m your husband -” 

“Ex-husband!” She cut him off. “You’re my ex-husband who decided that he no longer wanted to be faithful. ” 

Suddenly, Josh couldn’t breathe. He drowned out whatever else Kiyana was saying and just stared at her pretty face. This can not be happening right now. The thought of Kiyana being with someone else made him sick to his stomach. “I’m gonna go.” He said, not looking at her as he put his shoes on and started walking towards the door. 

“What about the boys? Can you take them tonight?” Josh scoffed and shook his head. 

“Nah, not tonight.” 

“Josh!” She called out, leaping up from the couch and following him out of the house. “You being deadass?” 

“You think imma sit in the fucking house, filled with memories of us while you out on a date? You got me fucked up.” Kiyana threw her hands up and let out a long sigh. 

“So don’t stay here. Go to your place.”   Oh this bitch, Josh thought, knowing better than to call her that out loud. 

“Bye Kiyana.” Her jaw dropped open as she turned his back to her and stomped towards his car. 

“Fuck you Josh!” She yelled at him, not caring about the neighbors, flipping  him off as he got in his car and drove away. 

Joe let out a sigh as he pulled up to his destination. Making sure he had his phone and wallet he exited his car and walked up to the front door, knocking three times. 

“Oh shit, big Uce! Whatchu’ doing here?” Jon said as he dapped up his older cousin. 

Joe smiled. “Just decided to take a drive and clear my head.” Joe lied and Jon furrowed his eyebrows. 

“From Miami?” He asked, moving to the side and letting Joe into his home. 

“Nah, I've been in town for a couple days.” He lied again. “Wanted to see my folks.”  Joe stated as he sat on the couch with Jon. “Decided to come and see what my favorite cousin has been up to.” 

“Now I know ya’ ass is lying.” Jon laughed. “Whatchu’ really doing here Uce?"

“Alright, Alright.” Joe muttered, wiping his hands on his gray sweatpants. “I know Josh is your brother and all but fuck, i’m here to see Kiyana.” Trinity, who just entered the living room, shared a look with her husband. “No. Don’t look at eachother like that. I just want to make sure she’s good. She hasn’t been answering my text or phone calls.” 

“I mean, can you blame her?” Trinity spoke up. “I’m pretty sure she is only still in contact with Josh because of their kids. Look,” Trinity sighed, sitting down next to Joe. “Josh is already making it hard for her, she doesn’t need you popping up and making it worse.” 

“How can I make it worse by checking up on my friend Trinity?”

“Y’all are not friends anymore Joe. The second y’all had sex, y’all stopped being friends.”  Joe opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of the front door opening and slamming caught their attention. 

“A fuckin' date! Divorced for 2 weeks and she has a fucking date!” Josh ranted as he stomped into the living room, stopping short at the sight of Joe sitting on the couch. Josh immediately jumped to conclusions, Kiyana had a date and Joe just so happened to be in Pensacola. “Imma kill you.” Josh muttered before lunging towards Joe. 

Luckily, Jon was quick and grabbed Josh before he could land a punch.  “Of fuck off!” Joe snorted standing up. “It was six months ago and y’all are divorced now. Get over it.” 

“Get over it?! You’re going on a date with my wife and you’re telling me to get over it!”

Oh my god.” Trinity muttered, rolling her eyes. “She’s not going on a date with Joe dummy. And even if she was, she’s a single woman now. You want her to be single the rest of her life? It’s stupid as hell. She’s allowed to move on Josh.” Josh sucked his teeth and pushed Jon off of him. 

“Whatever.” He muttered, throwing a glare at Joe  before stomping his way back out of the house, slamming the door behind him. 

“STOP SLAMMING MY DAMN DOOR!” 

Kiyana stared at herself in her bedroom mirror. “You can do this.” She whispered as she took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress. She was beyond nervous for her date with Eli. This was her first date with another guy in twenty-three years. Her stomach was already in knots. 

 Walking into the living room, she rolled her eyes as Samara catcalled at her. After Josh’s little tantrum earlier, Kiyana called her best friend who was more than happy to spend the evening with her nephews. 

“Good, it looks easy to take off.” Kiyana rolled her eyes again with a chuckle. 

“I’m not having sex with him.” 

“Booo!” Samara threw a couch pillow at Kiyana. “Why the hell not? Just get it over with.” 

“Because it’s our first date Samara.” Kiyana laughed as she walked over to the bar cart to pour herself a shot of Hennessy. “I don’t want him to think I'm easy.” 

Before Samara could respond there was a knock on her front door, causing the both of them to look at each other in confusion. 

“I thought you said eight.” Samara said, looking at the clock on her phone. 

“He’s early,” Kiyana responded, before walking over to the font door and opening it, her heart rate picking up when she saw who was standing on the other side. 

“Joe?” Kiyana whispered, shocked that he was standing in front of her. 

“JOE?!” She heard Samara yell out. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Joe shrugged and placed his hands in the pockets of his gray sweats, “I came to see if you were alright. You haven’t been responding to my texts.” 

“I’ve been busy.” Was all Kiyana said and Joe narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Kiyana -”  He was cut off by the sound of someone’s car tires screeching to a stop in front of her house. 

“You can’t go on the date.” Joe called out as he exited his car and made his way up to the house, standing right next to Joe. Kiyana looked between the two men with wide eyes. 

“Excuse me?” She asked and by now Samara had made her way to the foyer and was watching the mess unfold. 

“Uh, Is everything okay Kiyana?”  Oh what the fuck Kiyana thought as Joe and Josh turned to look at Eli who was walking up to them holding a bouquet of red roses. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Joe and Josh asked at the same time. 

“Elijah, who the fuck are y’all?”  Kiyana turned to glare at Samara when she started laughing. 

“I can’t do this.” Kiyana muttered, as she started to rub her temples.  This could not be happening to her right now. What were the odds of all three of them showing up at the same time tonight?!

LMAO. I would probably just turn around and go back in the house if I was Kiyana 😭

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[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and cream Presents: ✨While you were away✨

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count:

Notes: Okay so imma be honest lmao, things are going to start to slow down on my writing, as in like I just need a minute to lie in bed and contemplate my life. I mean not really lying in bed but I’m just you know ✨going through it✨ Rn and I just need to breathe. So updating might slow down but I’m definitely still working on everything and requests

The week before 

Eddie hadn’t been to a chapel in a while.

He sits in the back row, just… staring. He’d stopped praying a bit ago after tears had started to fall. He didn’t have time for that, he didn’t have time for his own sorrows, not with Maddie here right now. He wiped them away just as fast as they came 

“What did I do to deserve this one?” He asks quietly, slouching down in the pew and laying his head back. It had been four weeks since you’d slipped into that weird ass coma. And they kept telling him, that you’d wake up soon. And he watched your cousins come in, trying to be hopeful and cheer him up and get him to go home. But how could he go home? How could he leave you when this was his fault? 

Bobby always told him to control his temper

And he’d stupidly pulled Buck into it with him. Buck had already sworn up and down, left and right that had he seen that asshole doing that to any woman he’d have still done something about it. Not to mention you were his cousin, his sister. He’d have jumped that guy with or without Eddie, Eddie had just happened to get there first. 

And poor Maddie, getting that call at two in the morning. She’d cursed you and Eddie out in the ambulance as she woke up Chim, but you two were busy laughing about it because you were proud of Eddie. The paramedic had to keep pulling you two apart when you’d get too handsy because he kept getting in the way or you’d turn when you shouldn’t have 

You were weak, but you were awake. 

Would you still be proud of him, knowing he didn’t protect you from this? 

“Still torturing yourself?”

Eddie looks up as Dr. Din walks in, plopping on the seat next to him, his hands in his coat pockets 

“No…” 

“You gonna lie in the house of god?” He smirks a little and Eddie chuckles quietly 

“It’s fine. I’ve already had the worst happen to me. What else could he do?” 

“She’s not dead, Eddie” he shakes his head, biting his lip “She’s gonna wake up”

“I mean you keep saying that, but there’s no change. I can read her vitals, Joel, I’m not- I’m not stupid”

“I think you are. Who’s the Doctor here Eddie?” He gestures “She’s gonna wake up” 

“You promise?” Eddie asks quietly and Joel looks away

“Yeah” 

“You know you can’t do that right” Eddie chuckles and shrugs 

“Yeah I know” 

“I’ll never forgive you if she doesn’t”

“Good. Maybe you’ll be able to forgive yourself instead” 

They sit together for a while, and eventually, Eddie lays his head on Joel’s shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. They hadn’t meant to become close, if anything Joel shouldn’t even be on your case anymore. 

You looked too much like her

You sounded too much like her 

You laughed too much like her

He hears a soft snore, Eddie’s finally fallen asleep, he’d hardly been sleeping lately, and sure as hell wasn’t eating. All he could do was watch him die slowly along with the love of his life. You weren’t going to die, Joel knew that. It was his job to know that! But things weren’t as promising as they used to be. He hadn’t brought up the possibility of pulling the plug, because that couldn’t legally be Eddie’s decision, it had to be Buck and Maddie’s, and he couldn’t do that to them, not yet. He’d bring it up in a week or two… he just wanted more time. 

Eddie wakes up to the sound of a pager going off, both men startle awake and Eddie sits up, scrubbing his hands over his face, Joel hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep 

“I’m sorry” he mumbles and Joel smiles, getting up and stretching 

“No that’s okay. I needed a break anyway” 

“You’re a horrible doctor” Eddie snorts and Joel kicks his leg 

“You’re a horrible boyfriend” 

Eddie flicks him off as he stares at his pager 

“What??” He whispers, grabbing the phone from the wall and dialing 

“You left your phone in your other coat again didn’t you?” Eddie asks sarcastically, getting up and stretching too 

“Her vitals are changing??” Joel says into the phone and Eddie perks up, looking over curiously 

“We’re on our way” 

He hangs up, waving Eddie along with him and Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach 

“What’s going on??” He asks as they jog through the hallways down to your room. Maddie is standing by your bed, stroking your arm as a nurse checks her over. Joel walks over to the computer, studying your vitals closer 

“I- I’ve been here so long” Maddie laughs a bit crazily “Maybe I was wrong” 

“No, no you weren’t wrong,” Joel says, covering his mouth, laughing a little 

“Can someone please tell me what’s happening??” Eddie sounds broken and Joel turns to him quickly 

“Her vitals, they’re just?? Different. She’s got a lot more activity going on now” he explains it as plainly as possible to him because even he can’t figure it out right now.  

He steps aside to show Eddie the computer and Maddie holds your hand tightly 

“It just started a bit ago I think, I’m not sure when. But her heart rate picked up for a bit and she started breathing easier, it took a while for me to think I wasn’t just seeing things” 

Huh, kind of around the time Eddie had been crying. 

“You weren’t, she’s… she’s waking up Eddie” Joel runs his hands through his hair, Eddie notices the way they shake but he’s not going to say anything about it 

Not when he’s staring at you, knowing your vitals are stronger now. He takes your hand, kissing it softly and folding it closed around his 

“Come on baby wake up for me,” he says softly “Wanna see those pretty eyes again… wanna hear you say my name. Please wake up for me Y/N. I need you” 

Joel and Maddie ignore his voice cracking. He’s not going to break in front of them, they know that, but Maddie is worried. He’s gotta break soon, he has to. 

Two nights before 

Eddie shouldn’t have yelled at Buck. 

He knows that. 

He feels miserable for it.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Eddie asks you as you lay there, peaceful as ever 

“I know okay, I know” he talks to you like you’re there “I know he’s just trying to help but I’ve had it! I’ve fucking had it. I’m fine! Why can’t anyone see that?!” 

He takes your empty water cup and throws it across the room. It doesn’t fly very well and really it’s unsatisfying but he can’t exactly go apeshit like he wants to

Buck hadn’t even done anything?? He legit just said “Hey I got that change of clothes for you but I left them in the car can you go get them”

“I should have just gone and got them.  I should have. Now he went to go get them…to give me space!” 

He looks at you, his hands on his hips “I know I’m a jackass”

He swears with every bone in his body, that he saw you crack a smile, he saw the littlest tiny smile on your lips. 

“Don’t you smirk at me” he points at you and you remain still, lifeless.

“Please smirk at me…” he whispers softly, running his hands through his already messy hair. He looks awful he knows he does. His hair is greasy, his clothes definitely need a wash, and he’s not even sure when he last changed them out with Buck

“When you wake up I’m going to introduce you to my Aunt. I should have already, honestly… but I just wasn’t ready. She um… she asked to come see you, but I know you’d want to be awake for that. I know you’d want to stress over it and be ready for it… probably make them something special for dinner” 

He rubs your thigh soothingly and smiles a little 

“I can’t wait to cook with you, I’m gonna mess with you too, I bet you’d love it if I was just wearing an apron” he chuckles to himself “Oh I know you’d love that, totally gonna do that for you” 

The next time he thinks he’s crazy is a few hours later when he comes out of the shower and your eyes are open. It’s such a fleeting second too, one minute he’s looking at you? Your eyes open and when he turns to go to the door, he’s convinced he’s seeing things because they’re closed again. He doesn’t tell anyone… he doesn’t want them to take him away, because the hospital could forcibly remove him 

“How would I sound?” He laughs humorlessly “I swear I saw her eyes open!” He climbs onto the bed next to you, laying his head on your shoulder and sighing 

“I had a dream about us… we were getting married. I’ve never seen you look so beautiful… I’ve never cried in front of that many people” he chuckles quietly “But I couldn’t help it… everything I’ve ever wanted, right there… walking down the aisle towards me on Bobby’s arm…. Promise me it’ll happen Sugar Cube. Promise me you’ll wake up… and we’ll get married” 

“Did you just propose to her?” Buck stands in the doorway and he turns back to face him 

“Not exactly…” 

“Do you want me to help you plan it?” Buck comes in, shutting the door and leaning against it 

Eddie gets out of bed and comes over to him, pulling him forward into his arms 

“Yes please” 

“I love you, Eddie, I really do. You gotta believe that”

“I love you too man, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” Buck feels Eddie sag a bit in his arms and he holds him even tighter 

“It’s okay… brothers fight right?” 

“Right… right” Eddie sniffles a little and pats his back “Brothers fight” 

They sit together for a while, staring at you, deep in their own thoughts

“You wanna know something crazy?” Buck says quietly after a bit and leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Sure” Eddie puts his head on Buck’s and sighs 

“I was totally hallucinating the other day” he chuckles quietly “I haven’t been sleeping… haven’t been taking care of myself… depriving Tommy of me-“

Eddie snorts 

“And I was telling her about him… like I do you know. And I swear, I swear she smiled” 

Buck feels Eddie freeze up 

“You- y-you saw her do what??” He sits up and looks at Buck 

“I’m sorry Eddie I-“

“No so did I! Her eyes opened for a second too??” 

“They did?!” Buck sounds just as excited as he does and he hugs him again, they’re practically crushing each other at this point 

“They did, oh god they did I swear” 

“I believe you man, I believe you,” Buck says,  sniffling into his shoulder 

“She’s gonna wake up Eddie, she really is. We should tell Joel” 

“I don’t know… I don’t… I don’t want him to think we’re crazy” Eddie chuckles humorously 

“Who would think who was crazy?” Dr. Din comes in, looking at his tablet. He looks up to see Buck and Eddie, holding each other 

“Uhhh…should I come back later?” 

“Oh my god” Eddie pushes Buck away 

“Why does everyone keep saying that!!!” Buck slaps his hands over his face 

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

every dead-end street

(robert aeor high au p12)

masterpost

*bonks this on you in a rush cuz imma be outta town the next 5 days or so*

He hears the door swing shut behind him, and turns to find Owen, pulling on his coat and jumping down the steps. Scott follows, the aching familiarity of the situation tainted by the gap that’s somehow grown acres between them, stifling the cool breeze that tosses Owen’s hair this way and that.

or, owen and scott reunion!!! also im not sure but this is possibly the longest chapter yet so :3

(5913 words)

Scott wakes in a cocoon of yellow feathers. 

His face is pressed to someone’s chest, his arms wrapped around their middle and his hands pressed into their hair, legs intertwined with theirs, so familiar his heart aches.

Jimmy.

His eyes flash open as he realizes it’s him, the events of last night coming back to his mind in full, blazing technicolor. Lips and hands and warm, warm skin against his frozen exterior. Whispers and promises and episodes of goddamn High School Musical: The Musical: The Series.

He doesn’t want to move from his entangled position, it’s warm here, it’s safe. He doesn’t want to give it up, he’s so sure it was just a lapse of judgment on Jimmy’s part, but maybe if he stays still for a little while longer he can keep living in the fantasy. He clutches Jim tighter, nestling his face into the avian’s chest, breathing in the citrusy scent that he carries everywhere.

A pair of hands cup his chin and soft lips kiss his forehead. “Morning, Scott,” Jimmy’s familiar voice whispers, quiet and low, against his brow. Scott makes a muffled noise of protest, squeezing his eyes shut again, vaguely muttering something about how it’s too early and can they please just stay laying down for a bit longer.

Scott honestly can’t believe that he and Jimmy are, like, an item. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a mistake. Somehow, by some miracle, Jimmy likes him. Jimmy kissed him last night, something he never thought would happen from anyone, much less the boy he was so sure he’d ruined things with such a long time ago.

 Scott thinks he might have a boyfriend. And as much as he wants to stay wrapped up in Jimmy’s wings forever, his anxiety will never let him settle down into the comfort if he doesn’t get a few things straight.

“Jimmy,” Scott says, pulling himself up and immediately regretting it, because now he’s vulnerable and exposed to the world, upright under the blankets in his favorite blue nightgown.

“That is my name, yes,” Jimmy says sarcastically, yawning as he sits up as well, his wings floofing out behind him, somehow wrapping around Scott yet again.

“So are we dating now?” Scott’s hands irrationally shake as he asks this, it’s such a stupid question given the circumstances-

“I mean. We literally spent last night making out? So I would hope so, yes?” Jimmy answers, affectionate confusion leaking into his voice.

“I was just- you know- making sure,” Scott rolls his eyes, trying to presume his comfortable icy exterior, and from the look on Jimmy’s face, failing miserably.

“Mhm. Sure.” The avian pats Scott condescendingly on the shoulder, his face the worst facsimile of seriousness Scott has ever seen.

“I hate you,” Scott grumbles, pulling his face into a mock pout and crossing his arms with a huff, which just causes Jimmy to snicker even more.

“Love you too,” Jim smiles, what Scott thinks to be a genuine tone hidden underneath the snark . “So what’s the plan for today?”

Scott looks off into the distance, out Jimmy’s window at the rows of trees crossing through suburbia, his hands wrapped around each other so tightly he can see the knuckles turning even paler than his natural skin tone. “I… actually, I have something I need to do before anything else, but after that I’m free for whatever.” He can hear his voice shaking, and he’s sure it’s even more obvious to Jimmy, who plops back down and rests a hand on his back- which does calm him, though admittedly not much.

“Want me to come along?” Jim asks, his tone soft and unforceful.

Scott shakes his head. “Not this time.”

Jimmy nods. “I get it.” And the thing is, Scott can tell that he does.

--

It’s a long walk up the familiar neighborhood streets, all the turns imprinted permanently in Scott’s memory from years and years of walking the same routes around this stupid city. His feet scuff along the pavement, the sun shining down from a cloudless blue sky. The leaves are just starting to turn for autumn, tinges of yellow and orange peeking around the corners of imposing maple trees, the wind combing through branches to create a cacophony of rustling sound.

It’s been a while since Scott’s been in this part of town, and there’s a good reason why. It’s honestly terrifying, being so close to where it all happened, and Scott doesn’t even notice he’s shaking until he wraps his arms around himself for comfort. A part of him, and not an insignificant part either, wishes Jimmy was here to make things easier- and most of the time, that’s exactly what the avian does. But right now, with what he’s about to do, he knows that having Jimmy there would absolutely ruin any chances of reconciliation.

He’s been so lost in his thoughts that he walks right past his destination, before doing a double take and turning on his heel, walking back and standing right in front of a tan-colored, two-story house. It’s been so fucking long since he’s walked up these steps, knocked on the paint-peeling door, a familiar orange tiefling grin peeking out at him from behind him. It’s been so fucking long since he’s seen Owen at all, and he misses him more than he’d care to admit. He stands there, rooted still to the sidewalk, swallowing nervously, for what feels like hours, the seconds dragging by with every beat of his heart.

It’s not too late. He could turn back, head home and spend a quiet, uneventful day with Jimmy, forget this ever happened.

For a second, he almost considers it.

But he knows he can never live with himself if he gives up, he’ll curse himself for the rest of his life if he lets himself walk back home. So instead, he steps up the decaying wooden stairs, the porch leaning heavily beneath his weight as he trods across it and raps his knuckles loudly against the door. Paint peels off beneath his touch, joining the first fallen leaves in the wind and tumbling across the street. Scott turns idly to watch it blow away, his neutral face hopefully not betraying his rabbiting heart.

And the door creaks open behind him.

His head snaps back quickly, meeting a familiar pair of eyes as they peer through the crack of the door at him.

“...Scott?” Owen asks, confusion lacing his voice, and, Scott hopes, a little happiness too.

“Hi.” Scott tries for a smile, but it doesn’t quite land, and he’s certainly not about to force one if it won’t come. “Would you care to join me on a walk?”

“Sure,” Owen mutters, glancing behind him into the house. “Let me grab my coat, I’ll be right with you.”

Scott nods, taking long strides over to the side of the porch and leaning up against the railing, as he’s done so many times before. This whole house, this whole street, gives him deja vu, the memories almost tangible around every corner. But with the nostalgia comes a deep, crunching anxiety; he can barely contain his fear that he’ll see Father walking down the road, snakes hissing forebodingly and that familiar sneer that’s somehow even colder than Scott’s skin. In fact, he can just make out the roof of his old home, the Major Mansion, from here, and even the simple sight gives him shivers down his spine.

He hears the door swing shut behind him, and turns to find Owen, pulling on his coat and jumping down the steps. Scott follows, the aching familiarity of the situation tainted by the gap that’s somehow grown acres between them, stifling the cool breeze that tosses Owen’s hair this way and that.

They walk in silence for a little, neither daring to speak, following the well-tread routes they’ve known since they were young, before they’d met; when the orange tiefling had just been a question living right down the road from Scott.

“So. Uh. How’s it been?” Scott asks, trying to keep his voice light and utterly failing, breaking quietly before he’s finished the sentence.

“How do you think?” Owen answers, for once not a trace of mirth on his face, his eyes full of annoyance and sadness and hope and loss, pointed stubbornly down at the pavement.

“I mean, you’ve kind of been ignoring me lately, so I wouldn’t really know,” Scott says, tone breezy enough to hide the anger simmering underneath. And that, that subtle, ignorable undertone, is enough to set it all ablaze.

“I’ve been ignoring you? Are you fucking kidding me?” Owen stares shocked, eyes wide and offended and more than a little bit angry.

“What else would you call” (Scott gestures to the space between them) “all this?”

“Pray tell, what would you consider ‘all this’?” Owen mocks his hand motions, making them seem wild and erratic, a judging, aloof expression blanketing his usually-smiling features.

“You know what I mean, Owen. You know me well enough to know what I’m talking about. The distance! The way we can’t even talk anymore, you ignore me all the time, don’t you know how hard my past many months have been?!” Scott seethes, dimly aware of the rims of his shades frosting over in the corners of his vision.

“What about me?” Owen grabs his shoulders and spins him around until their eyes have met, brown glaring into piercing cyan. “Have you asked even once, since you met Jimmy, how I’ve been doing? My parents are getting divorced, Scott, and I can’t even talk to my best friend about it.”

Scott’s struck momentarily speechless, because oh god, he didn't expect Owen to have a valid response, but quickly recovers, spitting, “You didn’t even try!”

“I did, though,” Owen sighs, kicking at the pavement. “I attempted to contact you about it on many separate occasions. But no, we always had to talk about you, you, you. Scott, you never even left me any room to get a word in edgewise!” He yells the last sentence, and Scott can see hints of tears in his eyes. Again, he’s slightly taken aback, he can remember maybe one time when he’s seen Owen cry, in all the years of them being best friends.

Maybe he doesn’t know the tiefling as well as he thought.

“I- How was I supposed to know, Owen? My dad kicked me out of the house and I had to move in with my crush. I had a lot on my plate, okay?” Scott fumbles, trying to find the right words, his confidence crumbling down rapidly.

“Apparently not enough to listen to your best friend’s problems in addition to talking about yours. I had my own shit going on, Scott, still do- and you couldn’t even be bothered to listen to it. And here you go again, talking about you. Like, I get it, okay? You’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry. Genuinely.” Owen pauses, turning around to face Scott. “But that doesn’t give you an excuse to neglect your duties as a friend. For a little bit, sure. But it’s been seven months.”

“Well, you didn’t-” Scott pauses midway through his sentence, breathing in deeply. “You know what, this is a stupid argument. Can we just forget about this? It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, Scott, actually, it does matter,” Owen hisses, broken and full of rage, his voice echoing across the neighborhood streets, earning him some nasty looks from passersby. “I love you, Scott, so much. You’re my best friend and I miss you. But I’m also your best friend, so sit down, take a second to think, and then tell me that you’ve been in the right here.”

“But-”

“Nope. Sit down by this tree and think.” Owen points authoritatively to the roots of an old oak sprouting out of the tree lawn, his mouth pursed, not giving room for an argument.

Fuming, Scott flops down, staring angrily through Owen’s knees. He’s not in the wrong. He’s had such a fucking tough time, nothing could possibly compare, his life has been tossed into the ocean and swallowed by a shark that was then gutted from the inside, its intestines held high for all to see. 

But that doesn’t diminish Owen’s suffering. 

Scott’s past few months have been hell, they have to be so much worse than whatever the heck’s going on with Owen. Like, Scott’s sure it’s been hard for him, but it can’t possibly have been as bad as Scott being kicked out of his house by his abusive father.

But that doesn’t mean Owen hasn’t had a hard time lately as well. 

Scott has been in such a dark place, such a terrible headspace, such a just generally horrific time in his life, Owen’s not allowed to pretend like everything’s been all diddly dandy for him when it’s been the polar fucking opposite.

But Owen is his best friend and Scott’s supposed to be there for him. 

Owen’s supposed to be there for Scott too, though! Scott and Owen are supposed to be a package deal, they’re supposed to stick by each other, Owen’s supposed to support Scott unconditionally. Isn’t that what friendship is? And yet, lately he hasn’t even been answering Scott’s texts.

Did Scott have time to respond to texts when he was being kicked out of his house? 

It’s different, though, it can’t have been as bad as that-

That doesn’t mean whatever Owen’s been through wasn’t still hard for him. 

Scott’s pain-

Pain is not a contest. 

It was worse-

Both of their different experiences are allowed to coexist. 

Owen’s been such a bad friend lately.

So has Scott.

…so has Scott.

Scott stands, his hands shaking.

“You done sulking? Are you ready to talk like an adult now, or-”

Before Owen finishes his sentence, Scott steps forward and wraps him in a strong, tight hug, the tiefling stiffening at first but then relaxing into Scott’s embrace, his arms reaching up to hug him back, his fists gripping the loose fabric of Scott’s dress.

“I’m sorry,” Scott whispers, the words scratching in his throat, something he hasn’t been saying enough recently. “I’ve not been the best friend lately, huh?”

“Neither have I, to be honest with you.” Owen laughs a silly little half-laugh, still clutching tightly against Scott’s back, and it feels so good, so right, to have his best friend pressed against him, the smell of his hair the same pinecone scent it’s always been, since the day they met.

“I thought you were convinced you were so ‘in the right’ here,” Scott teases, pulling away from Owen and poking him lightly in the chest, a clear sign of surrender that they both know well, unspoken but always mutually recognized- Scott can tell Owen sees it too, as he immediately relaxes.

“To be honest, I knew the only way I was going to get you to realize what was going on was if I acted like you were the only one who’d done anything wrong. Everyone just always has to go the extra mile for you, Scott S-smajor.” Owen’s trying to stay chipper, but Scott can hear the cracks in his voice, the raw emotion leaking through after months of holding it back.

And sure enough, just moments after finishing his words, Owen’s lower lip begins to quiver and he breaks down, sinking to the sidewalk and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, shaking his head with all the unspoken words, all the hardships he’s endured these past months. 

And this time, his best friend is right there beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Scott asks, sitting as well, and resting a hand lightly atop Owen’s shaking shoulder.

The tiefling nods, rattling sobs escaping from his throat. “Argh, Scott, I d-didn't mean to melt down on you, I’m s-sorry.” The way he says it breaks Scott’s heart, like Owen somehow thinks he’s done something wrong by letting all his emotions free-flow for a bit.

“Don’t be. You’re fine, I could not care less. Trust me, I’ve been there. So what’s the scoop? Also, mate, when was the last time you cried?”

That gets a laugh out of Owen, albeit a half-hearted, shaky one. “I don’t actually remember?”

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Scott asks, rubbing a hand over the nape of his neck. “We’re kind of blocking up the sidewalk.”

“Sure,” Owen mutters, pulling himself to his feet and rubbing aggressively at his eyes and breathing deeply to steady himself.

“So, what’s going on? Tell me everything, and I mean everything: I want the full rundown, all the details, the whole story.” This time, Scott means it.

And so Owen talks as they walk, ending up climbing the giant pine in his backyard and sitting amongst its branches like they have for as long as they’ve been friends. Owen explains how his parents have been arguing for a long time, really big, yelling arguments, and finally, after leaving the house in a huff and living in a motel for a week, Owen’s mom had finally called home- only to announce that she was ordering a divorce.

“That’s a shitty move,” Scott interjects, wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, it kind of was,” Owen agrees, sighing and leaning against the trunk of the tree, his tears having stopped for now, though his eyes are still red-rimmed and his nose still sniffy.

He continues on to explain how after that, it’s been weeks of alternating close contact or no contact with his mom, and his sisters, all nine of them, are absolutely emotionally lost. His other mother is struggling to bring home enough money to feed them all, and his mom is just draining all the money from the family bank account.

“It’s been really hard on all of us,” Owen mutters, wiping at his eyes aggressively. “Like, I love Mom and all, but she’s being a real bitch right now- she could have tried to stick it out with Mother, if only for me and my sisters. And that’s not something I say lightly.”

“Yeah, you really don’t like to swear,” Scott comments, stretching and cracking his neck.

“Yeah, no,” Owen laughs lightly, a cautious sound as if he’s afraid to show his genuine emotions, and Scott feels his teeth clench in sadness.

Owen goes on, finishing with the fact that his sisters are going to have to live with their grandparents for a while, and as of now, Owen doesn’t really have much of anywhere to go. His dad’s tried to explain that sending him to boarding school might be the best bet, but Owen’s having none of it.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” he admits, looking down and coughing gently, his feet kicking in wide arcs that stir up the twenty feet of empty air below them on the branches.

“So you can’t stay with your dad right now? Like, there’s not enough money?” Scott asks to clarify, leaning back against the tree, eyebrows furrowed, concerned, in Owen’s direction.

Owen shakes his head, lips drawn tight and eyes looking anywhere but Scott’s. “There’s really nothing to be done for it. I pretend I have a say in the situation, but deep down, I know that there’s really not another possibility at this point.”

“You could come live with me and Jimmy,” Scott spits out before he can catch himself, eyes going wide as he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, you don’t have too, obviously, but I’m sure John and Laura would have you, they took me in, and I know you and Jimmy don’t really get along and you blame him for a lot of things, but maybe give it a chance? Genuinely, Owen, I really, really don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave either,” the tiefling mumbles, a thickness to his voice that Scott rarely gets the privilege to hear. “But I’ve genuinely been such a jerk to Jimmy, Scott, like, he did nothing wrong. And I’m- I would love to live with you, and I mean this truly, but I don’t think Jimmy would have me. And if it’s you, him, and Beks now, I don’t know if there’s enough money or space for me.”

“Well, let’s just go check then,” Scott says, a smile growing across his face as he begins to descend from the tree.

“Wha- Scott, we can’t just go up to his house! And aren’t you and him all awkward and stuff? Like, after the whole kissing thing that you wouldn’t shut up about all those months ago?” Owen asks, scrambling to follow.

“No, uh, actually turns out he does like me. But that’s not important- plus, you forget, it’s also my house.” Scott drops down, his feet landing firmly on the hard-packed soil as Owen lands a little less nimbly besides him, taking a few stuttering steps forward before regaining his composure and grabbing Scott’s shoulders, staring him in the eyes.

“What. You’re dating. You and that little scrunkly bird man. Scott, you have a boyfriend?!” Owen yells the last sentence so loud that Scott flinches in an involuntary response, certain that all the neighbors are now listening in.

“Shut up,” Scott mutters, stepping out of Owen���s backyard and onto the sidewalk, turning back the way he’d come, back towards home.

“No. No I will not, when did this happen?” And there it goes again, a perfectly normal conversation turned to Scott’s business. He curses himself inwardly.

“Last night. Can we talk about something else instead? Because you just went off on a huge tangent about me talking about myself too much, so, you know, hypocritical much?”

“Scott, I didn’t mean you can never talk about yourself ever. Plus, we’ve just gone over my problems for like an hour, so I think you’re pretty much clear to rant to me about your boyfriend and how that all happened on the walk over to Jimmy’s… which I’m not quite sure about because we’re really not friends at all, why would he have me even if his parents are able to take me in…” Owen mutters the last sentence under his breath, still very obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Scott soothes. Though, he’s not sure in the slightest, to be honest, but Owen is his best friend and if he needs help, Scott wants to be the one to offer it.

But going back to the tiefling’s earlier comment on the way to his house, Scott tells Owen everything. Every little last detail, every grievance and the high points and the lows. The only thing he leaves out is the weird memory-sharing thing, because he and Jimmy haven’t even really talked about that yet, and they probably should before anything else.

He also doesn’t tell Owen that he’s apparently the reason Jimmy hasn’t-

The reason Jimmy’s not-

He shivers involuntarily, because even imagining Jimmy dead is just- it’s too much, a world where he doesn’t have Jimmy isn’t even something he’d like to theorize about right now. But it’s also none of Owen’s business, it was something told to Scott in confidence, and he’s definitely going to have to bring it up with Jimmy later because he wants to do everything and anything in his power to prevent something like that from happening.

He doesn’t know how he can live with himself if Jimmy confesses to Scott about his suicidal (Scott can’t even-) and Scott does nothing about it.

And then before he knows it, here they are, standing in front of Jimmy’s house. Owen shoots him one last worried glance, and Scott shakes his head, smiling gently. He grabs the tiefling’s wrist, pulling him up the stairs and through the door, until there they are, standing on the foyer.

“Jimmy!” Scott calls, cupping his hand around his mouth.

“I’m in the kitchen,” the avian yells back, and Scott nods encouragingly towards Owen, beckoning for him to follow as he heads into the kitchen. Owen does, albeit quite hesitantly.

“So. Uh. I brought a friend over,” Scott says, entering the kitchen and leaning up against the counters as he always does, Owen’s head peeking nervously around the corner.

“Oh!” Jimmy sounds quite surprised, and honestly, why shouldn’t he be? “Hey, Owen, how’s it going?”

“Um, not- not the best, honestly,” Owen mutters, rubbing his hand on the back of his head. “Welp! Thanks, Scott, for bringing me here, but I really should get going-”

As Owen turns to leave, Scott shoots out a hand to grab his shoulder, shaking his head admonishingly. Jimmy seems completely out of his depth, just standing there in an apron, absolutely covered in flour- Scott snickers silently at the bright smudge of white across Jimmy’s cheek, the powder dusting everywhere from the tips of his hair to the softest cadmium feathers of his wings.

“Owen,” Scott starts, glaring pointedly at the tiefling now stood awkwardly beside him, “has something to say.”

Glancing to his right, Owen bites his lip, breathing in deeply before he speaks. “So. Hi, Jimmy- um. Shoot, I’m no good at this- give me a second?” he laughs clumsily, fumbling for words that aren’t there. Scott rests a gentle hand on his shoulder, silent support that seems to help, as Owen closes his eyes for a couple seconds, before opening them as well as his mouth and beginning to speak.

“Look, before I do anything, I just want to say I’m sorry.” His voice is strong, so much stronger than it was just a couple seconds ago, and Scott is honestly kind of shocked at the sudden switch. “I’ve been a jerk to you since the day we met. You did nothing to provoke my dislike and you didn’t deserve it. You’re a genuinely lovely person, and if I’m honest, I was jealous of you.

“I saw how close you and Scott were getting, how much he very obviously liked you- he still does. And I’m his best friend, I was used to getting the majority of his attention. And if I’m honest, I was worried that he’d hurt you. Scott hasn’t always had it easy, in fact, it’s been much harder than him for most. I was there to witness a lot of that and I won’t speak for him, but I’ll just say that there have been days where even I couldn’t cheer him up.” Jimmy’s listening intently, Scott can tell, his ear feathers are pricked up and his wings relaxed as he leans forward on his hands to hear, nodding along to all the important parts.

“And you did. On the days where I failed, you made him happy. And I was angry and confused and jealous and just… I was worried, I guess, for my best friend. You were such a beacon to him, we could all see it, me and Shelby and even Joel, who’s pretty much the least emotionally intelligent person on the planet. I think we all knew if you hurt Scott, it would be such a genuine blow to him. And I didn’t want that to happen. But I was also really annoyed that I couldn’t be the beacon that you were, I was angry that he was moving away from me.”

Scott’s eyebrows crease, because everything Owen is saying is completely and utterly true. In other circumstances, he would be furious at being spoken about like this right in front of him, but what Owen’s saying is such a complete and utter reading of him that he can’t muster up the anger.

“All he would talk about was you. And I was fed up. So I hated you and I was a huge jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of that. So, I’m sorry. I just need to get that out of the way before Scott reveals his big fancy plan or whatever he wants to call it. Just to clarify, what he’s about to say was completely his idea, I had no say in any of this, he just dumped it on me- and also sorry Scott for talking about you like you’re not there when you’re right next to me. And also possibly spilling all your secrets to Jim.” Owen bumps Scott’s shoulder with his own, and the gorgon shakes his head, rolling his eyes affectionately.

“But, yeah, I’m sorry,” Owen mutters, his tone back to serious, tail flicking gently behind him. “I sucked and I was really rude to you. I hope you can accept my apology.”

Jimmy presses his hand to his face. “You were really rude to me.”

Owen cringes, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together forcefully.

“And…” Jimmy trails off, sighing deeply and staring off into space. Owen and Scott share a quick glance, and Scott has to admit, he has no idea what Jimmy’s about to say.

“And because I’m a nice guy, and you’re Scott’s best friend, I’ll give you a second chance. What do you say? Friends?” The avian extends his hand and Scott can barely believe it, this is what he’s wanted for so long, they’re finally getting along.

“Friends,” Owen agrees, stepping forward to bridge the gap, firmly shaking Jimmy’s hand before the avian pulls him into a seemingly unexpected hug, as Owen’s eyes go wide before he somewhat awkwardly hugs back. 

“So… what now?” Owen whispers, now back standing by Scott’s side.

“Now I get to talk,” Scott answers, moving forward and leaning against his arms pressed against the island.

“Jimmy, would John and Laura be open to taking another person in? Not for long, just for a little bit. We could set up a tent in the backyard or something, Owen just needs a place to stay for a while. There’s some shit going on with his parents and the alternative is him being sent to boarding school. And I know it’s a lot to ask and it was completely my idea, Owen had nothing to do with this scheme of mine at all, he was actually very against it.”

“And for good reason,” Owen interjects, “It’s way too early to ask you anything like that.”

“Anything like what?”

John’s voice intersects into the conversation as he enters the kitchen, Beks and Laura in his trail, heavy-looking grocery bags hanging from all their arms. John plops down his bags on the counter, crossing his arms and looking over at Owen. “Well, who’s this, then?”

“That’s Owen,” Scott reassures, resting a hand on the tiefling’s shoulder. “He’s my best friend- you know about him, he’s friends with Shelby and Joel and all of us.”

“So what do I owe the pleasure, Owen?” Laura’s reedy voice is much calmer than John’s, and Owen’s shoulders visibly relax.

“Oh, um, I was just-”

“I want him to live here,” Scott interrupts, eyes shining with hope. “Just for a short amount of time, but otherwise he leaves for boarding school, and I don’t want that, he’s my best friend.”

Laura sighs and rubs her hands against her temples, leaning back against the wall and exchanging a meaningful glance with John. “Scott, honey, we’re already taking care of three of you, I just- we’re stretched thin enough already, you know? And where would he stay, we have no room?”

“He could stay in the backyard, in a tent, and we could all get jobs to pitch in around the house!” Scott’s not going to let this go, he can’t let Owen leave, not after they’ve just fixed things, he can’t-

“To be honest with you, and this is going to sound really selfish,” Beks starts, “I really don’t need to share my house with another weird boy I don’t even know.” Jimmy flinches slightly, almost imperceptibly, at her statement.

“That’s kind of uncalled for, Beks,” Jimmy mutters before Scott can say anything, his wings drawn protectively around him. “That’s- I dunno, that feels kind of like a terrible thing for you to say?”

“Yes, Beky, that’s out of line. We’re going to have to talk about that later,” John cuts in, his beefy dad arms folded across his chest. “But regardless, Scott, I’m so sorry-”

“No.” Scott’s voice is tiny, shaking and trembling like the leaves he’s seen today, blowing away in the wind, with no power of their own.

“-but Owen cannot stay.”

“No!” Scott runs after John as he makes his way upstairs, brushing the unwanted tears aggressively out of his eyes. “John, you don’t understand, if he doesn’t stay here he has to leave, and he can’t leave, he’s my best friend, he’s one of the only people who understands me and we just fixed things between us, please, you let me stay, why not Owen?”

John sighs, rubbing his temples. “Scott, you need to understand. If we take Owen in, and as much as I wish we could, we’ll have four teenagers to take care of. Do you know how much even one of you hooligans eat? Even with Bek, we were struggling. Then she found Jimmy, alone on the street, and it wasn’t like we could turn him down.”

Scott’s given up trying to stop the tears because he is sobbing now, he doesn’t want to lose his friend he can’t they don’t understand no one understands Owen is the only reason why he hasn’t cut himself off completely Owen is the person he cares about the most on the entire planet and they don’t get it, if he doesn’t stay here in this house with Scott he leaves. Owen has to leave.

“Then you showed up. We were hesitant, I’m not going to lie, but Laura convinced me that we should take you in. Both you and Jimmy were in very vulnerable spots when you came into our lives, both of you would still be homeless if not for us. But in addition to paying for food for all of you, you forget that we also have to pay for your school tuition. And we just can’t do that for another kid. I’m sorry, Scott.” This time when John ascends the stairs, his bedroom door slamming shut behind him, Scott doesn’t follow.

Instead, he runs out the door, his head throbbing and wishes pounding this way and that inside his mind. He doesn’t listen when Owen calls him back, pretends to not hear as Jimmy yells after him, asking where he’s going. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t care.

Scott just runs.

And he’s not surprised when he looks up, all out of breath, and finds himself right back in front of the Major family mansion. Right back to where it all fucking began.

Somehow, Scott’s not surprised at all as he closes his eyes, breathing deeply, and begins to walk down the cobbled path, through the all-too-perfect garden, glaring straight at the white marble building looming before him the whole time.

And not a bone in his body holds him back as he climbs the wide colonnade steps to his old home, rapping once, twice, three times on the “M”-emblazoned door, his knuckles almost vibrating from contact with the stone.

Scott’s not surprised that he came back here.

He is, however, very surprised that his mother, his siren, cult-leader mother, is the one who swings it open.

And it comes as even more of a shock when she wraps him in a strong, warm hug and ushers him inside.

[mageofseven]

Nesting with Birdie: A BarbMams Love Story

Chapter 2

Taglist: @astroseuss @fcxyviixen

Let me know if you'd like to join the taglist~

Barbatos laid in bed with his boyfriend for a while; fortunately, it was his day off today so the butler could stay with him.

The older demon felt so guilty. He was usually so on top of things, but being with Mammon seems to have relaxed him too much in this case.

He should have used protection. Mammon may not have realized he could become pregnant, but Barb most certainly knew his boyfriend had that ability

Yet when things become intimate between the two and Mammon gets so needy and desperate for him, part of the older demon's brain just shuts off and all that matters in that situation is giving his boyfriend everything he needs.

He thought nothing of it before but...in the pursuit of giving this man everything he needs, he forgot that protecting him from unfortunate circumstances was also important.

Mammon depends on their relationship being a secret; he's made that very clear to the butler and in truth, Barbatos has never minded one bit.

However...Mammon is right. Their relationship cannot stay secret with this child in the midst...

Which is why Barbatos brought up this topic.

"Birdie, we need to discuss this...situation." He spoke softly to the man in his arms.

"I don't wanna even think 'bout it..." Mammon mumbled from inside his boyfriend's chest.

"This problem will not go away simply by ignoring it."

"I know..."

Barbatos kissed the younger man's head.

"I understand the timing of this is poor and something you might not be able to handle," Barb stroked his back. "But you do have options and I will explore whichever ones you would like."

Mammon turned his head, laying his cheek against his boyfriend's chest instead of hiding his face.

"Ya know...I used to kinda want kids; still do, if I'm honest," Mammon spoke in a soft tone. "But in my mind that was justa future thing, somethin' for a hopefully better version of myself to do when I'm in a better place like having the whole debt problem squared away and all of my issues sorted out...but that ain't this. I'm still a fuckin' mess, same as always...how can I give a kid a good life like this?"

Barbatos pursed his lips.

"Your life is...indeed in a tricky place, but it does not have to stay there." The butler explained. "If you are ready to make some lifestyles changes to help matters, I am more than willing to support you with it."

"But can I actually change?" Mammon lightly gripped his boyfriend's shirt. "I can't do anything right. Imma screw up, a burden, so fuckin' stupid--"

"You are not stupid." Barbatos lightly scolded the younger man. "You are well aware how much that word bothers me, little bird."

The word just gave the older demon flashbacks of when he found Mammon on the hallway floor of HoL, sobbing while he pulled his hair and hit his head, calling himself 'stupid' over and over again.

That situation was the catalyst to their entire relationship; however, it still wasn't a fond memory for the butler. It only reminded him how helpless he felt watching the second brother cry like that...

"But I--"

"You make mistakes, same as everyone else." Barb insisted. "No matter what your brothers say, you are a very intelligent man and I refuse to let you keep believing otherwise."

Mammon's brothers have infected his brain at his own detriment. Those other men created the voice that speaks horrible words inside his boyfriend's head and it was painful to see how much it hurt the second brother.

Surely if the brothers realized the damage they did to Mammon with their words that they would cease their insults and be softer with the greed demon

Or so Barb believed. Still, the butler couldn't interfere until Mammon himself made the decision to speak about his feelings to his brothers.

Mammon just kept shaking his head, as if this action could knock the bad thoughts out of his mind.

"I can't do this, but also have no clue what to do 'bout it."

Barb rubbed his boyfriend's back.

"All I ask is that you give this some thought; you do not need to have an answer right this moment."

Mammon sighed.

"Yeah, yeah."

The couple spent the day inside and once the sun had set, the Avatar of Greed had to leave his boyfriend so Barbatos could get some sleep for work tomorrow and Mammon could get home to avoid too much suspicion.

Considering how things had...developed for these men today, the couple was extra reluctant to part from one another.

Most of the leaving process involved Mammon repeating over and over again how he had to go, all the while he was the one clinging to Barbatos and stealing kisses from the amused butler.

Mammon trudged back home to HoL and started heading to his room

Until he found all of his brothers in the living room, waiting for him.

"Uhhh, what's with all this?"

The second brother could feel the other men staring at him so intently that he instinctively covered his stomach with his arms, as if he was afraid his brothers could see right through his body and at the tiny flesh thing trying to become a baby.

"Mammon, we'd like to have a talk with you." Lucifer explained, making his brother sweat.

"W-What the hell did I do now??"

Oh shit, he was gonna get tied to the rafters again for something, wasn't he??

The brother was internally panicking and not just for himself, but his kid too. There's no way it does the baby any good for Mammon to have his insides smooshed against each other from the tight rope.

Mammon backed up in fear.

"Nothing." His older brother looked at him with suspicion, wondering if the greed demon has done something and was doing a poor job of concealing it. "However--"

"Omg just tell us!!" Asmo begged.

"What--"

"Last night you were cursing about being late and that 'babe' was gonna be pissed." Belphie explained. "You thought I was asleep on the couch at the time."

...shit.

Okay so actually he said 'Barb' and not 'babe' but still, Mammon was caught.

"It's not just your mumbling though." Lucifer explained. "For the last few months, you've been particularly rushed each Saturday night, only to return late each Sunday."

"So just tell us! Who are you dating??"

Ok, not he was majorly panicking.

The second brother made a few attempts to speak, only to find himself too tongue-tied and instead ran up to his room, slamming the door.

Mammon slid to the floor and hid his face in his hands.

"Gaaah, why now??" He stressed before hitting himself in the head. "Stupid, stupid, stu--"

The man lowered his hand and instead hid his face in his arms.

He can't be doing that. Barb would be so upset if he knew was sitting here, hitting himself and calling himself that word

But what else was he supposed to do when everything was falling apart?

[putyouonashirt]

got any games on your phone?

I’m not (phone vibrates) suicidal (phone vibrates) but the only thing that’s ever (phone vibrates) actually made me hate myself so much (phone vibrates) to the point where I spent hours romanticizing my own death (phone vibrates) is knowing that I gave my heart to her (phone vibrates) and she couldn’t even (phone vibrates) be responsible with it (phone vibrates). The night she cried (phone vibrates) on the phone telling me she hated (phone vibrates) herself I was in a fetal position crying with (phone vibrates) her. That night I feel like she cornered (phone vibrates) me into telling her I love you I really don’t know what the point of that was anymore.

“just say it”

I guess this is something I’ve needed to (phone vibrates) get off my chest. I don’t talk to anyone anymore. In the pass I have been a bad lover totally careless with numerous hearts. I never did (phone vibrates) did shit like this tho. I can’t go five minutes (phone vibrates) without thinking about it and here I am (phone vibrates) thinking about how much of a (phone vibrates) loser I am in a hotel room all alone (phone vibrates).

Idk what’s worse. Having to deal with something as mentally traumatizing as that. Knowing this is your REAL worth. VIDEO GAME MORE IMPORTANT THAN STUPID MAN HEHE.

knowing that all of those friends you were so nice to actually didn’t give a fuck about you and will always come before you.

how easy someone can throw you away for money.

being forced to tell someone you love them when you wanted to do it in person at the Selena bridge

knowing you lost your best friend and they don’t give a shit.

realizing you were never a priority

I guess that’s all I have to say about that.

Everyday every week I gave her the affirmation she deserved. I gave her the reassurance that no other woman came before her. Maybe if she had done the same thing instead of excuses oh my top gifter or reminds me to take my meds (so does your brother) this would be different. Hey, you’re my man. There’s no one else. Imma get my bag. You’re the only one for me. Why was that so hard? Why was it easier to come up with screen shots then affirmation? Am I truly that undeserving of love and affection?

Things would have been different.

Maybe don’t plan a whole meet up with someone weeks in advance then tell your boyfriend the night before you’re going to do it. Yeah man cry in front of your friends let them think I’m the bad guy. Easier for them to convince you to leave me. Please show them how I’m controlling your life and how I don’t want you to make money or have friend. Doesn’t matter. Their opinions and the opinions of those who give you money will always come before a loser like me. You got what you wanted. You no longer have to put up with me ( a ugly fucking loser). Sorry I held you back for months.

Money > a fucking LOSER boyfriend

GAME OVER. YOU LOOSE.

[3d-dragon]

I'm sorry I'm not saying this to start up Discourse® or anything, especially since I'm neither in the Sherlock fandom or a johnlock shipper, but I am ace and I wanted to let u know that ace and aro are diff. Like, an ace person can still fall in love and have relationships and stuff ya know?

Its okay, and I know that ace an aro are different.

Like I know I shouldn’t read into it, it’s a stupid fandom thing, and they are a lot of ways to do the ship proper in a sense, like Sherlock could be respected as ace, and be shipped with john in an healthy poly ship ie sherlock x john x john’s wife, which would be amazing to see honestly. [ Sherlock is only romantic with john, john is romantic to sherlock and his wife, but only sexual with his wife, his wife is romantic and sexual with john, and is okay with john and sherlock’s romantic relationship]

But I’ve never seen that, and canonly in the books [from what I know] Sherlock never dates anyone, which can be seen as supporting idea of Sherlock originally being Aro Ace or something [I don’t think they had a word for it back in that day]

And yes Aro Ace people can be in a relationship with someone and be happy and it's important to know that, but it always feels like the fandom erases the ace part and has john cheat on his wife and just...

It pisses me off, and doesn’t help that the asshole who writes the show is well...an asshole. [Plus the actor is an asshole too....]And the worse part is that now that Sherlock might be returning and if it does it might start all up again...and I just...am not gonna be nice about it, I am so tired of asexual erasing, we asexuals have enough issues as is, and ITS 2017 STOP ERASING US.Sorry about ranting and being a bit of a butt, but all they do is be like ‘Hey sherlock how come you don’t hook up with anyone?’ ‘I’m asexual’ ‘oh, okay wanna get a bagel?’ in the show and just that would be fine, hell if they wanted to be cool they could have sherlock know he is ace but wanting to explore romantic things with someone who isn’t married........but nah let’s just queer bait the folks and say cheating on your wife is okay and call it a day.Sigh......sorry again, but it just bothers me so much and I felt like I needed to explain it a bit better in a sense.

[frostbittenbucky]

Bruce Wayne

The Batman

The Dark Knight

Worlds Greatest Detective

Had fucked up

Bruce Wayne isn’t a slob, he’s not lazy- he is the complete opposite of his persona “Brucie Wayne”, who is a lazy pampered prince. But Bruce Wayne? Never.

So after Bruce finishes a snack he washes his dishes like any civilized human would do- or else Alfred would have some very choice words and some very petty actions towards him. It’s a simple task, take off his rings, run the water, apply the soap, scrub then rinse.

Simple.

But someone tell Bruce how the hell he managed to drop his ring down the drain? And someone tell Bruce why the didn’t stop for a moment and think before shoving his hand down the drain?

He fucked up. Now he’s stuck. But Bruce Wayne is a genius, he can get himself out of this silly situation. So he tries pulling... and pulling... and pulling. Ok, next option, lubricant. Soap will do. So Bruce proceeds to pour a generous amount of soap around his hand, he moves it around to make sure it’s coated, then he pulls. And pulls. Ok so next move.

What’s the next move?

He groaned loudly, thinking how utterly ridiculous and stupid this situation is. “Ok... dammit,” he muttered to himself. He decided to reach for his phone and-

Shit. It’s on the kitchen island directly behind him, where it’s just out of his reach. Why did he do that? Oh right, because he got water in his speaker last time. Right. Perfect. Wonderful.

“Alfred?” He called out, “Alfred, Damian are you still here?” No response. Shitshitshitshitshitgodammitshitshit.

Maybe he can reach his phone? He thought. So with all his grace he leaned towards to island, swishing at the air in hopes his phone would magically come into his hand. Nah.

Leg, his leg might reach. It’s longer than his arm, and his can get some torso length in there. Lifting his leg and leaning his body out he kicks at the counter, his brows furrowed. Fuck. Bruce is very flexible, but his leg and torso are extended to the fullest human capacity, and fuck why are these countered so spaced out?!

Bruce pulls his body back and lays his forehead on the cold countertop, trying to push down the rage that’s building up in his chest. This is stupid. This is so fucking stupid. “Is anybody home? Stephanie? Jason? Ca- not you, Titus,” He lifted his head from the counter and looked to his right, and there Titus stood in front of Bruce, wanting to investigate the noise. Seeing nothing interesting Titus tilted his head and gave a “boof” before turning out and leaving him to his own demise, “no wait,” Bruce reached out for the dog who already made up his mind.

So there he stood.

Bruce Wayne

The Batman

The Dark Knight

The Worlds Greatest Detective

Dumbass

Knowing he now has to swallow his pride and go into his next move, he groans loudly. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s called when it wasn’t anything life threatening. Sure, it’s rare, but it does happen. Plus, he always understands, and by now he knows the differences between help and help. But Bruce knew there would be consequences... because he isn’t scared of Bruce, all his intimidation tactics fall short, completely on deaf ears around him.

“Clark,” his voice sounded almost like a whine, his voice was a little hoarse from literally forcing the words past his lips, “if you’re not busy I need a hand.”

Just as soon as his finished his sentence Clark was stood in front of him, flannel, glasses, and cowboy boots, “howdy.” Bruce closed his eyes at Clark’s greeting, then opened them to send him a hard glare, “what’s seems to be the problem, Bruce?” A wide and knowing grin spread across Clark’s face. X-ray vision. No explanation needed. Sure friends help friends in their times of need. But best friends? Oh yea, Bruce had to earn his help by paying the high price of humiliation.

“Just hand me my phone, Clark,” pointing at the device just out of reach.

A shocked and confused looked replaced Clark’s smile, “oh, this? This phone right here?” He also pointed, walking to grab the device, “you don’t happen to have Face ID do you?”

“No, I w-“ It was a lie. Clark know had opened his phone just by turning it to Bruce’s face. A sigh left his body, was this price worth his freedom? Probably not.

“Hold on, B, I’m not dressed properly. This is a rescue after all,” and just in a blink of an eye Superman now stood in front of a tired looking Bruce, having no choice of his front vow seat the shit show that was about to unfold. Clark lifted the phone and snapped a couple selfies with Bruce, grinning his charming smile that the world adored him for. Bruce looked like a hungover raccoon, putting it kindly.

“Are your done? Just get me out and I’ll buy you a horse or something.”

“Aw, you do care. I knew you were listening when I told you about that pony farm,” Clark didn’t bother to look up from the phone, tapping away at the screen, “oh Bruce, your groupchat is named ‘family’?”

His eyes widen, “don’t you da-“

“-Isn’t Dick a firefighter? I think that he’s better for this job,” Clark announced, taking a seat on the island that just out of reach, “I hope you understand Mr. Wayne, I’m glad to offer help but them seems like a job for our local emergency service.”

“If you call 911,” Bruce growled, gritting his teeth together, leaning towards the other man and close as possible, “I swear.”

Scoffing, Clark waves him off, “of course not, why would I waste a 911 operators time? There’s people who need real help out there. I’m calling Dick directly.” Once again, is the price of freedom worth it?

————-

“Fireman Dick Grayson reporting for duty!” Cried his oldest child with two other firman following close behind, “hey pops I h- is that Superman?” He faked a gasped, clutching his chest.

The group chat had blown up by now. A series of text and FaceTime calls followed shortly after.

Damian: “Tt. Father this is utterly disappointing”

Bruce: “Sorry to be disappointing, kiddo”

Stephanie: “lmfaoooo I’m coming over. Be there in 10 don’t escape until I get there”

Jason: *screenshot of the photo of Superman and Bruce posted on Twitter with the caption: “when your dad panics and calls Superman”

Jason: *another screenshot of a multitude of replies along the lines, “what are you doing step bro?” “What are your doing Superman?”*

Duke: “the mighty Batman has finally met his match. A kitchen sink”

Cassandra: “😆😆😂🤣😬🤔🧠🤷🏻‍♀️💕💕💗💓💖”

Bruce: “thank you, Cassandra. I think.”

Stephanie: “imma do a live when I get there 🤣”

Tim: “you know we’re not going to let you live this down right b?”

Dick: “dumbasssssss”

Dick: “don’t worry B I’ll be there to rescue you shortly”

Bruce: “I can unadopt all of you.”

Alfred: “master Bruce, please word yourself properly. “Unadopt” isn’t a real word.”

Bruce: “Sorry, Alfred.”

So now that official rescue crew has arrived he expected this to be a quick and professional release. Nah. Dick, his oldest, his light in the dark, his son, his baby boy, is an asshole.

Dick started taking his own selfies with Bruce and Superman. Dick and Clark wore bright smiles, full of perfect teeth and glimmering eyes. Bruce, again, looked like a mess. He was wearing an old shirt, old sweatpants, no makeup on, his hair an untamed, scattered, frizzy mess. He should’ve conditioned, but he wasn’t expecting to go out today or have any photos done today.

The price of freedom is high, but not worth it.



[burnedbyshoto]

sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love. 

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off. 

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen. 

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you. 

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep. 

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress. 

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you. 

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex. 

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with. 

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones. 

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal. 

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible 

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress.  “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum. 

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it. 

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

[anystalker707]

Spicy horror

Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral

Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)

a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn

"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.

"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.

Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.

"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.

"I hate you," he laughs.

After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.

"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."

"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."

"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."

Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"

Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.

We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.

"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.

Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.

"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.

No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.

"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."

"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"

"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.

"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"

"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.

"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.

"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."

For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.

The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.

"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.

"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.

Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.

"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.

"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"

"Does it offend you?" I smile.

"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"

I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"

"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.

We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.

Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.

Frank yawns.

"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.

"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.

"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.

Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.

"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.

"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"

Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."

"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.

"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"

I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."

"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."

"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."

"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."

I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"

Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.

"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."

"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.

"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."

"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.

"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."

"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.

"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.

A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.

"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"

"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.

Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.

"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."

Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.

"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.

"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"

Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.

Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.

"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.

A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.

"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.

I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.

Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.

Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.

Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.

I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.

Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.

Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.

"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.

Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.

"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."

"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.

Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.

I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.

Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.

"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."

Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.

"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.

"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."

Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.

Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.

I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.

"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."

I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."

[jinkicake]

no thoughts just running away in a flowy gown through the streets of Italy from don giorno

((((anon... ANON... okay give me like ten minutes to post my other works and then Imma come back and just dump my entire BRAINROT that I have because of this post WAAIIITTT this is so good,,, you’re.... a genius))))

A/N: Okay..... this is so messy, so rough and I can’t believe I wrote 1.6k words in less than an hour BUT... here you are Anon~~~ a little something based off of your message hehehe it’s lowkey yandere :0 (Also... in part five theyre in naples right? LMFAO i can never remember) Anyway I have an early class tmr so I have to cut it short so this is not editied and -again- very messy,,, I will try to fix it later but for now~~~ here is my take on running away from Giorno LOL 

Giorno x Reader

This has lowkey yandere themes... 

WC- 1,637

All you want at this moment is to rip your constricting dress off. The thin, pale blue material is suffocating, every layer tightens around your skin and makes it that much harder to run. You’ll do anything to help you free yourself from Giorno’s clutches. And as of right now, you have your foot in the door. 

At least, you think you do. Unbeknownst to you, the little ladybug necklace adorning your neck has other thoughts. 

It was smart to leave (escape) in the early afternoon, right as your fiancé was in the midst of all of his meetings and when it was most crowded in the streets. You could easily blend in with all the other people, at least until nightfall. 

It has become your mission to get as far away from Naples as you can before the moon starts to rise. You quickly found out that is easier said than done. 

If only the streets weren’t filled with his men, if only every single person who makes eye contact with you wasn’t on his side. 

You knew that the moment Giorno had found out about this, about your betrayal, that there would be dire consequences. Yet again, it was never your intention to allow him to ever find you again. 

Given by your own personal estimation, you had about another five minutes before he was alert of your missing status. The guards stationed at your shared apartment change positions every twenty minutes to ensure that not one of them gets any special amount of time with you. The helicopter gaurds hovering over you were such a pain. Too bad you had already disposed of those on stand, it’ll be a quick affair once everyone notices your lack of presence. 

“Fuck,” You murmur as your flat, clearly not made for running, catches on one of the cracks in the street. Your chest heaves up and down with each breath as you stare at the unfamiliar crowd trying to pick up on any familiar face. A wave of relief washes over you when you realize that you don’t recognize any of them. 

You can do this, you can do this. Start over, somewhere new, somewhere like France or Switzerland. You can escape. 

And you truly believed that, you kept running with all of your might and didn’t stop to look back once. After some time, the streets started to mesh together and it felt as if you had started running around in circles. You didn’t have time to worry about that, not as the sun was setting and the streets were starting to clear up. Any leverage, any chance of escape that you had, would be lost if you did not make it out of Naples. 

Maybe you could find a bus that would take you up to Rome, then up and the hell away from Italy. Maybe a boat would be quicker, a motorcycle? 

All at once, your senses start to close in as you realize that you did not take advantage of your situation. You did not think this through, you saw a chance and you took it. You’ll fight until your last breathe, until Giorno finds you again. There is no way in hell you’re going to let this golden opportunity go to waste. 

But, God, had you fucked up. You fucked up, really bad, but deep in your heart you know it was worth every single second. 

It doesn’t matter how far or how fast you run now. 

The abandoned alleyways tell you everything you need to know, it’s now completely dark outside and late into the night. The streets are cleared, silent, except for the telltale sounds of your shoes lighting pounding into the pavement. 

You tightly bunch your hands up in the sides of your dress before pulling the fabric up and running with all of your might. You should have ditched the dress earlier, it was only ever holding you back but it’s not like you had another change of clothes. 

Giorno always liked you dressed up. 

Almost as if you were his little doll. 

A black car stops suddenly at the end of the street, blocking off the entire road and cutting through the silence with a loud screech of its tires. It’s not enough to intimidate you, you still refuse to give up. 

Almost too quickly you swiftly turn around, hot on your heels ready to run away, right into a broad chest. 

The black suit fills your vision before you can actually see the figure, but you can still feel their presence right away. You’re done for, you’re done for. 

“You ruined your pretty dress,” Giorno’s soft face portrays a frown as his eyebrows furrow in disinterest. His light eyes still hold concern only for you. He reaches his hand up to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheeks and you immediately flinch, taking a step back only to bump into something else.

This time you’re almost too scared to turn around, you would much rather face Giorno than the other figure. An unpleasant huff causes you to shakily glance over your shoulder and face Golden Experience Requiem. It’s staring down at you with betrayal deep in its eyes, hands twitching next to your own.

You couldn’t take the stand on even if you wanted to. 

You try to move, step away, but the stand is much quicker and grabs your biceps to hold you still. Its pants rest heavily in your ears and you don’t even dare to look up at Giorno who has started pacing in front of you. 

You feel so stupid, oh so stupid, the dress is filthy and dirty. Everything is torn at the seams, your shoes are worn down, your hair is flung all over your face, you’re a complete and utter mess. 

It only gets worse when you hear the robotic sounds behind you. Still gutted with betrayal, Golden Experience Requiem utters a single word in his polite tone that matches his user’s. 

“Why?” 

Your eyes slightly widen at this and as a result, the grip on your biceps grows tighter. 

“Why? Why?” The mechanic voice demands and you’re nearly shaking beneath its grip. Now, you know why Giorno is so silent. He never loses his composure in front of you, he is always calm and ahead, always one step in front of you. With his stand, however, he can’t help but express all his feelings as he desires. 

An apology feels heavy on your tongue because you’re not sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. 

“I wanted to go home.” You daringly lift your gaze to look straight at your fiancé, glaring at him as if it could make him disappear. 

“Then let’s, we can discuss the matters of this evening there,” Giorno takes a step toward you, and he is beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he waits for you to turn around and follow him. 

Your stubborn eyes, filled with tears, nearly makes him sigh. 

“Please don’t be difficult,” He tries to cup your face but his own stand pulls you tighter into its chest. Golden Experience Requiem has always been so possessive over you and never afraid to show it. Giorno knows that he couldn’t call his stand back even if he tried, not until you were safely in the car. 

“I want to go home.” You repeat, too calmly for your current panicked state. A long, cold arm drapes over your chest and you feel your feet start to rise against the hard road beneath you.

The stand is literally dragging you back to the car with no remorse. 

And stupidly, you make another mistake.

“Not with you,” At this point, you’re sure you won’t make it out of this experience alive. You keep making it worse and worse for yourself as if you can’t help it. 

Giorno stills, and the slight clench of his jaw is enough to have you sprinting back into his car. 

“Then with who?” He asks through his teeth, glaring harshly at the side of your face as you continue to look away from him. It’s not enough for him and he tightly grabs your jaw with his hand to force you to look at him. His fingers dig into your cheeks when you still refuse to look at him. “With who, darling?” 

No air is flowing through your system. You can’t concentrate on anything, not on the stand behind you tugging on your body possessively or your fiancé holding you just as angrily. 

“Myself,” You finally tell him honestly and look up at him, Giorno physically calms down at the sight. 

“I can take you there if it means you will stop acting out,” The offer, the bargain, falls short on your ears and a new frown takes up your face. 

Giorno is taunting you, teasing you.

You know there is no chance in hell he would let you go home, let you visit the place you miss the most. He knows he’ll never get you back if he does. Giorno is just using this to get you back in the car.

He’s done it once before, and this certainly won’t be the last time he does it either. 

“I will bring you there, (Y/N).” He restates and you stubbornly hold your place. “You don’t want to go anymore?” His jaw ticks and you can hear the irritation filling his voice. “It’s so hard to please you,” The tightening grip on your biceps shows his frustration even if he doesn’t physically face you with it. Golden Experience Requiem has you under lock and key, hugging you so tightly that you’re almost gasping for air. “One last chance.”

One last chance to take him up on his pseudo offer, to entertain his twisted fantasy. 

This is your split road, lick your fiancé’s wounds or let the gash grow bigger and bigger. 

Either way, you’ll end up back at his estate, now all that matters is the punishment waiting back for you. 

You can’t find it in yourself to move your legs. 

[dannyboy-writes]

Warmth

Pairing: Daenerys x reader (no pronouns nor indications of any gender)

Summary: What happens after Daenerys cheats on you with Jon

Warnings: Cheating?

Word count: 1451 (holy shit)

She didn’t know when she fell in love with you. Maybe it’d been when you stood up for her in front of Viserys, not caring the consequences it would bring. Perhaps when she saw you at the market in Astapor, buying food for the hungry children; or when her heart stopped just a bit longer as you offered yourself to fight the Meereenese champion.

She knew all she loved about you, that she did. How your eyes held more warmth when speaking to her. How your eyebrow raised a bit too high when you were intrigued. The sweetness you had with those you loved and the fear you imposed to those against you or those you cared for. How quickly you would hide the blooming emotions, rapidly putting on the mean, serious facade.

Not for her, never for her. She could always read you like a book, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, waiting to pour it out into the canvas.

But not now.

Now they were cold, and distant. And any special treatment she would’ve once gotten was gone.

It’d become obvious when you stepped foot in Winterfell. How their gazes were held in between them for a little too long, but were quickly dismissed. How she did and said things, as if searching for forgiveness within you.

Now your eyes were as cold as the snow around you two - if not more - and the distance between the both of you, although not literal, abysmal. Your tears threatening to fall, but being pulled back in.

She didn’t deserve them, not after this. You weren’t gonna give her that. You’d given her everything, you would’ve given her the world had she asked, but not tears. Oh, how you wanted to cry and scream. At everything and nothing, at the gods, at him. At her.

She knew it was a facade and that you were hurting beneath the cold demeanor, and that was probably what hurt her most. She’d lost the privilege to see the hidden emotions, to be able to see underneath the deceitful front. But she deserved it, she’d caused it.

-

“Where would you go, if you could go anywhere in the world?” Dany asked, eyes glistening with joy, pressing herself tighter to your embrace.

“I don’t know. Probably a nice house by the beach, with lots of trees and pretty sunsets. You?”

She stared into the dark blue of the ocean for a second, “I don’t know. I might join you in your beach house, if you’ll have me, of course.”

“I’ll always have you, Dany,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to her head.

-

Not anymore. It was all gone, all for a stupid mistake, all for a warm bed. But not even, because the man from the north wasn’t even half as soft as you were, and the cold of his fingertips froze her fire-blazed blood.

You had left the comfort and heat of the Winterfell castle against better judgment, and the icy weather was taking a toll on your under-protected body. You just couldn’t be there with them. Having to pretend nothing had happened, the unspoken topic everyone seemed to know about.

You’d heard her call for you and you figured she’d follow. Part of you wanted her to do so, to be able to forgive her; but your brain kept forbidding you from doing so, and the pain in your chest reminded you why.

“Please, come inside y/n. You’ll freeze without cover.” She was right. Leaving the castle into the unfamiliar iciness with only your leathers was not smart, but you still didn’t turn to face her, only holding your arms closer to yourself, as if it would force the heat not to leave your body.

You took a few more steps and coldly spat out, “I’m fine.” It was bullshit, of course, but what else was there to say? Anything there was she already knew, why say it?

Her following footsteps were the only audible thing besides your occasional sniffles and the howling of the wind. Now she wasn’t going to leave you alone? Now?

“Would you stop following me, please?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face her, “There’s a reason I left the castle, you know? If I’d known you’d follow me I wouldn’t have bothered getting in the snow at all.”

She stopped in her tracks the second the words left your lips, her face braced with hurt. She didn’t expect you to say this, but then again, she couldn’t really blame you. “I’m sorry,” she simply said. “I truly am, y/n. The last thing I wanted was hurting you.”

A scoff left you, “The last thing you wanted?” You searched her face for the joke to drop, but there was none. “It’s the only thing you did.” With that you walked past her, going somewhere warmer than the white snow, but were stopped by her. She held your arm tight, but not painfully, not letting you move. Well, if you tried you probably could, but there was no will to do so in your body.

“Please, y/n,” she looked at you, begging you to listen, and her hurt decreased slightly as you shifted in your spot crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at her.

“I can never take back what I’ve done, never. And asking you to forgive me is selfish, I know. I know,” she remarked. “But I am, asking you to forgive me, being selfish; I am. Because I love you, and I need you, and I was too blinded to see that, for which I’ll never be sorry enough. I wish I could go back and stop myself, I really do. And I understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me-”

“No.” You sternly said. Stopping at your sudden intervention, she started searching for hidden words in your face, finding none. “You don’t get to say that, you don’t get to say you understand and you can’t do anything. You- You don’t get to stop fighting for- For me, for us, you don’t.” She straightened her back with determination in her face and urged you to continue. “You don’t get to break my heart, apologize and move forward just like that.”

The look in your face was less menacing and more downcast, tears threatening to fall from your glimmering eyes. A slight tremble ever so often in the still cold environment. You weren’t sure what was colder, the snow or the situation. 

“So what now,” she asked, wanting nothing more than to fix things, to undo everything she’d done. “I want to fix this, what do you need me to do? Whatever you need, I’ll do it.” 

You stared at her, thinking your next words carefully, shifting in your position, your gaze turning from her apologetic face into the identical scenery. It would’ve been a lovely view had the circumstances been different. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you mumbled as her penetrating gaze grew smaller, filled with defeat. “I want to, I really do. It’s hard enough to have your heart broken but I can’t even bring myself to hate you, Dany.” A laugh fell off your lips but there was no happiness behind it, just pain, “It’d be much easier to hate you. To not feel my heart beg for mercy when I see you and him, but for some reason I can’t. And it hurts, it does- so much,” you stopped a second to look at her, finding her taking every single one of your words, however painful they were. 

There was silence after that statement, neither you nor Daenerys knowing what to say, sometimes it takes more than wanting to fix things to actually do so. Your mouth opened a few times without any words leaving your lips, but your mind settled on something. “I can’t promise it will all be roses. Or that I won’t be pissed, or that it will be easy, because it won’t.” She shook her head in understanding. There were no formalities anymore, no Queen and follower, just two broken people, holding onto a little bit of hope in all the despair. “But if you’re willing to not give up on this, on me, then maybe, just- maybe it can work. But I need you to work with me.”

She jumped into your arms, speaking into your neck, “I will, I will. I promise, y/n, I promise.” She would’ve done anything for a second chance with you. 

It wasn’t going to be easy, you both knew that. And it would be a rocky road, but you’d walk it together, and in the end it would be okay.

~

Requests are open and if y’all don’t stop me imma keep posting Dany cause I love her :)

[livelymon]

I posted my newest one shot earlier; here is the link if you prefer to read on Ao3. BUT, the fic is only 1.5k words so Imma just post it under the cut here, for those that prefer to read on Tumblr! Enjoy the time travel drama!

Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes; What’s the Difference?

 Tommy… doesn't know how to feel. The last two months were… wonderful. Genuinely some of the most fun he's ever had and… he was pretending to be someone else. These memories he's so fond of (these memories he knows the person involved is equally as fond of) can never be theirs. He had purposefully lied to him, and they still believed the lies even when there were glaring problems and inconsistencies with everything he’s said and done…

 The truth is Tommy hadn't been living in the right time for the past two months. According to Karl, the one who had brought him back home, he had slipped through a crack in time and landed centuries in the past. Tommy had figured that out quickly himself, what with being face to face with a little Technoblade not long after the jump through eras. 

 Techno had been tiny, barely ten years old, and so grateful that Tommy had saved him from a slave trader, that he refused to leave Tommy's side. Tommy hadn't known what to do (would this mess with time, had Techno meant to be caught there and saved later? Was Techno meant to free himself from the slavers?). He was confused, so he had stumbled around, like a new-born calf, allowing Techno to follow him like a baby duckling, while trying to reveal as little about himself as possible.

 When little Techno had asked how Tommy had gotten so strong, Tommy, flattered, couldn't resist teaching the kid the same techniques older Techno had taught him. When Techno was struggling to go to sleep, he'd tell the Greek myths he knew future Techno favoured. When Techno started feeling confident enough to ask Tommy questions about his life, Tommy realised there was something… wrong about everything going on.

 Tommy and Wilbur were Phil's kids and Techno was Phil's much cooler friend that, while growing up, both Tommy and Wilbur were always trying to get the approval of. Techno would indulge them, but it only ever seemed to be for Phil's benefit. Tommy had asked Techno once why Techno seemed to put everything aside for Phil, and Techno had happily shared a story from before Techno was as immortal as Tommy’s dad. A story where Phil had saved him, had travelled with him, taught him how to fight and told him amazing stories. Techno spoke like he wouldn't have the life he has now if it wasn't for Phil, that he'd never have tried for immortality if Phil wasn't there, and Tommy had thought maybe his dad was a little cooler than he initially thought.

 (If Phil was ever asked how they first met, he'd talk of a realm a bunch of immortals were forced into for the amusement of the Gods. Talk about an Empire they worked on together to be able to survive it all. Tommy would always notice a sad gleam in Techno's eyes when the story was shared, and when Tommy asked why Phil never shared the story of a younger Techno, he was told that Phil forgot a lot of things in his old age.)

 As Tommy had sat with a young Techno, who looked at Tommy like he hung the stars in the sky and was asking pointed questions about Tommy's age and life, Tommy had… caved. Answers flinging from his tongue, just… not the answers Tommy is sure he should be giving.

 "I am old, you kind of lose count when you're immortal. You can call me Philza."

 "You're immortal?" Little Techno had questioned, eyes gleaming and…

 It was the same look older Techno had when he reminiscences about the first few months he knew Phil. Tommy's not sure if he accidentally took his dad's place in time or if he was always the Philza Techno thought back on fondly, but… he couldn't ruin their friendship. Their friendship which started with a rescue and a few lessons. A rescue and lesson Tommy had been the one to give…

 Everything… Everything was alright. 

 He fed the lie.

 Switching his clothes out with greens and a stupid looking bucket hat (that was eerily close to his dad's). Calling Techno 'mate' fondly as he gets Techno his own new clothes (and he hopes when he says red is Techno's colour that, that isn't why future Techno's cape is red… Techno had always been fonder of blue after all, and he’d hate to know a silly passing remark influenced his fashion sense that much…). They hang out and… although he's acting like his dad, he enjoys his time. Having a kid follow him around and asking him questions is surprisingly fun (no wonder Tubbo and Ranboo adopted). Having Techno's undivided attention and praise is literally the best (even when it's teeny tiny Techno… Tommy supposes he can't stop himself from chasing after Techno's approval no matter his form).

 Of course, he knew the lie would come to an end. He knew Techno and 'Philza' split after two months, he just didn't know it would be in the form of Karl Jacobs. But apparently, he's a time traveller and he disappears from the SMP to solve problems in the time continuity (this time of course being Tommy himself). Techno doesn't want 'Philza' to go and Tommy has to bend the truth a little. Immortals sometimes got dragged off into trails by the Gods (true) and that Tommy was disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time due to this (lie), but maybe if Techno became an immortal himself, they'd be able to see each other again (true).

 Techno had held his pinkie finger out and it was the cutest thing he thinks he's ever seen (he wants to take a picture of it, but that would give him away, betray his lie someday). Tommy hooks their fingers together and drops the stupid bucket hat on Techno's head.

 "Give me that when the next meet, yeah?" Might as well give Techno and his dad a reason to talk when they finally meet each other.

 "Then…" Techno holds out a gold necklace. "Give me this next time we meet."

 This… was never mentioned in either of their stories, but Tommy knows what that is. He's seen Tubbo's kid Michael with it… Piglin Gold. Every Piglin is given a necklace of gold when they're young, a sign that the Nether is always with them. It's precious, something only shared with family. Techno wanted Phil to return this, but if Tommy takes it… Phil can't return it. And yet…

 Techno is determined, even as his hands shake like he's afraid of rejection and… Tommy can't leave him like this.

 "I'll take care of it," he promises, as he wraps it around his neck. 

 Techno smiles and…

 Tommy's gone. Back to his own time. With two worried friends and Piglin Gold wrapped around his neck. He… he doesn't know what to do…

 He had actively lied to Techno. It wasn’t malicious in intent, but… Techno had spent his entire life following after Philza and Phil was oblivious and yet… their friendship was genuine, was the kind of friendship others would envy (like Tubbo and Tommy’s friendship) and… he couldn’t interfere with that in the past, so why would he interfere with it now?

 He won’t. Doesn’t think it would ever be possible to interfere with such a powerful bond (even if it didn’t begin how Techno believed it did… they’re still a perfectly matched friendship; there was no Techno without Phil and there was no Phil without Techno), but… what does he do with the Piglin Gold?

 He doesn’t know if Phil had spoken some lie to appease Techno, or if Techno had gone searching through Phil’s things and never found it. Doesn’t know if Piglin Gold was possible to track down, because if it was what could Tommy say if Techno finds him with it? 

 He doesn’t know what to do, so he focuses on Tubbo and Ranboo and their worries over him and… the Piglin Gold feels heavier and tighter around his neck everyday he doesn’t return it (every time he doesn’t confess the truth to Techno). And… 

 He can’t keep it. 

 But he can't ruin Techno and Phil’s friendship. 

 So…

 He sneaks to Techno’s Cabin like he’s done hundreds of times before. He slips in undetected and hides the Piglin Gold in a chest Techno hopefully won’t instantly stumble towards (it would be hard to think the necklace was put there by Phil, if he stumbles across it with Phil beside him). It’s back, he’s returned it, but… 

 It’s not enough.

 He finds a piece of paper and writes down a hurried message (sorry this took so long to return) and leaves the cabin. No one needs to know he was ever there. 

 (And no one ever does. The next time Tommy sees Techno, he’s wearing the Piglin Gold proudly, listening to Phil with adoration and narrowing his eyes as Tommy gets too close. Things are as they always should be, and yet… sometimes when Tommy lies in bed, he thinks of a young Technoblade who looks at him like he is his entire world, and he aches knowing that reality was forever an impossibility. To Technoblade, he’ll always be Tommy the betrayer and Phil will always be the one that saved him as child and showed him the world…)

[thefanbasewhore]

The Owner of His Heart. ||A.R

AN: DO NOT CLICK KEEP READING IF YOU DIDNT NOT WATCH THE MOVE.. SPOILERS AHEAD… Also excuse my writing it’s been months since I’ve written anything !

Summary: before spoilers… Reader and Arvin had gone out a couple times but never labeled their relationship but one day when Arvin needs someone, she’s there.

Warning: Just the whole situation with the preacher, death, angst, and maybe a few curses?

The news was unsettling, the kind that sat deep inside the pit of one’s stomach, squeezing and aching, it made Y/N’s chest heavy with sadness. The news of Lenora’s death was surprising, a good God loving girl like her would never commit such a sin but there she lays with no one here., y/n is the only other person but her family standing above Lenora’s casket. Grandma Russel sobbing over the light-colored tomb, Uncle Earskell didn’t say much. As for Arvin she tried to get him to open up but, it didn’t seem like the right time to speak to him but her heart was hurting for his loss.

The preacher didn’t bother to come out and say any words, a suicide, a sinner.

Hesitantly she steps forward, hand comforting the lower back of Arvin. Arvin stiffens but he doesn’t bother to move away from it but only signs. “Arvin.” It’s a failed attempt to hold his hand because he’s almost half way down the dirt road before any other words could follow.

“just give him time sweetheart’” Grandma Russel manages to say, “He will come to you when he needs you.”

He always did. The couple were pretty much inseparable, best friends since childhood even walked together to school until graduation. Tears filled her eyes, Lenora had always been her friend too. They had only became more because the pressure to settle down and find a wife was weighed heavily on Arvin’s shoulders, he tried and tried but none of them clicked. One day it hit him, why wouldn’t he take his best friend out? There was no awkward introduction, no fakeness, she was the realist person he’s ever known.

At first it was a little awkward, so shocked that Arvin asked, she thought it was a joke and laughed in his face. He played it off cooly, but the look on his face said it all, not to mention how flush his cheeks were. “Wait you’re serious Arvin?”

“Mmm.” He confirms, “we already know everything about each other, it’s real between us. Just me and you, besides you ain’t the worst person I’ve ever seen.”

“wow thanks.” Her eyes roll make him laugh, he sucks in his bottom lip and smiles. “I’m just kidding darlin’, you’re beautiful.”

“Am I now?” A playful grin reaching her eyes as she leans over the counter of the diner. “So you’re confession your undying love for me officially?”

“yeah, I guess I am.” Tom shift uncomfortably in his seat as she tops of his coffee. It’s that sweet smile he’s so used too, but this time it send butterflies twirling in his stomach, he had always had a crush when he was younger but as the world grew colder and duller, he never acted on it. “I guess I’ll let you take me out, but we are not going anywhere the creepy abandoned house you always try to get me to go in.”

“why darlin’? Afraid of ghost?” Tom would never go there on a first date, a beautiful woman deserved something with flowers and big bright lights with dinner. Besides, he was pretty sure that his nan would actually kill him if he did anything but show Y/N the udder most respect.

That was only weeks ago, of course they shared some kisses here and there, he would pick her up for picnics, and dinner dates but being so caught up with each other talking about labels never came up.. but it was two people, best friends enjoying the company of one another.

Now she stood over Lenora’s grave watching Arvin’s figure disappear past the tree line, heart heavy with loss. Giving him time is what is best,  a few hours later she found herself knocking on the Russel’s door, a pie in hand. They considered her family of grieving with them but it didn’t feel right showing up with nothing.

“Grandma.” She presses a kiss to older woman’s cheek stepping through the doorway, “Did you eat anything? Want me to make some dinner?”

“all taking care of, maybe you could convince Arvin to eat though, he hasn’t left his room since.” Without a second thought she grabbed the plate from the table and made it through the hall way to Arvin’s room. There’s knock but there’s no answer, it quiet, something that is not familiar when Arvin’s involved.

Pressing against the door she opens it slowly, gripping the plate with two hands once the door is closed. “Arvin, you gotta eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” It muffled from how tightly the blanket was wrapped around him, hoarse from the throbbing inside of his throat. The whole room felt as if it was spinning, heavy eyes with irritated cheeks for the amount of times he’s wiped them.

“hey.” It’s a soft coo as she places the food on the stand next to the bed. “Look at me.”

The brown doe eyes glance up sadly, red with pressure, a ring of redness making it look like he hasn’t slept in days. “Do you need anything? I want to make this better Arvin.”

“I want you to leave.” He admits, pain twisting into his features. “I’m cursed, every single person I love has killed themselves, You’re it going to get caught up in my evil. First my daddy now my sister, who’s next?”

His breathing was increasing, growing with every word as his chest started to rise and fall. “I’m no good for anyone.”

She was stunned for a second, not ever seeing him like this. Of course, he’s always been a gentle kid with way more feelings then he would like to admit but watching the person you love totally break down into a panic attack was unsettling. Her fingers squeeze his gently, she’s here don’t worry.

“Arvin, that’s not true. You are not evil.” She frowns, without him even noticing managing to slip underneath the blanket wrapping her arms around his shoulders, face pressing against the swells of her chest. Fingers play with the soft brown strings. “What happen to them was an act -.”

“If you say God I might scream.” Arvin doesn’t fight the comfort, the softness of her breast, sweet smell of perfume relaxes him completely.

“I was going to say an act of themselves. You are not responsible for others choices, you can’t change what will happen.” Arvin doesn’t say anything else, he stews in the words.

“Now,” Soft pads trace his jaw, touching the highs of his cheeks to make his eyes meet hers. “I don’t want to ever hear any of that ‘I’m cursed’ bullshit again, it is not you. You are not evil and you haven’t lost everyone that loves you.”

Arvin doesn’t need anything else said, he knew exactly what she meant. All he could think was my best-friend, my lover, he pushes up from the bed slowly pressing his lips to hers. It was surprising but without a second thought her lips found his back, meeting in a slow, meaningful kiss. “Imma marry you.”

“oh that’s it? No asking me, nothing?” He rolls his eyes lightly, the first smile in days had graced his face, it was short lived but the sight made her heart flutter.

“ya see babe? I think you knew you were going to marry me the moment you laid eyes on me, always trying to make kissy face when we were younger.” He’s playful, something about growing up together makes it easy to be.

“well who’s making kissy face now?” Arvin’s lips meet hers once again, a subtle way to show his defeat.

A few days later despite how empty his chest felt he went back to work, mostly for the ambition of buying that shinny ring he promised. He was hoping in two weeks he’d have enough to ask properly, he wanted the prettiest one for his girl.

The sheriff stopped him a few day later, right when he was ready to go home, whispers of Lenora being pregnant out of wedlock but it didn’t make any sense. Why would she kill yourself over a baby? She would have all the support in the world, and would have made a great mother.

Then it hit him, who’s baby was it? The only time she’d ever spend was at her mother’s grave. Her mother’s grave and then the preacher… It all suddenly made sense. He felt sick to his stomach as he decided on walking home.. did he tell Nana? It would only break her heart more.

Walking past the cemetery he couldn’t help but notice the flashy, white car. He was about to give the preacher a piece of his mind before a girl no older then sixteen had climbed into the back of it, He couldn’t watch, he felt sick besides he had all of the evidence he needed.

The preacher had taken advantage of her, using God to trick her, and then not wanting to be shammed found a way to fix it. Lenora killed herself because she was afraid of the shame.

Tom slammed the door rather fast, walking right past the two most important women in his life in the kitchen and headed straight for his bedroom. The gun, he needed the gun that was in that stupid box under the bed.

“Arv? Is everything okay honey?” Of course she was here, why couldn’t you just stay away and make this less hard? It was so hard to make a decision when the voice of an angel would call him back to reality.

Killing the preacher meant breaking his promise to her, he wouldn’t marry her but run away, betray every word he said. Lenora deserved better, she deserved revenge.

On the topic of marriage it only made him face the fact that Lenora will never get married now because of that preacher and made his hands shake, tears of frustration run down his cheeks. His head was pounding from all the thinking, fighting with himself over wrong and right.

She enters without warning with a sigh, delicate fingers wrapping around him. “It’s okay, shhh.”

One more night with his love couldn’t hurt, one more night filled with comfort. After all the preacher wasn’t going anywhere. “What happened?”

“I’m fine darlin’,” Arvin wipes his tear filled cheeks, smiling sadly at her. Of course he wasn’t going to tell her, he had to convince her he was fine. “I jus’ miss her is all.”

“Me too, it’s not the same without her.” He nods in agreement wrapping his arms tightly around her back, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. “I love you, and I don’t want you to forget it.”

“I love you to Arv.” Nothing else was said, she decided to stay that night with him. It was surprising.. sharing a bed with a man that is not yet her husband but after him begging it was hard to say no, especially in his time of grieving. Arvin wanted to hold her one last night before he slips away in the morning, and that is exactly what he did. All night held her, stole small kisses as she slept. Before the sun even reached the sky he was gone, but not before placing the small box on the night table.

It was nothing fancy, a small rock with a shiny silver band but it felt right since it rightfully belonged to her. The owner of his heart. With one last kiss to her forehead Arvin was gone but it would not be the last time they meet. Faith had other plans for the pair, their destiny had been written long ago.

[blackmissfrizzle]

The Barbershop (EZ Edition)

Angel’s Edition

Miguel’s Edition

Pairing: EZ Reyes x black!reader

Summary: The reader gets EZ ready for his patch party.

Warnings: Use of the n-word & smut

A/N: Thank you to @ly--canthrope​ for the EZ fluff prompts!  

A/N (2): I highly suggest listening to El Clavo while listening. Also, I think Nestor and Coco might be getting some attention from me, so be on the look out for that.

Prompts: 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice” 

Person scrunching their nose & other kisses them

When you got your first pair of clippers in high school, EZ was your first customer and ever since you’ve been cutting his hair. Even when he went off to college, EZ came back to Santo Padre to get his hari cut by his best friend. The only time you didn’t cut his hair was when he was in prison for those 8 years, but since he’s been back, he hasn’t missed an appointment.

Now here he was at your house with his hair longer than usual because he was busy with club shit. Luckily, he came by with enough time for you to do his hair before his patch party. “Ezekiel, please come to me before your hair gets this long again.”

He pinched your side as you moved around him. “Hey, you do Angel’s hair all the time and his hair is a shit ton longer than mines.”

“I’m used to Angel’s long locks! You’re supposed to be the clean-cut brother.” You stopped cutting his hair and moved the clippers in front of his face. “Oh, and if you pinch me again while I’m doing your hair, I’ll purposefully fuck up your hairline. Let’s see how many of those hang arounds will want your dick then.”

He held up his hands in surrender and mumbled his apologies, but not really meaning it. As long as you’ve been his best friend his favorite pastime was to rile you up. He loved how flustered you got when you couldn’t come up with a clever comeback. He loved how your hand slapped him across his body even if it was a little painful. He loved how your eyes widened in shock and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how you’ll look when he finally gets the chance to slip inside you.

Everyone was aware of his crush on you, except you. The only reason EZ didn’t tell you was because with the pair of you, timing was awful. When he realized he was in love with you, you had a boyfriend and when you broke up with that boyfriend EZ was with Emily. Then, he went off to prison and when he came back, he didn’t want to involve you with his mess, so he kept his distance. But he couldn’t wait anymore, he had to let you know.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he grabbed your attention by lightly grazing your hip. “Yes, Ezekiel?” He let out a soft groan. He loved when you used his full name. It didn’t matter if you were yelling it excitement, teasing him, or scolding him, he just loved to hear it.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t say anything else because your phone started to ring. It was your sorta boyfriend, Rick. EZ couldn’t stand him. He was a douchebag that gave you more headaches than anything. And it was obvious to EZ that you didn’t love him. It was evident in the way you talked about him like an annoying chore. For the life of him, EZ didn’t understand why you kept him around.

“Oh, so now you’re coming? Well, just meet me there because EZ’s riding with me.” EZ couldn’t help to smile a bit at you putting Rick in his place. He tried to listen to Rick’s response, but he could only make out his tone and from that he could tell he was pissed. “Why? Nigga, I don’t have to give you a reason why my best friend is riding in my car.” Even though you were busy with your little argument your hand never faltered, cutting hair was second nature to you. “Ugh, if you must know its his party and I’m planning to get him plastered, so he needs a DD. That’s good with you? Oh, wait I don’t care,” You hung up the phone soon after that.

“Rick coming?” EZ managed to keep the disdain for him out of his voice. “Who knows? Probably be better if he stays but forget about him.” You turned off the clippers and brushed his hair, then gave EZ the mirror to inspect himself. After he gave his haircut a serious inspection, he started biting his lip and doing his signature pretty boy poses.

“Okay, Lothario if you’re done making out with yourself in the mirror, imma go take a shower to start getting ready.” As you turned to walk away, EZ grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. “Thank you, querida.” He kissed your wrist and gave you those adorable puppy dog eyes. “No problem, EZ,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, then went to your bathroom to get ready and ignored your heart swelling up from EZ’s touch.

An hour later you were still getting ready and EZ was taking a shower. While you were applying on makeup, EZ walked into your room wet, fresh out the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. You knew EZ was ripped, but see it up close, my god there are no words.

EZ caught your staring in the mirror. “Like what you see?” He asked, flexing his pecs. “Ew, no!” You falsely claimed and scrunched up your nose in faux disgust.  EZ came up to you and kissed your nose before snatching your lotion off the dresser.  “You know what, you’re right. You love it.” EZ was so damn close to you that you could feel the heat of the shower radiating off of him.

“Yeah, I love it,” you deadpanned before pushing him away. “Now get ready. I don’t want you to be late to your own party.”

--

While EZ was having the time of his life, you were having the opposite. Rick ended up coming, but he was in a funky mood thus bringing your mood down. When his first words were something about how your dress wasn’t flattering, you made plans to break up with him. Using him as a distraction from EZ was draining your soul and you didn’t need that kind of energy in your life.

He made the breakup easier for you when you caught him in the restroom with one of Vicky’s girls with his dick in her mouth. You couldn’t even muster up any anger, instead you gave the girl and extra $100 for her troubles.

Although, getting cheated on sucked, what pissed you off the most was the girls all fawning over EZ. They were all over him like bitches in heat, rubbing on his chest, arms, and head, commenting on his haircut…your haircut. “Damn chica, just go claim your man.” Coco observed how you were sending death glares at the women.

“He’s not my man! He’s grown and can do whatever he wants.” You sputtered, surprised at being caught. “Exactly! If you weren’t too chicken, then he’d be your man.” Angel commented, taking a sip of his beer.

You ignored Coco’s and Angel’s somewhat encouraging words to look back at EZ. Your face instantly brightened when you saw how at ease he was. It wasn’t too often EZ could let go like this.

EZ felt a pair of eyes on him and when he found out it was you his eyes gleamed, he cracked that boyish smile and raised his beer to you. Excusing himself EZ made his way to you and gave you a hug. “Ezekiel, what’s with the hug?”

“I miss you.”

“You rode with me here, EZ.”

“Its Ezekiel and I barely talked to you since we’ve been here. Is it so bad that I want to party with my best friend?” You scrunched up your face. “I guess not.”

EZ hummed his appeasement and kissed your nose.  “Come dance with me.” He didn’t give you time to reject him. Tightly he tugged your hand and pulled you into the middle of the scrapyard.

Prince Royce and Maluma’s El Clavo began to play. EZ knew how much you loved this song, but since you didn’t know Spanish you didn’t understand the song. It was ironic to him that this song was playing tonight. Earlier, he saw how Angel escorted Rick out and the relief wash over you when you saw him leave. He knew Rick must’ve done something stupid. If it wasn’t for your need to avoid conflict, EZ would’ve beat his ass right then and there.

“What are you doing?” You questioned EZ as he placed his leg between yours and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dancing obviously,” he chuckled near your ear sending vibrations throughout your body.

You decided not to fight him and followed his lead. There’s been plenty of times you’ve dance with EZ, but it was always playful and fun, but this…this was different, this was sensual. A passionate dance only meant to be shared between lovers.

“Eyes,” he ordered assertively. It was his command to you when he wanted you to feel what he was saying.

Si esta noche tu novio te bota (If tonight your boyfriend throws you out) Dile que tú no estás sola (Tell him that you are not alone) Que tú estás conmigo, que yo sí te cuido (That you are with me, that I do take care of you) No como ese idiota (no como ese idiota) (Not like that idiot (not like that idiot) Si esta noche tu novio te bota (If tonight your boyfriend throws you out) Dile que tú no andas sola (que no 'tás sola) (Tell him that you are not alone (that you are not alone) Que yo soy el clavo que saca ese clavo (That I am the nail that pulls that nail)

Y dile que se joda (And tell him to fuck) Maluma, baby

Your breath hitched as EZ began translating the lyrics to English. He had to be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. “There it is.” He pointed out. “There what is?”

“That look.” He tugged your bottom lip that you had tucked underneath your teeth. “What look?” Your breath brushed against his thumb and it took all his control not to pounce on you.

“Eyes blown out, chest heaving. See,” EZ gripped your chin to keep your eyes leveled with his. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. It’s the same look I have when I look at you.”

“Stop playing with me, Ezekiel.” Your heart couldn’t take it if this was some sort of joke. “I’m not.” His voice did not waver.

“What about Emily? Or Gabby?”

“Distractions. Distractions that kept me from the real thing for too long.” You sucked your teeth in disbelief. EZ decided to translate the song for you some more. If you weren’t going to believe his words, then maybe you’ll believe another’s.

Yo llevo la cuenta, esta es la quinta vez  (I keep track, this is the fifth time) Pero yo no entiendo por qué no lo ves   (But I don't understand why you don't see him) Tú estás demasiado buena para estar con él (mamacita) (You're too hot to be with him (mamacita)) Tremenda mujer para estar con él  (Tremendous woman to be with him) Y si te busca a las 4:20 porque te llama borracho  (And if he looks for you at 4:20 because he calls you drunk) Ahora te quiere pero mañana vuelve a hacerte daño (Now he loves you but tomorrow he will hurt you again) Por ese bobo no llores  (For that fool, don’t cry) Deja que yo te enamore (deja que yo te enamore)  (Let me make you fall in love (let me make you fall in love)

Now that you knew EZ’s feelings, the lyrics became much more intense for you. Instinctively, you rested your forehead on his. His lips hovered over yours so much that you could taste the beer on his breath. Your acrylic nails caressed the back of his head caused him to stop his translation and purr against your neck. “You like that, Ezekiel?” You teased, giggling against his neck.

“I don’t know,” EZ pressed up against you tighter so you could feel his hardon. “You tell me if it feels like I like it.”

Now or never, you thought. You brought your lips closer to EZ’s. The both of you fighting for dominance, but ultimately EZ won, claiming you in front of the club. It wasn’t until you heard the cheers of his brothers that he’d stop kissing you.

Instantly, EZ started pulling you in the direction of your car, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait, Ezekiel. I need you now.” EZ’s normally bright eyes darkened and he led you towards the clubhouse. On your way to the dorm room, both you and EZ ignored Angel when he told you, “Don’t be surprised when EZ starts crying.”

As the pair of you made it through the hallway, each of your touches got heavier, more daring. So daring that when you finally got to his dorm your dress was halfway off. The rest of the clothes fly off like a whirlwind except EZ’s jeans. In his rush he tripped over his jeans. “Oh, that’s funny?” He asked when he caught you giggling.

“Just a little.” EZ rushed to you, tackled you to the bed and quickly turned your giggles into soft moans as he kissed you.

Despite your best efforts to keep him close, EZ pulled away. He leaned back on his haunches and admired your body. “I can’t believe I finally have you.” He lifted your leg threw it over his shoulder and started kissing you from your ankle up to your inner thighs. “You know one night when I slept over at your place. I caught you touching yourself. Your hands flew to your face to cover up the embarrassment. “Oh god,” you mumbled.

EZ’s deep chuckle made you peek through your hands. “What are you embarrassed for? For that little 10 seconds, it was the sexiest thing I’ve seen, but it was so damn torturous in the most beautiful way. Do you know how hard it is to have that vividly replaying in my head and not have you?”

The whole time EZ was talking he was getting closer to your core, but you were hyper focused on his words that his mouth on your clit took you by surprise. “Shit,” you squealed underneath his tongue. With your hand you covered your mouth to keep your screams down. EZ lifted his head at your muffled screams. “No, let me hear you. Let me know how good I make you feel.”

Following his instructions, you removed your hand and that earned you an approving smile from EZ. “Good girl.” Before he returned to his meal, EZ grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

This time he added his fingers as he ate you out. The hold he had on you allowed no room for you to run, you had to stay there and take everything he was giving you. Add pussy eating to the long list of things that Ezekiel Reyes is great at.

Your hands shot out to EZ’s head. Scratching it was your best alternative since you had nothing to tug at. EZ raised his head, his mouth glistening from your cunt. “I bet you wish my hair was longer now.” He teased before diving right back in.

“EZ, I’m gonna cum.” You continued scratching the back of his head as he moved his tongue and fingers faster. “Cum all over my mouth, preciosa.” He murmured above your pussy.

An explosion. That was the only way you could describe your orgasm. It busted through your body, leaving you and EZ soaked. The evidence shone on his forearm, highlighting his veins, leaving you in a trance.

EZ noticed your staring at his arm. “Ride my forearm.” He demanded, excited that he’ll be able to get you off this way.

At first you were hesitant, but with EZ’s urging you hopped on it. You were experiencing immense pleasure and wanted EZ to experience the same. Tonight, was a celebration for him and this entire time his focus was on you. Completely selfless as usual. Reaching between your bodies, you began stroking him, smearing his precum all over his engorged head. “What are you doing?” He gasped, flexing his arm a bit more. “Tonight’s about you. I want to make you feel good.”

EZ nibbled at your chin. “I want you to cum all over my forearm, that’ll make me feel good.” You continued jerking him off while you rode him.

Who would’ve thought the rough ridges of his protruding veins and his constant flexing had you cumming a second time for the night? “Fuck we got to do that again!” You tried to nuzzle your face in EZ’s neck, but he wouldn’t let you because he was too busy kissing you all over your face. “EZ, I just came on your fucking arm.”

“Yeah and it was hot! I bet that douchebag couldn’t do that with his measly dick.” Slowly, he began to lay you down. “Now you’re about to cum all over my dick while screaming my name.”

Your now boyfriend made good on his promise. Opposed to Rick’s useless jackhammering, EZ made slow, powerful strokes, ensuring you were well taken care of.

He was tending to your body so well your eyes kept rolling to the back of your head. “Eyes!” He commanded harsher than ever before. When your eyes met his, you could see the struggle in his eyes. EZ wanted to be soft, gentle, and romantic, but deep down he wanted to fuck you hard, show you who you belong to.

“Make me yours, Ezekiel. Fuck me like you mean it.” It took him some time to process the words, but when he did his widened in realization that he got permission to let go. “Fuck, I love you.” He captured your lips in a searing kiss, hoping to communicate how much he loved you. “I love you too.” You told him as he had a bruising hold on your hips.

Gone was sweet soft Ezekiel. He was replaced by EZ, the harsh lover that’s gonna push you over the edge, then bring you back just to do it all over again.

Yours and EZ’s moans accompanied by the sound of bodies slapping together made a symphony that you would never get tired of. This was what you were missing for all those years apart.

“Make me proud. Cum all over this dick, querida.” EZ suckled your neck, branding you with his marks. “Ezekiel!” You cried out as your body combusted, almost feeling every molecule in your body. The newly patched Mayan silenced your cries with his mouth as he came soon after you.

EZ tried to lay in the bed with you but you refused. I t was his party and you were adamant that he enjoys it some more. You two can have your alone time later.

Just as you were sliding up your panties, EZ stuffed his fingers up your cum filled pussy. “Don’t want this leaking out.” He whispered, giving you a cheeky grin as you moaned at his ministrations.

“Okay, that’s enough you nasty ass kids. Playtime is over! Time to get fucked up, baby bro. I’m sure Y/N wants to forget the last 30 seconds.” Angel banged on the door.

“That was nice while it lasted.” You slipped your dress over your head and fixed your hair. EZ hummed his agreeance and led you out the door and ignored the childish jeering from his brothers. They could tease all they want, because as long as he has you, he doesn’t give a damn.

Taglist: @starrynite7114​ @sadeyesgf​ @ly--canthrope​ @woahitslucyylu​ @marvelmaree​ @angrythingstarlight​ @teakturn​ @thickemadame​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @strawberrywritings​ @dearsamcrobae​ @chaneajoyyy​ @spookys-girl​ @bigsisbria​

[rantingwriter]

Accidentally in Love (Hawks x Civilian reader) Pt. 1

Trigger warning: depressive thoughts, mention of hospital and severe injury. Some angsty bits, but it will get fluffier later.

The blaring alarm wakes you up with a groan. "Another day….another day." You sigh as you sit up in a twin bed. "Oh, right...I stayed over at Rika's place. Ugh I hope I didn't do anything stupid in front of her and her husband." You rub your face, feeling the build up of oils from the long hours of stress you endured at work. Not to mention the slight hangover from last night. You get up to shower and get ready for work. You stare into the mirror as you brush your damp locks out. "What am I even doing?" The question has been weighing heavily in your mind for weeks now. You managed to land the job of your dreams, that's what you kept telling yourself at least. Your last real relationship was over 2 years ago, and you aren't even sure what you want to do now. You shake yourself out of your thoughts and go down to the kitchen, "Rika?" No response. 

You spot a note left for you on the counter, 'sorry emergency at the clinic. I'll see you at Fumiko's party next week. Please be careful on your way to work. -Rika p.s. there are painkillers and a bento for your lunch in the fridge.'' 

You smile full of gratitude, "she is too nice, I owe her one." You grab the bento and pocket the painkillers for later. Opting out of breakfast to go grab a can of coffee and get an early start to your work day. As you walk to the usual convenience store, a ruckus can be heard around the corner. "Nope, not my problem." You enter the store and get your go to brand of coffee: WAX coffee. You pay for the drink and cautiously walk back out into the streets, the sounds from earlier are still going. "Figured they would've dealt with that by now. I can't get to work at this rate…” You don’t exactly have a useful quirk outside your job. You can use threads and fibers nearby, whether they come from existing clothes or unused spools and weave them together to create cloth. You were like a human sewing machine, handy in a quilting store, not so handy in a crisis. As you weigh your options a sudden shockwave ripples through the air. You manage to keep your balance, but you don’t see the body plummeting towards you before they slam into you. Your head hits the concrete and you black out for a few moments.

“Hey kid, you okay?” You can hear a muffled voice speaking to you. The ringing in your ears and the stars in your eyes make it hard to discern the owner. “Kid, how many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Blevinteen?” You can barely hold your head up as you look around to get your bearings. You see your unopened can of coffee and reach for it. 

Another shockwave ripples by and you feel like you are gonna be sick. “Shit!” The stranger throws you over their shoulder and takes off. Once you are a safer distance away they carefully sit you on the ground. “Don’t move, medics should be here soon and they will take care of you.” The blurry visage of wings is all you can make out as your consciousness wanes. You give into the heavy pull of your eyelids, oblivious to the ongoing battle. 

When you finally come to, you are in the hospital with a throbbing headache and some extra wounds you don’t recall having last time you checked. “Where?” You look around to see your friend who works as an EMT standing by your bed. 

“Thank God you’re awake!” Fumiko flings her arms around your neck. “When they retrieved you from the rubble I was so worried!” 

“Fumi, Imma need you to take it down about 2 notches…” you hold your head to emphasize the reason.

“Right, sorry, I just…” she sniffles and wipes her cheeks with a handkerchief. “You’ve been in a coma for a week.” 

“A weEK?! Your voice cracks and you end up sending yourself into a coughing fit. She helps you to sit up to make it a little easier to clear your air way. “How? What even happened?!”

Your friend pulls up a chair and starts to fill you in on the last seven days. A horrible villain attack took place near the convenient store you always visit. The attack was small to start, but it quickly escalated to the point that buildings were destroyed. One of the said buildings collapsed on top of you. 

“Wait, I wasn’t in a building when it happened…” You couldn’t quite remember everything from that day, but you distinctly recall someone flying into you and reaching for your coffee can. 

“Doesn’t matter, even if you were just in the street you were stuck. The Heroes worked as fast as they could to get everyone out of the disaster zone.” 

“Damn…” You feel the weight of the situation hit you and you check yourself under the blanket. Your friend bows her head to avoid seeing your expression. “Fumi...where’s my foot?” 

“It...it was already gone when they recovered you…” You drop the blanket, you feel what was left of the color drain from your face. “The doctor said they can fit you for a prosthetic if you want one, but…”

“What?” Fumi bites her lip, “what else did they find?!” 

“You have a spinal injury, it’s not a complete one so there is hope to walk again, but for now...you are paralyzed from the waist down.” You feel everything go numb, you’ve lost a foot, you're paralyzed, and you’ve lost 7 days to a coma. “I’m so sorry [y/n],” she wraps her arms around you, but there is no warmth to be felt. Your life wasn’t exactly whole to begin with, but now it feels like it’s shattered completely. 

Shortly after filling you in, Fumi has to return to work, she was just checking on you during her break. It gives you alone time to process everything. As you stare out your window a thought occurs to you, who was it that crashed into you? You focus hard on the fuzzy image, the only discernible detail was the red, wing like appendages. You didn’t really follow the news or trends of pro-heroes, so you were honestly clueless as to who the mystery man was. A doctor eventually comes in to check on you and record your vitals. They discuss treatment options and a guesstimate to how long you would need to stay in the hospital. Your job was essentially forfeit for the duration of your recovery, if the place was even still standing. For the time being they advise you to rest and recover your strength before the more rigorous treatment started. You consent to the plan and are ready to settle in for a nap when the nurse assisting the doctor remembers something. 

“[Preferred pronoun], this was left for you at the front desk.” She hands you a slightly damaged can of coffee with a note attached.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull off the note to read it. 

‘Hey there kid, sorry for literally crash-landing into you and leaving you in such a dangerous area like that. I honestly thought I had you far enough away from the fight, obviously I was wrong. I wanted to visit you in person, but they said you weren’t awake yet. I’ll try again some other time, hang in there. -Hawks’ Your brows shoot up in surprise, a pro-hero wants to visit you? Probably a courtesy thing, maybe even a PR stunt, yet you can’t help the warmth that spreads through your chest. You flip the little paper over to find an addendum ‘by the way, you have great taste in coffee. I’ll be sure to bring you some more, if the staff will allow it.’ A little winky face is drawn on as well. It makes you smile, it hurts because your lips are seriously chapped, but you don’t mind. If nothing else, you might get a free coffee from this Hawks fella. 

[spencervoid]

Big Sister | Adonis Creed

*I do not own this GIF nor do I take any credit for it!*

A/N: So I was kinda bored and I was rewatching both Creed films and fell in love with the way Michael B Jordan portrays Adonis, especially in the second movie, so I made this imagine. Primarily based off of that scene where Rocky basically pleads Adonis not to fight Viktor, Ivan Drago’s son.

Warnings: angst between brother and sister

You were aware of the news circling around that Viktor Drago wanted to fight Donnie and frankly, you thought it was bullshit. This was the son of the infamous Ivan Drago, the one who killed Apollo Creed, also known as your father.

You were the first-born of the boxing champion, and Adonis was the second but whilst you had the chance to meet him and know your father, your little brother didn’t share that same opportunity. He died in the ring before Adonis was born and it gave you a responsibility over him, especially with how much he always used to get in trouble.

You and Adonis were separated once you reached your teenage years, you took your father’s last name but your brother took your mother’s. No one could know that you were related but after the fight with Conlan, he sought you out and it was known to the world that he was a Creed before anything else.

He was a fighter and had the heart of a champion but deep down, you always knew that one day it could be the death of him. Your mother was there that night when your father got into the ring with Ivan Drago and she always used to say how there was a faint memory of “your father going down but never getting back up.”

Consecutive banging on your door awoke you from where you had fell asleep on the couch, the TV still playing in the background, you switched it off and slowly got up, rubbing your eyes as you opened the front door to see Adonis standing before you.

“What’s up Donnie?” You said tiredly, but he had a completely straight face, something was obviously about to go down. “We gotta talk.” You nodded your head and turned back to your shoes, “let’s take a walk, I need some fresh air anyway.”

Shutting the door behind you, Adonis followed as you walked down the steps. “I talked to Ma today, she said that you better be on your best behavior, kinda reminds me of when we were kids, it’s funny but it’s stupid too.” You chuckled and shook your head at yourself.

“I gotta take the fight.” Your face dropped as you shut your eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. You could feel Adonis’ eyes on the back of your head, he always valued your opinions the most and you could tell he came to you first with the hopeful look in his eyes.

You turned around and met them, “have you talked to Rock about it?” He simply shook his head and kept his mouth closed, “you know why? Because you know exactly what’s he’s going to say Donnie.”

You sighed again and dropped your head to the floor, small flashbacks of the fight that you’ve replayed on YouTube a billion times played over and over again in your mind, “why?” You questioned lowly, looking back up to your brother.

“These dudes killed Pops, now they parading around and talking shit? We can’t let that slide.” You knew he was right partly but you couldn’t bear the thought of losing another part of your family, the effect it would have on you would be emptying but the effect it would have on your mother would be soul-crushing.

“You call me a champ right?”

“Yeah.” You responded quietly.

“So I ain’t got a choice.”

You scoffed, “choice? You know that’s the same thing Pops said when he died in the ring that night.” You noticed Adonis’ change in expression even though he desperately tried to cover it up with the hard exterior.

“Look what his choice put Ma through, do you really want to do that to her again?”

“I thought you’d get it,” You flinched back at his sudden response, this was slowly turning to an argument and you really didn’t want it to.

“If I don’t take this fight, I got to live with it right now.” You stepped closer to him and put your finger on his chest, “Viktor was raised in hate, okay? You weren’t. Don’t do it.”

He took a step back this time, your hand falling back to your side. “Rocky did.” You sighed again and shut your eyes, opening them only a few moments later. “That was different Donnie.”

“It was different?”

“It was a whole lot different.” You spoke, raising your voice slightly. As a big sister to Adonis, you had a responsibility to make sure he didn’t make any stupid decisions and this was one of them.

You walked past him to the bottom of the stairs, your shoulder brushing his slightly.

“Rocky was supposed to be in there with Drago that night, and not Pops. And now he has to live with that. How do you expect him to live with it if you die, Donnie? How do you expect all of us to do that?!”

You walked towards him again and lowered your voice this time, hopefully he’d listen. “It’s not worth it.” You walked around him back to where you were standing before, “why do you want to fight?”

“Whatchu talking about? I just told you why.”

“No you didn’t Donnie. Why do you want to fight? I get why they want to fight you, I know what they’re fighting for, what about you?” Adonis opened his mouth to speak as he met your eyes but no words left his lips, so he looked away.

“Listen to me, you’ve got everything to lose! He’s got nothing to lose and when a fighter has got nothing to lose, he’s dangerous!”

“I’m dangerous!” Adonis proclaimed, taking a small step back from you. You sighed as a defeated look came over your face and a confused one came over your brother’s. Suddenly, there was a hurtful look in his eyes as he kept watching you.

“You think imma lose.”

“I ain’t say that.” You had hope in your brother but Viktor was taller, heavier, bulkier, he was a machine and Donnie was a man of faith. And sometimes, faith got people hurt.

“You didn’t need to say nothing, Y/N/N. I know that look on your face. You don’t think I can beat him.” You looked away from Adonis’ stare, worried he’d see right through you and what you were thinking. “What is it that you used to say? ‘Some things may change in the process, but we always start and end with family.’ Right?”

“Right.” You repeated, looking back into his eyes as he took another step back in disbelief.

“So when I need my family, when I want to defend my family, when I want to fix my family, my family won’t even back me up!” You blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill on to your cheeks as Adonis glared at you angrily, his hands made into fists.

There was a moment of silence between you both before Adonis spoke up again. “Listen, I’m taking this fight with or without you.”

You had the same defeated look in your eyes which caused Adonis to shake his head in disagreement, he needed his big sister there with him. He pleaded with his eyes but you didn’t have it in you to back him up, “it’s gotta be without. I’m sorry.”

You walked around him to the bottom of the steps as he turned around, looking at you disappointingly, his eyes welling with tears. “So that’s it sis? You walking out on me?”

You didn’t reply and refused to meet him, taking a few steps up towards your house. “At least you don’t have to pretend to protect me now.” He spoke coldly and as much as you wanted to fight back, you didn’t. You mumbled a small ‘yeah’ and opened the front door, shutting it after you and leaving a very broken brother behind.