#and it looks like she only has two toes on each foot

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 3]

word count: 2145 || avg. reading time: 9 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: like one time swearing

[part 1] [part 2]

As soon as the dorm room door closed behind you, your shoes were practically flung off your feet. With a deeply satisfied sigh you stretched and wiggled your toes, slowly feeling the numbness subside. You weren’t used to wearing heels but thought that a third date called for the occasion.

“How was it?”

Confused, you turned around as if your roommate could have possibly meant anyone else. She hardly ever spoke with you so this was absolutely a first.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, computer on her lap, and brushed her headphones from one ear.

“The… date?”, you asked cautiously, standing frozen in front of the wardrobe like a deer caught in headlights.

The other girl nodded.

“It was… nice?”

“Just nice?”

“He was sweet.”

“That was your second one this week, right? Are you gonna keep seeing him?”

“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re talking to me.”

She shrugged.

“Because I’m curious.” When you still didn’t say anything, she explained, “I’ve heard all over campus what happened, and… it sucks what your ex did. And I saw how sad you were about it but I’m also really impressed with how you’re handling it now. I guess I just wanna say that at first, I thought it was a really dumb rumor because you were both so obsessed with each other. It didn’t make any sense.”

That brought you out of your stupor. You turned to put your jacket back in the closet and tossed the shoes carelessly into the void somewhere to other disregarded things.

“Yeah.”, you said after a small pause.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

Now it was on you to shrug.

“Why d’you ask?”

Your roommate turned the laptop so you could see. It was a live feed of the current varsity volleyball match. Issei was just being switched out and the camera stayed on him as the coach kept talking very fast and gesturing towards the court in an unmistakably urgent manner. Issei simply bowed his head and nodded to his shoes, kneading the pads of his fingers against the water bottle like he always had done when he was anxious. The clip was only about five seconds long but it was obvious that when he turned around to look at the stands behind him he was searching for someone.

Your roommate moved the laptop back so that the screen was facing her again.

“He has been off all game.”

“Well… too bad.”, you said and grabbed your towel and shower caddy.

With three days left until Christmas, the first snow fell. After your tear-filled kiss with Issei at the bench two weeks ago he had left you alone. No more notes, no more loitering around waiting to talk to you and you wondered if this was really how it would be from now on. You figured that finding out you were dating someone else had spooked him into hiding. However, just as you were sure you would never speak another word with him you heard a commotion outside your door. Calls and hollerings were echoing through the hallway from the girls on your floor and you and your roommate both looked up from your essays to then exchange a questioning head tilt with each other. The large pizza carton between you was pushed aside and, brushing your greasy hands off on your washed-out sweats, you got up to see what was going on. When you opened the door you saw four guys hunched over with their heads ducked between their shoulders looking as uncomfortable as can be. Issei, meanwhile, was pushing a fifth down the corridor toward your room. You recognized them now. It had taken a few seconds without their usual sneers.

Your ex had them stand in a row in front of you and then all but one knelt down. Issei gave the last one a tap with his foot on the back of the knee to make him match the others. Heads hung low and hands resting on their thighs, one after the other bowed in deepest apology with their foreheads almost touching the linoleum. The middle one, whom you remembered as the idiot who suggested the bet, began to speak as Issei stood behind them all, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.

“Y/n-san,”, the middle one said, “we’re very sorry for… for the whole thing.”

Issei cleared his throat. All the girls from the surrounding doors giggled and kept their phones focused on them to film while you were gaping like a fish.

“- for making the bet about you. It was terrible and immature and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. We ask for your forgiveness.” A general murmur of apologies went through the row of kneeling guys.

“Here.”, the middle one fished a crinkly envelope from his hoodie and held it up to you with both hands, “This is the money from the bet. Please accept it.”

“No, why would I want your money?”, you replied in disbelieving disgust.

“Okay.”, your roommate weighed in quietly and slipped past you, snatching the envelope, “I’ll be taking that.”

You frowned at her.

She raised her hands in defense. “Pride and integrity are great and all but we are still students at the end of the day. This will at least fund next month’s pizza parties. I’m just saying.” And she retreated behind you, adding, “Carry on.”

“Just leave me alone and don’t ever talk to or about me ever again. And the sooner you realize that you are nothing but pathetic worms that peaked in high school the sooner you can go to therapy which you obviously need.”

The boys seemed to wait for something, then Issei said, “You heard her. Fuck off.”

All five scrambled to their feet and pushed through the audience of sniggering girls to get away.

Incredulously, you looked at Issei who was very obviously very satisfied with himself.

“How did you even…?”

He chuckled and shrugged as the surrounding crowd slowly dispersed and went back into their rooms and about their days.

“You didn’t beat them up, did you?”

“Worse.”

He walked over to you and leaned casually against your doorframe.

“I called their moms.”

Your roommate snorted and went back to her essay.

There was a pause in which Issei realized that for the first time since the breakup, you didn’t regard him with the previous hurt or anger. His smirk faded into a small unsure smile and he switched between glancing at you and his hands, “You look pretty.”, he muttered, then pushed himself off the doorframe, “Have a good night.”

The clip of the five guys kneeling in front of your door (from varying angles) was all over the campus forum for days giving you finally a different sort of spotlight and leading your fellow students to turn their attention and energy to hackling the bet-makers rather than you. It was a welcome change of pace.

On Christmas morning then you were bundled up tightly in your coat and scarf and trudged through the freshly fallen snow on your way to the library where you would pretend to study while in all honesty, you would just be scrolling on your phone. All just to escape the omnipresent merriment. You had to walk past Issei’s dorm, something you had avoided doing for weeks and instead had taken the much longer route.

“Y/n!”, you heard a shout from overhead and when you looked up into the soft flurry of snow you spotted Issei waving from his window, “Wait there for a moment!”

Two flights of stairs later, Issei jogged through the lobby towards the glass front door to hold it open. “Could you come up for a second, please? - It’s nothing weird, I promise.”, he added when he saw your skeptically raised brow.

You followed him silently until you reached his door.

With a flourish, he opened his room and was met with a wall of smell from a whole bunch of different essential oils. He coughed and flitted into the room to open the window again, using a notepad to fan the air. The whole room was decorated with candles and garlands and even a small fake Christmas tree that obviously had needed a bit of persuasion to stand up straight on the bedside table.

“Sorry.”, he pressed out in between coughs, “I went around the whole building for candles but they all just had scented ones.” He kept feverishly fanning the icy cold air into the room, ignoring the thick snowflakes landing on and soaking through his pillow. A long dead plant in a pot on the windowsill caught the flame of a candle as he waved around the notepad and began to slowly burn to a crisp. “Oh!” He tossed the notepad onto the bed and grabbed the mostly empty can of an energy drink to pour over it.

“Anyways.”, Issei turned around as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat, “You once told me that you were kinda dreading Christmas because you couldn’t go see your family and I promised that I would spend Christmas with you and make it fun, so!” He jumped to his dresser and retrieved a red tin containing slightly burned, painstakingly decorated sugar cookies and handed them to you. Then he turned around and rummaged under his bed until he pulled out a Santa hat and reindeer antlers that he placed on top of the tin in your hands, “I also have your favorite Christmas movies -”, he waved toward his laptop, “you don’t have to watch them with me, of course, but they’re there if you like - and”, he picked up a note from his desk, “here is the list we made of all the Christmas activities that you wanted to do. We can go through them one by one.” You noticed how the paper shook slightly in his hand and how he swallowed a lump that seemingly had formed in his throat while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Mistletoe is kinda inappropriate now but I guess you can… slap me instead if we’re both under it. But the snow is good for a snowball fight and to build a snowman and make snow angels and-“

“Issei!”, you said firmly to stop his ramblings, “This is really nice of you but I’m not in the mood to play in the snow right now.”

“Right… uhm.”, his eyes darted back to the paper in his hand for another idea, “We can go to the coffee shop for that holiday drink I told you about.”, he suggested excitedly instead.

“I… already went and tried it last week with my roommate.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was nice, yeah.”

“Good. Good.” After a short pause, he followed up with, “I’m glad.”

He then hesitated, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and put the list back on his desk.

You looked around the room - the leftover paper shreds next to the trash can from the cutout snowflakes, the wonky bow on top of the cookie tin, the over-laden Christmas tree. All the effort and genuine thought he had put into everything at the very least made you want to accept his peace offering.

“I wouldn’t mind having it again, though.”, you heard yourself mumble.

“Really? You sure?”

You shrugged.

“Alright, lemme grab my jacket.”

“You should put out the candles.”

“Right!”

“Alright, order placed.”, he announced when he sat down across from you, holding up the little buzzer that would let you know about your drinks.

“How have you been?”, he asked.

“Good. Better. I aced that exam I was so worried about.”

“Knew you had it in your pocket.”, Issei nodded and turned the buzzer nervously in his fingers.

“Let me just tell you that I know there is no excuse for what I did. But know that I am not done apologizing for it. You are everything to me and I am kicking myself every day for not realizing it the moment I saw you. You deserve nothing but the best and I’m glad you found someone who can make you happy.”

“Thank you.”, you allowed yourself to smile, “I appreciate that.”

“So… what’s he like?”, he asked, trying very hard to sound casual.

“Who?”

“Your new boyfriend. Do I know him?”

“Well uhm, he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” His fingers turning the buzzer slowed ever so slightly.

“Yeah it just…”, you sighed and shrugged, “didn’t work out.”

You would under no circumstances ever tell him that it was because you had called him Issei while he kissed you. You would take that to the grave.

“Aw, that’s too bad.”

“You know this would be a whole lot more convincing if you weren’t grinning like an idiot.”, you smiled.

taglist: @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324

[abyranss]

I read a Hound Ruby fic recently called I can almost hear the Hounds that I really enjoyed and it got me thinking about these two again.

Something that's been on my mind since I last drew them was that I wanted to find ways to distinguish Penny's look more from her usual appearance; she has the red lights and the twisted ahoge and she was scraped up a bit but I wanted to go further.

So I'm leaning more into the cyberpunk nightmare that is Penny's existence. While with Salem she probably looks as I drew her previously but once they leave they lack the resources to keep her in top shape in the absence of Watts' or military funding.

So wear and tear take its toll and they end up needing to use less than optimal parts as replacements; maybe they can scavenge parts from the Atlesian Knights on occasion too. The result is: she ends up looking more obviously mechanical.

[little-annie]

Sex worker Eddie meeting his boyfriends family for the first time. Imagine his surprise when he sits down at the Harrington's dining room table only for one of his regulars to sit down at the head of it. The man he knows as Richie, who has a slew of mommy issues and a rather prominent foot fetish sits down like he owns the place. Which Eddie supposes he does. Though that doesn't stop Richard from turning a ghostly shade of white upon meeting Eddie's eye for the first time that evening. Who knew the man that pays to call him Mommy and suck on his big toe every Wednesday night at the Hilton is the same man who has beaten Steve to a bloody pulp not once, but twice before. The fucking prick.

There's an immediate tension that's began to fester in the room. Thick and uncomfortable. It kinda feeling like a ticking time bomb that's bound to explode any minute.

"Richie," Eddie greets Steve's father with an extended hand, bright, joval, like reunited old friends, noticing the way Steve's attention tears away from the conversation he'd just been having with his mother.

Because you see, Eddie's told Steve about Richie. He's told Steve about a great handful of his clients but especially this fucker. This supposed Wallstreet hot shot who begs to lick Eddie's foot until he's shaking simply over the taste of it, who calls Eddie Mommy and cries every time he comes. Who is such a pathetic bitch that Eddie can't help but go home to Steve and laugh about it.

Steve's mother notices the tension too but seems non the wiser to the cause, smiling warily between the two when she asks, "Oh Honey, how do you two know each other?"

"Work," Eddie replies with a sadistic smirk, sitting a little straighter in his seat compared to earlier when he was anxious to meet the famed fuck up of a father Richard Harrington.

And because he can't help it, because he knows he's already dropping Richard as a client now that he knows who he is, Eddie can't help but add, "How's your mother these days, Rich?"

Steve snorts into the wine glass that he'd began to rather hastily down to Eddie's left, trying to stifle a laugh so sharp it nearly sounds like a sob.

Eddie can't help but feel the slightest bit proud when Richard looks about two seconds from throwing up.

[alastorss]

AAAA ITS GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK!

I love your characterization of Alastor sm ❤️❤️❤️

Could I request reader dropping dead things (people/body parts, deer, etc.) at his door/radio tower? No note, just corpses. He’s gotta figure out who tf if dropping these for him.

a/n: thank you, it's so good to be back!! i really appreciate you and everyone for being so welcoming :')) <3

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"You've been doing what?!"

"I didn't think it was so bad... You're the one who wanted me to make friends!"

Charlie only gawks at you, tugging at the ends of her hair in stress. The Princess of Hell paces back and forth across the room, slowly piecing together why Alastor has been in such a foul mood lately.

"So you thought the best way to make friends with the Radio Demon was to leave dead bodies at his doorstep?"

"He loves dead bodies."

"Yeah, to eat them! Oh god, what kind of message have you been sending to him?" She babbles on, exasperated and flinging her hands around in a panic. "He must think you're threatening him or something!"

"Well..." you make some sort of constipated expression and Charlie stops dead in her tracks. "He might not know they've been from me."

"You've been leaving them anonymously?" The Princess squeaks, unsure of whether that makes it infinitely better or infinitely worse. "What was even the point then?"

"I get nervous!" You argue, flopping back on the couch and laying an arm over your eyes. "I was going to tell him eventually."

Alastor was a different breed of terrifying. He could silence a room just by breathing in it. The wailing souls in his broadcast were enough to command that sort of attention.

When Charlie had given you the task of making friends as a part of her "redemption project" you had assumed he was exempt from the list. He was, after all, fairly secluded despite his cheery demeanour. Very few had ever managed to become his companions.

However, your hopes of avoiding him had been flushed down the drain when you accidentally bumped into each other on the way out on your very first day.

He gave you a look over, scrutinizing you from head to toe until your cheeks burned. Then, demanded something very simple of you:

"Welcome! Please, do entertain me."

His first and, as of today, last words he ever spoke to you. Sure, your methods were a little unorthodox, but you had asked Husk for advice and Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies were as much as the bartender was willing to spill.

When you don't receive any response, you peel your arm away to peer at your friend. She makes another two laps around the coffee table before her face lights up.

"I've got it!"

"I don't like that look on your face—"

"Come on," she laughs, pulling you by the wrists. "You just have to be honest. And make sure he knows you're not trying to kill him!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" You ask nervously. "You just told me he's been in a worse mood than usual."

A sinister smile that could only belong to the daughter of the devil creeps its way across her lips.

Dread. All you feel is terrible dread.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

As much as Alastor enjoys a good meal, this is becoming excessive.

It must be the seventh or eighth body this week. And, as usual, there is no note. No indication of why there's a corpse or a deer head or a rabbit's foot at his door. He can't even sniff out any traces of a soul being here.

He hates charity.

Not even because he does not need it, but because the anonymity is making him think they're gifts of pity. That, or it's a threat on his life. Either way, he loathes the idea that someone is looking down on him.

The demon needs to get to the bottom of this soon. Paranoia is not common for him, but the anxious bubbling in his chest is unmistakable. Whoever keeps leaving the bodies at his door is meticulously clean when they kill. He would hate to be on the receiving end of the blade.

Just as he's about to dump the body in his swamp for later, there's a knock on his bedroom door. He hesitates.

No, he isn't afraid of whoever is on the other side of the door. However, if there were a fight, he would need to get his suit tailored again and he simply doesn't have the time for that today.

He takes slightly too long to decide whether or not the person on the other side of the wall is a threat, because soon enough his ears pick up the sound of retreating footsteps.

Alastor swings the doors open so fast that you yelp.

At first he's confused why you refuse to turn around to look at him. Lacking common manners—he'll have to bring that up to you later. Then, he's confused on why you've shown up to his door at all.

"May I help you, dear?"

A chill creeps down your spine. Charlie and her ideas... they would be the death of you. Preferably today. Right now.

"I didn't mean to disturb you!" You stammer, still not looking at him.

Alastor raises a brow before popping up behind you from the shadows. You squeak, clutching somehing to your chest and shielding it from his gaze. He does a loop around your body and you spin around to keep the item hidden. The Radio Demon narrows his eyes.

"Are you hiding something?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

You do another spin as he tries to get a peek of what's in your hands.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He feigns offense. Again, another spin.

"Of course not!"

"You see, I very much don't enjoy being lied to. Last time I caught a scoundrel in my midst, I cracked them open like a—"

"Okay, okay!" You suddenly burst out. You turn so slow that Alastor feels himself holding his breath.

When he finally sees what you've been so insistent on hiding, he snickers. Impolitely, mind you.

"Don't laugh," you whine, squeezing the bouquet closer to your chest. Amongst the flowers are little pieces of death—fingers, eyes, ears.

Charlie had decided that one step back in your redemption by collecting body parts like this would result in three steps forward. She allowed it, just this once.

"Are these for me?" He purrs, leaning down until his face is in yours. You'd been warned before that Alastor had no concept of personal space, but you can't help the way it robs the air in your lungs.

"Please don't get the wrong idea," you strain in embarrassment. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For leaving all those bodies here. I didn't mean for it to come across as insulting."

The demon blinks at you in stunned silence for a few moments before he cackles, standing back to let you breathe again. "Why, of course! No hard feelings, darling."

"Really?" You lighten up with a sigh of relief.

"Your little gifts have kept me on my toes," he assures. "Perhaps not my idea of entertainment, but the effort was there."

"I'm glad to hear that," you smile. "Charlie was worried you wouldn't accept my apology or want to be friends."

You seem to catch yourself, eyes going wide as you shake your head.

"N-Not that I'm assuming this means we can be friends!"

Alastor only laughs again, gentler this time. "No need to be so jumpy. I don't bite," he muses. "And tell the Princess she has nothing to worry about."

He takes the bouquet from you, hands lingering over yours for a fraction longer than he meant for them to.

"I would love to be your friend."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee (send an ask to be added!)

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷 I just saw @auteurdelabre Trope Off challenge, so I’m tagging this as a meet cute for that!

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys. 

   You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there. 

   When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years. 

   Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

   Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

   Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

   You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

   He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room. 

   Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

   You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

   And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

   Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

   “You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel. 

   “Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol. 

   “Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

   Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

   Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love. 

   Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

   Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

   It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch. 

   He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

   After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies. 

   Right to you.

—

   Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you. 

   Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you. 

   You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.  

   This is a good sign.

   When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body. 

   He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

   You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

   It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

  “Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.  

   “Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

   “‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

   Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

   Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

   He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

   “My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

   “Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face. 

   God, he’s so handsome.

   “Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

   He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

   “Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question. 

   He just asked you to dance.

   “Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

   “You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

   “Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

   “Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him. 

   “Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

   “Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

   “Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it. 

   Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

   He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

   The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly. 

   The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet. 

   You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

   “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

   “And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you. 

   “Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

   “Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

   “The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

   “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.” 

   “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh. 

   “I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

   “Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love. 

   “And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman. 

   He’s fucking perfect. 

   He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

   “So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

   “Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

   “Me?” you ask, taken aback. 

   “Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

   “There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

   “Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

   “Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

   “That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

   “No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

   “S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

   “I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

   “No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

   “Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

   “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

   “Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

   “Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

   You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

   He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

   “If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

   He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

   “I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

   You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

   He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

   Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?” 

   “Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

   “You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

   “Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

   You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

   He’s perfect. 

   “So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

   “I’m a vet assistant.”

   “Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips. 

   “Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

   He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him. 

   “So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

   “Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

   “My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now. 

   “Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms. 

   “Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage. 

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

   Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too. 

   “You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

   You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.” 

   “You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

   “You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue. 

   He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

   “Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

   “S’right. My cowgirl.”

   My cowgirl. 

   Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin. 

   As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings. 

   You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him. 

   “Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into  a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

   Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

   He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy. 

   Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

   Lovely lady May.

   His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too. 

   As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere. 

   His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

   He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you. 

   But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May. 

   His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

   One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

   “Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

   “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

   “And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

   “I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

   You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

   He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame. 

   His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue. 

   And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

   Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

   He’s all you know now. 

   You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

   He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

   And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

   He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could. 

   After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own. 

   You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common. 

   It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you. 

   He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

   “So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight. 

   He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart. 

   “Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls. 

   “That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

   “Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

   “All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

   “All yours,” you confirm.

   He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole. 

   This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away. 

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(H:SR) Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Himeko, and Firefly slow dancing with their S/O

No one requested this, listening to a Space Marine and Battle Droid sing Careless Whisper got me in the mood.

Bronya has had to attend a few balls here and there throughout her life, though given the nature of the Eternal Freeze, they were few and far between.

She's learned the proper etiquette on how to dance and respond to the others who were high up in command, but never had the chance to dance with someone she loved.

That changed when S/O offered to take her hand, completely alone in her room with a phonograph playing a romantic record, of course recommended to her by Serval.

(S/O) "May I have this dance, Lady Bronya?"

Feeling her ears heat up at S/O's teasing, Bronya smiled and gently put her hand into theirs.

(Bronya) "Shall I take the lead, S/O?"

With her heart quickening in pace, dancing with S/O threatened to make her forget everything she learned in an instant.

Taking a deep breath, Bronya guides S/O along as they sway along to the music gracefully.

Well, at least she does.

S/O is stumbling here and there, making Bronya giggle in between their missteps.

(S/O) "H-Hey, cut me some slack! I haven't done this before!"

(Bronya) "But weren't you the one who asked?-"

Focusing away from S/O's pouting, Bronya puts her chin on their shoulder, simply enjoying the quiet moment with them.

With the two of them stepping to the beat of the song as it continued playing into the night.

Seele sighs when S/O offers their hand to her after hearing what was playing on the nearby phonograph.

(Seele) "Do I look like the type of girl that dances?"

(S/O) "Come on, pleaaaase?~"

Mumbling something to herself, Seele rolls her eyes before getting up from her seat.

Only really going along with this because there was no one else in the room.

And also because she loved them but she'll tear you in half before she says that out loud.

As expected, both her and S/O completely stumble the entire way, stepping on each other's toes more than a few times.

But her breath hitched when S/O's arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer to an embrace.

(S/O) "Your heart is beating really fast-"

(Seele) "J-Just shut it and keep dancing will you?"

Seele's head rested underneath their chin, she didn't even need to see their face to know S/O was smiling.

Which tempted Seele to kick them in the shin.

Natasha lets out a hearty laugh when S/O yanks her away from the table to engage in a dance, her coat swishing to the sides as she stepped along.

She admittedly doesn't have much experience with dancing due to being a Doctor, but it's something she won't mind to learn with S/O.

Though she gets the idea the moment she hears how slow the song is, enjoying the intimacy more than the feeling of actually dancing.

It isn't long before she relaxes entirely into S/O's hold, her low chuckle reverberating through their body as they embraced.

(S/O) "Something funny, Nat?"

(Natasha) "Hm...no, just enjoying the dance is all.~"

(S/O) "Have you done this before?"

(Natasha) "No. Trying to patch up wounds doesn't leave a lot of time to include ballroom dancing into my routine."

(S/O) "I'm truly shocked!-"

Both of them laugh again before Natasha goes completely silent and hugs S/O, the two of them standing still and not saying another word.

When it's just Himeko and S/O in the main car alone, she puts a slow song on the player before extending her hand towards S/O.

(Himeko) "Will you take this dance with me underneath the stars?"

S/O grabs her without hesitation, both of them spinning into place but not losing their footing once.

(S/O) "Of course, dear."

Himeko knows how to dance, though not too formally. It's just more of a thing she picked up along her journeys aboard the Astral Express.

Not that S/O would ever know, with how graceful she is with every step, sometimes letting S/O take the lead as well.

It was playful, intimate, and classy all at the same time, and Himeko would not have it any other way.

(Himeko) "Hm, you've gotten better, S/O!"

(S/O) "Heh, only to impress you if I'm being honest!"

(Himeko) "Then I say mission accomplished!~-"

(Caelus) "I feel like we should move to another car-"

(March 7th) "Shush, they're having a moment!"

Firefly is blushing madly the entire time, but she immediately accepts S/O's offer to dance.

Given the condition of her body, S/O is very gentle with her, both of them holding each other as they slowly stepped in beat to the song.

Firefly's smile is ear to ear while she listens to their heartbeat, the both of them less dancing to the music, and moreso enjoying each other's company.

She hums in content feeling S/O's hand brush against the back of her hair as they continued moving from spot to spot at their own pace.

(Firefly) "I wish this moment could last forever..."

(S/O) "...Me too."

S/O tightens their hold on Firefly, making both of them chuckle quietly, both out of shyness and the affection they felt at this instant.

(Firefly) "...I love you, S/O."

(S/O) "I love you too."

Stopping in their dance, Firefly gave a quick peck to their lips before leaning back and smiling, stepping in beat properly now, with S/O following her lead.

...

...

...

(S/O) "...Do you think you could dance in your armor?"

Firefly looked up from her phone and raised a single eyebrow, in a rare expression that made S/O's lips form into a grin.

(Firefly) "I...I think I could, but why do you want to see that?"

(S/O) "It'd be kind of interesting!...I think!"

(Firefly) "What could even work? I don't want to accidentally hurt you if you wanted to dance with me."

(S/O) "Wasn't Silver Wolf mentioning something about some old game called...Dance Dance...something or other?"

(Firefly) "W-Well...I'm willing to try anything once!"

Firefly would end up killing it on a dancing rig, wiping the floor with S/O as they tried to outspeed her.

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Feral

Reader has a cat and Feyd isn't a fan. Or so he says.

When his betrothed moves to Giedi Prime, she brings many things with her. Clothing, of course. Bedding as well, apparently she has sensitive skin. Two ladies maids, as none of the Harkonnen servants knew how to style hair. And one thing that seemed entirely unnecessary to Feyd. A cat.

A horridly behaved, near feral Tom cat to be specific. He looked nothing like the well groomed pets noble ladies kept. His fur tended to look unkept and dirty. He had white fur on his belly, and whenever he slivered back inside of the palace after sneaking away for a few hours, his white belly fur looked grey from all the dirt.

Friz, the cat was called. Fitting, you would think, if you saw his crooked whiskers and the mats that tended to form behind his ears. His betrothed, Y/N, tried to keep him from matting too much by brushing his fur a bit each day. Y/N had told him once that, "Friz is just at that age where cats tend to get a bit lazy with their personal hygiene."

Friz got dirtier and dirtier every day until Y/N took to bathing him three times a week to keep him clean. She often returned from that task with angry red marks down her arms. Deep scratches that Feyd would grumble about as he disinfected them for her. "Can't you declaw that wretched thing? People are going to think I'm hurting you."

She chuckled, then winced at the sting of the disinfectant he spread on her cuts. "Not a chance. That's basically cutting off half of his toe. It gives them arthritis and makes them depressed."

Feyd grunted, choosing not to mention how the cat probably already had arthritis and was always angry.

Honestly, he didn't mind his wife having a pet, he really didn't. But one would think that the point of having a pet was to either train it to do a task, or for it to provide companionship. Feyd thought the point of cats was for them to kill rodents and cuddle up to their owners. But not only would Friz not cuddle, he barely let anyone ever touch him. Even Y/N.

If Friz wasn't in the mood to be touched, anyone trying to pet him would get bitten, clawed, and pissed on in that order. Feyd nearly wanted to kill the mangy thing when it pissed in his boots. But Y/N fretting over him and insisting on cleaning his boots for him, and even shining his boots for him cooked his temper. As did her kissing him afterwards.

Fritz was lucky the boots weren't new.

It wasn't until one day, when he and Y/N both fell ill with a pesky cold that confined them both to bed that he began to appreciate Friz.

The tomcat seemed to sense there was something wrong with them, and diligently prowled around their bed for half an hour before jumping up to join them. At first he hesitantly crouched near the foot of the bed, but cautiously made his way up to sit on Y\Ns chest. Feyd opened his mouth to make a joke about Friz preparing to eat them, but was cut off by the shocking sound of purring. The grumpy old crusty cat was purring!

Feyd's amazement only increased when Friz eventually migrated to lay on his chest, kneading at his flym filled chest with his grubby paws in a comforting pattern and purring.

Feyd cautiously lifted his hand, barely touching Friz before the cat sank his teeth into Feyd's hand.

Feyd coughed while Y/N laughed. "He's all business today, no petting allowed."

Feyd smiled, despite himself. The purring was nice. A soothing rhythm that had him on the edge of sleep, sinking into it's embrace in no time at all.

Maybe he could come to appreciate the feral beast.

[eldritch-spouse]

So I was wondering how would Kalymir react if his heir had a nightmare and went into his room? Sorry, this is weird and kinda dumb, also your my favorite writer, and I hope you're doing well!

[I'm your favorite writer?? 🥺🥹 *sniff* ooOough-]

Sometimes Kalymir wonders if having you involved in the process of raising his heir is a good idea.

You teach them human weakness, something they absolutely must not have if they ever wish to take the throne, to maintain it. Offering them a different perspective is something he can appreciate, but when that same perspective softens the character of his child, the demonlord can't help grow anxious.

The worst possible outcome would be an heir that is too soft for Wrath. Something Kalymir drills into your head whenever you seem to be imparting too much "flowery shit" into your own child's mind.

This has created many a conflict between you, but he's glad that you don't just pipe down, he likes it when you scream right back and throw yourself at him about your rights as a mother. That's good, you need to keep that spirit. At the very least, you've accepted that your child is the son of a Lord of Wrath, and their nature will always seem "callous" to you. They love you, they just don't show you that the way a human child would.

Nevertheless, it still falls onto Kalymir to correct some of the culture you impart. Like the "beast under the bed" story, for example. He chewed you the fuck out for that one when he found out the kid was sleeping anywhere except in their room as a result. An heir fearing their own territory?! What madness!

Kalymir wasn't asleep when he heard the tap tap tap of his child's footsteps across the halls. They open the door to the bed chambers and stand quietly in the darkness.

" WHAT. " Kalymir turns to them.

They may try to hide it, but there's no concealing the slight tremor of their limbs, and the tail tucked between their legs.

" Where is mom? "

" WITH ROCH. "

His heir makes to leave without another word, but he slams a foot down.

" DON'T WAKE YOUR MOTHER. SHE NEEDS UNINTERRUPTED SLEEP. "

The child looks confused and uncomfortable now, clearly seeking you specifically for this. Kalymir would be rolling his eyes. As is, he gets off the bed and passes by his own kid in the halls. Although they are growing fast, something pleasing to the King, they can barely keep up with their dad's massive footsteps.

" COME ON, SQUIRT. "

They do, visibly confused.

" Father- "

" NIGHT TERRORS AGAIN. "

The halfling puffs their cheeks, their hair standing. " NO! That's stupid- "

" YOU SCREAM IN YOUR SLEEP, KID. " He chuffs like an irritated bull. " YOUR MOTHER'S LULLABIES WON'T FIX THAT. "

The future ruler of Wrath deflates, not quick witted enough to deflect the truth.

" Where are we going? "

Kalymir puffs his chest, something the kid immediately mimics.

" THE TRAINING GROUNDS SERVE MANY PURPOSES. "

Fortunately, the King can't see his own progeny mutely huff and roll their eyes when their dad starts blabbering on.

" THEY KEEP YOU SHARP. THEY KEEP YOU HEALTHY. THEY MAKE YOU POWERFUL... AND THEY QUIET THE MIND. "

The two arrive upon the first combat room, a rather basic one, with no objects to be used mid-fight, aside from the weapons available for each fighter's choosing. This is a routine the heir is already well-adjusted to, casually standing on the tips of their toes to reach their favored dagger, while Kalymir simply stands on the "field" with nothing but his own body.

" Come on dad, I've already trained today- "

" OPEN THOSE FUCKING EARS. "

He rapidly tears one of his own spiked growths out of his shoulder, hurling it at the child with a speed that would likely give any normal mother a heart attack. However, that small body very easily jumps out of the way, trying to use their own father's size against him when they weasel around his great form and attempt to slice his legs.

To no avail, not only is Kalymir's skin much too hardened to be slit by a mere dagger, they fail to take his tail into account, getting a blunt blow to the midsection and rolling away in pain.

" SECOND TIME YOU FORGET THE TAIL NOW. " The Icon tuts, snorting at their whining child.

" Fuck you, old fart... "

" DID YOUR MOTHER TEACH YOU THAT ONE?! "

The kid only shows their tongue in a taunt before crawling to their side of the room again.

" LISTEN TO ME. WHEN YOU WAKE IN THE NIGHT BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN MIND'S COWARDICE, YOU COME TO ME AND WE SPAR. "

The princus blows hair out of their face and adopts an offensive stance.

" YOU WILL SLEEP LIKE A FUCKING BABY TONIGHT, YOU'LL SEE. "

He can't help but smile when they simply shriek and sprint towards him as fast as their tiny body allows.

Kalymir's going to rub it right in your face when those nightmares all but disappear.

[lovely-keii]

being their sibling

characters: kageyama tobio, miya twins, iwaizumi hajime, hitoka yachi, ushijima wakatoshi

a/n: comeback?! 🫣

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

he thinks everything you do is normal, it skews his perspective of the real world. you’re a great painter? suddenly he’s asking his seatmate why her drawings look like that. you sing well? he tells some kid with an average voice that he can’t sing. you’re rich? suddenly he’s calling someone’s car cheap.

obedient, whether or not you’re younger than him. “get me a glass of water, tobio” “ok.” // “my feet hurt, tobio.” “put them on my lap, ill massage your feet.” honestly, really reasonable and kind

he’s so loud when he gets annoyed though. stubs his toe on the coffee table and the next day, you receive a noise complaint. swears a lot too. god forbid he loses one of his volleyball equipment. he’s going to absolutely flip the house upside down.

kageyama is so transparent with you, literally almost no boundaries. he’ll literally go into your room and is confused why you tell him to get out. “why? is there something you need to hide?” somehow knows your password always “why can’t i use your phone? you can use mine.” bro has nothing to hide, hes too comfortable around you

just dont mess with his volleyball things and you’re all good.

MIYA TWINS

you three are so loud all the goddamn time, your neighbors hate you guys. the two might baby you or look up to you, but you’re never exempted from their mischief. but at least you have your very own bodyguard and sidekicks.

you own literally nothing. things will go missing from your room, and appear in atsumu’s desk. one time, you see your hand cream in atsumu’s hand, and he’s using it to massage his foot after volleyball practice. “what are you doing?!” “i ran out of foot cream. plus, what’s the difference between feet and hand skin anyways? oh hey, it smells nice.”

you can’t store your food just anywhere too, you have to hide it in the most creative spots just to make sure osamu doesn’t get his hands on it. always makes excuses too. “this is OUR house so this is also OUR food” “sharing is caring, and i’m your brother.”

when osamu and atsumu fight, you either get dragged in or you have to start haggling to get between them. you three will fight about literally anything. mainly because you three love to intentionally annoy each other “get out of my room!” “my feet are outside so it doesn’t count.” BAM BOOSH POW!! knuckle sandwich for everyone!

and you three love to pretend to be characters in the show. powerpuff girls? osamu is bubbles, you and atsumu fight over who’s blossom. alvin and the chipmunks? osamu is theodore, atsumu is alvin, and you’re simon. god forbid spongebob comes on, because atsumu insists he’s pearl.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

he’s a great brother, in all senses of the word. you leave something at home and he’ll bring it for you. you get into an accident and he’s the first to show up. you lose something and he’ll find it for you.

you see oikawa so often he might as well be your brother too. when you’re talking to people, the two are so irritating lol. oikawa’s teasing you and giggling about it, and iwaizumi is giving you “the talk” which he’s given you dozens of times.

he likes to scold you, but he’s only really looking out for you. he doesn’t like to encourage you when you cause trouble, but a single text from you, and he’s already grumbling and on his way to open the window for you to sneak in.

if you like any of his teammates and he finds out, you’ll get an earful. “there are so many guys in the world and you like him?! you can do better but you’re settling on so little!” and if it’s oikawa, he’s literally gagging and telling oikawa he isn’t allowed to come over anymore.

but also, he’s paying for your deliveries, opening the car door for you, and making you walk in the inner side of the sidewalk, so you win anyways.

HITOKA YACHI

she makes you talk to your mom and ask permission for her, because she’s too scared to do it herself. feels bad and gives you some cash or snacks to make it up to you if you get scolded in her place.

brings you to volleyball practice with her, and if you’re classmates or in karasuno too, she makes you sign up as manager with her too. you two are almost inseparable, mainly because yachi doesn’t want to do things with strangers, and wants to be with someone she knows.

loves to go out and hang with you. she’s not really a shopping kind of girl, but you two will literally get lost when you get to stationery. you two will frequent cute cafes too. you go under the guise of studying but get distracted by everything.

in the nights, she’ll do your hair and skin routine, and you’ll do hers. you two have a shared playlist and everything, and the both of you will just talk about everything under the sun.

surprisingly has a large appetite around you. she’ll ogle your sweets. “um…are you going to eat that? just asking…”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

sibling or not, he’s really quiet. doesn’t like small talk or messing around since he doesn’t see the point in it. also can be super blunt with you so he hurts your feelings sometimes, but he’s always quick to apologize once he realizes you were upset by it. “you might have gotten a higher score if you didn’t waste time on your phone last night.” “toshi…” “sorry, i mean it as advice.”

has really good insight into things, so you often go to him for advice. he’s straightforward and likes to cut to the chase, so he’s rarely in between decisions. on the other hand, he can occasionally misunderstand your intentions and feelings and doesn’t understand why some things bother you.

he’ll call you to the backyard to toss to him every so often. you’ve spent a majority of your childhood passing ushijima volleyballs for him to hit and receive, and waiting for him to finish watching a game so you can watch your cartoons.

he always has tickets for you to watch his games. if he hears your cheers, he’ll give you a determined smile. he’ll find you after a game and ask you how it was and if you had fun. has you ride in the team bus to and from games and no one really pays too much mind. (except for tendou who’ll pester you)

on his way back home after a long practice, he’ll stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out for you.

[yaut-jaknowit]

The Fight Of A Lifetime

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5509

Summary: The week is up. In one last try, you throw yourself at her feet and pleads her to not do this. As much as you don't want to watch, you can't not be there. If she were to die, Dwainet will kill you, might as well make it swift. So you go. We'ar-ow looks magnific in her armor and adorned in weapons. The two arrive in grand style. You're decked out, head to toe in everything We'ar-ow has given you. The battle commences.

Author Note: It has finally arrived! This is the second to the last chapter planned for this series. The climax of it all. I hoped the fighting scenes are alright. I hate writing fighting scenes. They need to be quick, fast and I like to describe everything. So, it's the opposite to what I do.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 17 | Part 18

Everyday since the challenge had been issued, We’ar-ow acted indifferent. Not a thing changed. She would take you to her throne room where she dealt with the dealings as the Monarch of her clan.

Well, besides the fact you admitted your love to the alien. Outside the safety of her quarters, We’ar-ow was the same Monarch everyone knew her as. Yet, inside those walls, specially when the night cycle fell upon the two of you, she would cuddle with you. Her eight foot and so frame was easily able to dwarf you. She’d scoop you to her torso and curl around you like some sort of brick wall. Imposing and immoveable.

It was impossible to nudge her even slightly to the side to get up when nature called. The lumbering giant female hugged you like a koala. There was little chance to escape unless you’ve threaten to piss in the bed or getting a UTI because you’re holding it for so long.

Besides the cuddling, that’s the only thing you’ve noticed. And that made you begin to think. The way she barely has changed her personality at first had you worried that she didn’t return your feelings. Then, you got to thinking.

If nothing had changed… maybe she has loved you from the beginning.

Then, to find you there, all those months ago, on the verge of crying couldn’t been fate. You don’t believe she had anything to do with Dwainet breaking up with you. It was the opportunity falling into her lap. We’ar-ow, the predator she is, took the chance to snatch you up before some other Yautja could. A lone pet without its master was a call for trouble.

Now, look where you are now. From the depths of food chain where Dwainet survived in as a newly blooded to the mate of the monarch. A clear glow up for yourself.

Including now; decked out in a finest of material Raunch designed for the day. You looked nothing less than a deity while standing in front of the mirror. The thin, see-through material flowing from around your neck and down your back was flowy. It attached at two points to your wrists. The brown easily complimenting the pink that made up the rest of your outfit Raunch threw you in.

His life must have been on the line when he created this because of how fabulous and stunning you looked in it. We’ar-ow wanted you nothing short of the deity she saw you as. You glanced at said Yautja through the mirror while she armored her up.

One creature soft, pliant, silky. The other rough, jig jagged, coarse. Two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly against the other. Both complimenting each other.

You couldn’t help the gentle smile to upturn your lips at the thought before it dropped. The realization of what was about to occur hitting you straight in the gut. This could be the last time you saw each other alive. Despite her plentiful reassurances that the day would go as planned, you are only human. And humans fretted, a lot. Any little thing could go wrong. And boom, she’s dead.

The blood in your veins ran cold. Death wasn’t new to you. Not when you’re surrounded by a species that hunted and prided themselves over the bodies they brought home. Or when they duke it out over a challenge thrown down. But to lose We’ar-ow. You couldn’t fathom the heartbreak it would bring upon you.

Goosebumps clouded your skin. The soft flesh of your bottom lip worried on by dull teeth. We’ar-ow’s strong gaze flickered over at you. Instantly, you straightened and found anywhere else to look at. Then, you attempted to relax and act natural in the face of your mate. Said Yautja began to stalk towards you before halting just shy of your back.

Her form towered even more with the added armor decorating her. She downright looked like a beast ready for the hunt. Your breath got caught in your throat when your eyes raked up her body in the mirror. She was stunning and terrifying all in the same boat.

The heat of her body blanketed you in comfort and helped ease the tension holding your shoulders. We’ar-ow reached around you to cup your throat and tilted your head back. “I have told you, there is nothing to fret about. I will be victorious. Not for me but for you, little one,” she growled and tugged you flush against the muscles that lined her thick thighs.

As much as you wanted to believe a hundred percent, there was that constant nagging inside of your mind. The part that will always make you human. The part that whispered from the depths that she will fail, she will fall, she will die. Then, you will have no choice but to be handed over to Dwainet. Once more in the hands of a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

A part that We’ar-ow can never quell.

“I am only human,” you muttered, eyes drifting down to look at the two of you in the mirror. Her claws lightly bit into the soft flesh of the back of your neck. But, We’ar-ow is careful, mindful of your more fragile form in her presences.

A grumble sounded from the back of her throat. “And I am the monarch of this clan. I have never lost a challenge. I will not lose this one. Not when I have something to lose, someone important,” her voice softened towards the end. Then, the pink Yautja bent at the waist to nuzzle her mandibles into your hair carefully with the decorations adorning your head. In her eyes, you rivaled Paya with your deity status.

Your orbs snapped up to the pink Yautja at your back, expression softening. “We’ar-ow,” you whispered her name then heavily sighed, eyes closing. This is a weight you never expected to bare. Not a weight that was meant for a Yautja more than you yourself.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” she mumbled into your hair then peered over to look you deeply into your eyes. “What will be the tip in the scales?” If you didn’t know any better, you could say she was begging for you to believe in her.

And that hurt you. Guilt burned a hole in your stomach. It was your own demons causing this issue to worsen with each denial that passed your lips and reflected in your eyes.

“Win the fight,” is all you can do to answer her. That will be what will make you believe her. When she brings you the head of the fallen Yautjas who will bring upon a fight that will challenge We’ar-ow in every sense of the word.

Her gaze hardened, mandibles pulled tight towards her mouth. Then, the Yautja leaned down and pressed them against your forehead in a mock kiss. “That I will, little ooman. That I will. All in the name of you. That scum will fall at my feet from my hands. Then, you won’t have to worry no longer.”

That eased the majority of the tension coiling in your muscles. But not all of it. You could still feel its burn in the back of your throat like acid. A feeling that would never go away. Not until the problem had been dealt with at the source. You prayed to their god, Paya, for this day to go the way you wanted. To see We’ar-ow’s beautiful face at the end of the day.

In tandem, side by side, you left the safety of her quarters for the hallways of her ship. Whatever shield that place put over you washed away the moment you stepped into the hallway. Less doors to protect you from the hazards of being on a Yautja mothership. You walked with your shoulders squared and back. A stance of pride that was felt in each step you took.

The doors of the elevator opened to reveal a face you were relieved to see. Xilomere. Him and his goofy, alien smile was a sight for sore eyes. You almost ran up to him to give him a hug. Today is a day you needed all the support possible. Anything to get you through the events planned.

Next to him was someone you’ve only seen once before. One of We’ar-ow’s sister’s who is on her council team. You politely dipped your head at her with a closed lip smile. The last thing you wanted to do was piss off her. We’ar-ow had enough to deal with today. She doesn’t need to put herself into a problem you created. Well, another problem you created.

“Xilomere, I’m so glad to see you,” you spoke, your face spilt with a closed smile. Your eyes shined with your feelings.

The green male set his palm on your shoulder and gave a welcoming shake. “I wouldn’t miss today even if I was legless. Plus, someone needs to keep an eye out just encase Dwainet is gonna play games. Who knows if he’ll break some more rules today.” The helped more to ease your racing heart. He was going to protect you while We’ar-ow fought. Like he said, who knows if Dwainet may send one of his goons after you while We’ar-ow is distracted.

Her sister, a beautiful shade of tans, beiges, and browns, huffed at Xilo. “So will I,” she rumbled and looked down at you. “I will protect you from any harm. I promise both you and my sister this.” Your heart soften even more from her words. The two of them, barely knowing, are willing to put their lives on the line in case of an attack for you. It was probably mainly for We’ar-ow but still.

You dipped your head deeply. “Thank you. I can’t say enough how much I appreciate that. Truly, thank you.” They returned to motion themselves.

We’ar-ow stepped up behind you and held both of your shoulders. “It is time we go. Dunkot is escorting the prisoners as we speak,” the pink Yautja wormed her way into the conversation. Not that you minded. You tilted your head back, throat completely exposed, to look up at her. The monarch of this ship was willing to put her neck out for you. To keep you protected. Not even Dwainet had done that.

Clearly, you’ve found the one.

As if the four of you were marching like soldiers, you stepped in time with one another. We’ar-ow kept the pace slow enough for you to easily keep up. You march side by side with her. Xilomere and her sister watched your backs the entire time.

Instead of the normal pathing to the throne room you were used to, We’ar-ow led the four of you down a different set of hallways and elevators. Down to the kehrites. A section of the ship you barely have been down to. Not unless you were begging for trouble that is.

All four of your entered the kehrites. Your jaw dropped though. These weren’t the mediocre sized classroom kehrites. No, they had knocked down all of the walls somehow and put in a few risers.

Every available space was consumed by the hundreds of bodies squished into the open area. There was even young children and unbloodeds who were stationed at the front for the best possible view.

A section in the middle of everyone was open and set up with a stage. We’ar-ow wanted everyone to see her beat Dwainet into the ground like the way he deserves. The way needs to be put down like the asshole he is. He doesn’t deserve to breath the same air as you. You couldn’t wait for the end but at the same time, you didn’t even want the battle to start. Not with We’ar-ow’s life on the line.

Your head held up high, you followed We’ar-ow over to a designated section carved out for you and your bodyguards. A seat that resembled a throne had been set up. The perfect size for you. It wasn’t fancy like We’ar-ow’s in the throne room but it was more than enough to state your status. She motioned you to climb the three stairs and sit upon it.

The plush seat met your butt allowed you comfort. It gave you an additional height against the larger aliens that filled this room. You didn’t feel small. We’ar-ow looked at you. You looked at her.

Everything else didn’t matter. You reached out despite your brain screaming at you that it was a bad idea. We’ar-ow leaned in and allowed for your hand to cup her cheek. Her warmth raced up your fingertips to settle in your heart. You had found a way to love again and that too was threatened all over again. It burned you had no way to help or fix this problem you created. You could only trust We’ar-ow to overcome the challenge that stood in her way to having you strictly to herself.

Xilomere and We’ar-ow’s sister stood directly on either side of you. His usually goofy expression was replaced by a hardened look that would take years to perfect. A warrior born and raised for the fight. The sister had one as well. Both were armed to the teeth with weapons. Unlike you who was adorn with soft, plush cloth for a gentle figure, they were prepared to take down an army if it came down to that.

The softer texture of We’ar-ow’s face rubbed against your palm. You tugged her closer to you and pushed your forehead against hers. Screw whatever anyone might think about this. You didn’t care. Not when everything was on the line. Your livelihood, your love, the one person you’ve found comfort in.

“Win this. My heart is yours,” you stated firmly, nails biting into the skin behind her jaw before letting go and leaning back into the throne.

We’ar-ow returned to her full height. “Mine has been yours since the beginning.”

Shock filled your system. You opened your mouth to respond but the sound of marching feet interrupted you. We’ar-ow turned her back on you to face the oncoming fleet.

Your thoughts whirled around inside your head, knocking into each and causing chaos in the making. There was no time to reel them in either. The best you could do in the moment was to shove them into a box and close the lid. Because, the moment a familiar form stepped around the corner, you pulled on your stoic façade and stared the beast. The monster who caused all of this. All of this for his moment in the spotlight.

Duknot practically dragged the dishonorable male into the room. He wouldn’t allow for him to attempt to walk and forced him to stumble and flail. Humiliation. Two other males were secured in chains behind Dwainet. Their guards weren’t as demanding.

From their faces and low amount of scars, neither were high ranking. Three low ranks against a monarch. You were feeling a little better at the realization. Her chances of winning had increased.

All three of them were shoved onto the stage. Their chains didn’t allow for them to catch themselves. You bite at the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing outright when they fell on their faces. Dunkot’s expression cracked with a hint of smirk. Then, he hopped onto the stage with two other guards.

Dwainet was hauled up by Duknot’s strength alone and placed back onto his feet. A hardy glare was sent to the guard but it was simply brushed off. In unison, the chains crashed to the ground. The sound echoing throughout the room after everyone had gone quiet. You felt your heart stuttered at the fact the traitor had been freed.

At your sides stood your guards. At your front stood the first and last person who would fight until her dying breath for you. You were safe.

Now, on the platform, Dwainet stood tall and scanned the crowd before his sharp eyes landed on you. Yet, you acted no different. A neutral expression is all he was faced with. He could see you from over We’ar-ow’s shoulders. She corrected this by sidestepping and blocking his vision. All the attention on her now.

His companions climbed to their feet as well and rubbed at their sore risks. From the space, you couldn’t hear what their chittered to one another. The translator unable to pick up from that far.

This was it.

On We’ar-ow’s side, she unclipped her combi-stick and opened it up. With a mighty slam, a loud clang gathered everyone’s attention to her now.

“Thank you all for coming to this special occasion. A lot has occurred over these last few weeks. A lot of information circulating between everyone. I’ve come to quell this unrest once and for all. Dwainet will succumb to the crimes he’s completed,” We’ar-ow started off when she rallied the entire clan’s attention to her.

Her voice echoed throughout the expanded room. “From this moment on, he has been deemed as a bad blood. He’s attacked a defenseless, weaponless creature. My pet under my protection had been injured by him. A crime such like that has brought upon his fate as a bad blood.” You couldn’t help up internally flinching at the reminder. It still felt fresh after all this time. To have someone you once loved so much attempt to murder you.

Horrible laughter rung out from the platform. “Oh, monarch. You can’t even protect the worthless pet in your protection.” Dwainet scanned the surrounding area. “You are weak. You are fragile. I can’t wait to beat you into the bloody pulp since day one. The title as monarch will be mine and you will be dead,” Dwainet boomed and kept his gaze moving.

You could tell he was trying to rile the clan up. In the presence of their monarch, no one even said a sound. The tension and fear palpable in the air.

With her back to you, you could feel the smirk etching its way onto her face. She expanded her arms out at her sides. “No one agrees with you, Dwainet. They see the truth. I true with a mighty fist but I know how much strength to use. I know the limitations. I know what this clan needs.” You hoped that the truth. We’ar-ow was a once in a lifetime leader. One that is needed in every clan across the board. Dwainet, he was the opposite of what We’ar-ow stood for.

A snarl ripped through Dwainet throat, his claws flexing at his side. You smirked and sat up straighter in your throne. You were heavily proud of We’ar-ow.

“Now, are you going to keep bickering or are you going to face your fate? I’ve got plans after this,” We’ar-ow drawled and crossed her arms.

Dwainet glanced behind him where his helpers stood. One was clearly nervous at the upcoming battle. The other was attempting to hold it in. These were just newly bloods like Dwainet himself. They weren’t as skilled as We’ar-ow. What was Dwainet thinking?

His gaze returned to her. “You shouldn’t have. There is nothing for you after this except for meeting Cetanu,” he growled and stomped down a foot on the platform. You could feel the eyeroll coming from We’ar-ow without her even looking at you. One that Dwainet whole heartily deserved.

We’ar-ow glanced over her shoulder one last time before marching straight into battle. The muscles that lined her back rippled with each step. Where her heart resides was protected by her metal armor covered by a pelt she earned herself. Both on her chest and back.

You couldn’t help but peek at the two body guards standing at your sides. Xilomere held onto his Combistick, his gaze directly in front of him and scanned the area thoroughly. We’ar-ow’s sister brandished two dual swords while preforming the same action. Both were on high alert. You were grateful for them and their willingness to do this.

The comfort of We’ar-ow’s presences left you. It was your turn to hold down the fort and wait for her return. You gripped the arms of the throne, white knuckling it before glancing at the sister again.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind. You nervously flickered your gaze around before leaning towards her. “I’ve realized I never caught your name,” you whispered in the quiet space, mindful of how loud your voice could grow.

“T'ah'keiad,” she calmly states yet never looks down at you. That would compromise her job as a body guard. Your eyes widened at the interesting name, lips pressed together. “For your ooman mind to understand, you can call me Kei.” You were thankful she understood her name may be difficult at first to speak. Your head dipped in thanks.

Then, you returned to scene unfolding before your very eyes.

We’ar-ow simply stepped onto the platform and towered over the males that opposed her. “Duknot, relieve their weapons to them,” she rumbled but kept a keen eye on Dwainet. He was the only one she truly had to worry about. She knew his tactics and how sneak he really could be. The others, she may not know how they fight but they couldn’t be worse than Dwainet. He was a disdain on her clanship.

The skin of your bottom lip was worried away by dull teeth. You couldn’t help it. Not with her standing directly in front of Dwainet and allowing for them to have their weapons. They were already adorn in meek armor. Armor that is what many new bloods only have. They don’t have enough ‘street cred’ to get anything better from any of the merchants.

Not once did We’ar-ow turn her back to Dwainet or his two helpers. Instead, she backed up to the edge of the platform and waited.

Dunkot stood in the middle like a referee. Two of the guards produced said weapons and handed them over. They returned to the flat ground and stood off to the side. Dunkot stayed in the center.

“As requested by our Monarch We’ar-ow, this challenge will be a battle to the death. Whoever is last to stand will be proclaimed at the new monarch per our rules. May your hands be true!” His voice boomed out over the area. Roars echoed from the crowd afterwards, deafening. You clapped your hands over your ears to protect them from terrible sound. It barely saved your ear drums from exploding.

Then, he left the platform. A strange shimmer rolled down from the ceiling and surrounded the platform. It was a shield to protect the crowd. Smart.

Before you had a chance to contemplate all of this, a loud bell sounded. Instantly, you knew what that meant.

In your throne, you had a front row seat to watch the fight unfold your very worried eyes. Despite your brain desperately wanting for you turn away and cower like the prey everyone thought you as, you held unsteadily strong. You watched with baited breath when We’ar-ow lifted up a crossbow and shot off a bolt directly at Dwainet.

The young male is able to narrowly dodge the flying bolt by rolling to the side. But, his partners in crime aren’t as lucky. It strikes one directly in the shoulder and pushes him back against the invisible shield. He chokes on a grunt and grabs at the bolt. The wood was snapped off to leave just the head inside but the damage had been dealt.

Dwainet goes for offense. He’s swift to get into We’ar-ow’s personal space. Flurries of kicks and punches were all deflected in matter of seconds. His hits hard, mean, likely to leave a bruise later on.

One of the other Yautjas tries to attack from the back. We’ar-ow ducks a hit from Dwainet and sticks out a leg to trip the darker red Yautja behind her. They fumble then fall back.

Finally, the last Yautja, a lighter red comes in by launching himself into the air. He believed We’ar-ow was distracted. She grasped Dwainet’s throat then aimed her crossbow once more at the already injured male. A bolt flies. It strikes him square in the chest. He fumbles and smashes in the space in front of We’ar-ow. The pink Yautja slams Dwainet down and picks up a foot.

The light Yautja’s head is crushed below her heel like the insect he was. Green blood stains the ground and coats the shield. You gasped and overed your mouth.

A throwing knife sticks out of We’ar-ow’s side. She acts no different. Her hand squeezing the life out of Dwainet. More pierce her hide to the point she picked up Dwainet again and threw him into the red Yautja.

They collided harshly with each other before slamming into the shield and flopping to the ground a pile. We’ar-ow moves with purpose over to the two scrambling forms. The crossbow back on her hip. She swipes Dwainet off of the ground again by his throat and holds him up. Her foot presses into the vulnerable area of the downed Yautja. The rings protecting his skin barely able to hold against her weight.

Her only foot on the ground is swiped from underneath her. Dwainet is allowed to be let loose. She is able to roll onto her stomach as claws swiped for her torso. Your eyes widened at the sight of her blood staining the floor this time. You sat more forward in your chair and played with your hands.

Red gets on top of her and grabs harshly at her neatly braided tresses. He pulls. We’ar-ow yanks her head forward. You gasped. Loose dreads hang in his hands, bleeding at the roots. You knew that had to hurt a lot.

We’ar-ow rams her elbow into Red’s side and knocks the wind out of him. A foot flies towards her face. She narrowly dodges a bad blow and latches her fangs into flesh. Dwainet roars and yanks his ankle from her mouth. Blood dripping down from the new wound.

Rage is a wildfire in his eyes. You had to stop yourself from curling into yourself at the sight. He snatches an axe from his belt and swung high above his head. No! You covered your mouth with both of your hands, unable to do anything to stop it.

In a terrifying slowness, it came down. Here you were, stuck in your chair, with a shield blocking you from the love of your life. You were forced to watch as Dwainet brought down the axe.

Her name left you lips in a cry.

The sickening sound of the axe sinking in will forever haunt your mind. You flinched away from the sight and covered your ears, unable to watch the final blow.

Dwainet roars. Pained. Confusion flooded your system. You picked up your head and looked back at the platform. Red was off of her back. Both of the male had been lifted up by their necks, forced to claw at her hands. The axe was imbedded into the metal floor besides were We’ar-ow’s head once was.

The pink female shoved both of the males against the shield directly in front of you. Her eyes pinned to your shaking form. You uncurled from your cowering position and looked up at her through blurry eyes. The sight of her alive form had your body sagging. She was okay. She was alive.

We’ar-ow dropped red then swiftly kicked one of his knees. A sickening crack echoing over the roars and cheers of the riled up clan. He dropped down where she knocked him down onto his back. In a similar fashion, she stomped down on his head, caving in his face. He too was dead.

You didn’t even flinch this time. Your eyes watched every move.

In her hand, Dwainet struggled and wriggled like a worm. His claws dug into her arms, anything to grant him release. He couldn’t get out of Dwainet fatal hold.

His feet dangled above the platform. We’ar-ow was able to hold him up without the aid of both arms or the shield. She snatched both of his wrists though and leaned forward. Your head tilted, brows furrowing on why she was making herself vulnerable for attack. Her mandibles twitched with words that your translator couldn’t pick up. You couldn’t only imagine what she was promising.

Then, he went soaring through the air and smashed into the ground and rolled before coming to a stop. He groaned while on his back. We’ar-ow unsheathed a machete from her waist band and brandished. The sharpened edge glinted from the overhead lights.

At her approach, Dwainet scrambled to his feet a moment to late. We’ar-ow swung and struck his forearm, just below his elbow. The blade sliced clean through muscle and bone alike. The injured Yautja choked on a cry and stumbled back and clutched at his profusely bleeding arm. You jerked your head back, eyes expanded at the terrifying sight before you.

His amputated arm flopped to the floor in a bloody, neon green heap. This when it finally hit you that this is where Dwainet was going to die. This was truly happening. Dwainet was about to be murdered right in front of you by your… mate. You just stayed sat and watched everything.

A snarl ripped from Dwainet’s throat. He glared daggers at We’ar-ow with a passion of hatred. With his only hand reminding, he brandished at  knife and raised it above his head. The blade came down. We’ar-ow meets the offending hand with her own weapon. The cut was clean through his wrist as well. Another cry croaked from his hoarse throat. He collapsed to his knees as blood spurted from his amputated hands.

He didn’t raise his head to look death in the eye. We’ar-ow used the tip of her machete to tip his head up. Something primal and deep rumbled from her chest. Dwainet’s entire body froze as if he saw Cetanu himself. She stepped behind his deer in headlights position and faced you.

Despite the distance, you met her gaze. The machete was clipped to her belt again. We’ar-ow grasped his tresses with one hand. The male grunts and folds his mandibles in tightly to his face. His expression neutral. He knew what was to come.

We’ar-ow’s muscles flexed. A sharp crack pierced through the air. Life still shone in Dwainet’s grey eyes. Then, a roar sounded from your mate. Flesh and muscles alike ripped in a grotesque sound. You had to stop yourself from throwing up your lunch, but neither could you look away.

Green, neon blood dripped down to pool on the platform. Cheers of triumph echoed throughout the modified stadium. You could feel the ground rumbling underneath you, but all was quiet. The dead eyes of your ex-mate staring directly into your soul. The finale had come to a close. We’ar-ow stands as the winner once and for all.

Sound floods back into your ears, deafening to the point they rung. The shimmer of the shield faded away and allowed We’ar-ow freedom. The pink Yautja was the only one to move. Her thick legs dropped down from the platform and marched straight towards you. As much as you wanted to leap out of your chair and ensnared her in a hug, the blood of her enemies painting her skin reframed you.

Her yellow eyes met yours for an infinity. One of her knees dropped to the floor causing a silence to steal the noise of everyone. All was quiet. You gasped, instantly knowing a monarch kneeling was trouble.

In her bloodied hands, she presented you the head of Dwainet. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Your name was boomed across the room. “Do you accept this trophy as a gift of courtship?” We’ar-ow asked and watched every little sign from your expressions. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Gasps from the crowd could be heard. Chitters and clicks as the translator only focused on the Yautja in front of you.

She was asking for you to be her mate… in front of the clan. She was laying claim over you more than the mark etched into your skin.

A few seconds ticked by. You nodded rapidly and rushed forwards. The head was dodged. Your arms wrapped tightly around We’ar-ow’s neck in hold she wouldn’t dare try to get you off. The blood of four was rubbed into your skin, including the life essence dripping from her missing tresses. We’ar-ow was swift to return the gesture, understanding this meant ‘yes’ in human.

Bellows escaped from the crowd but it was a sound you could care less about. Today was the day that marked the new chapter in your life. A newfound freedom from the chains Dwainet had weighed down on you. You had power not even the highest Yautja aboard this ship besides the monarch has. From the bottom of the barrel to sitting on a throne, you’ve grown.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 17 | Part 18

[thebest-medicine]

May I request lee bakugo + bakusquad + midoriya + 92: “Hey are you guys okay? I heard yelling (from the hall / outside) and— oh.”

Explosively Ticklish [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

Prompt 92 - “Hey are you guys okay? I heard yelling from the hall / outside and— oh.”

A/N: gang tickling for my sweet sweet stubborn lee Bakugo ?? <3 1000 kisses for you anon. This one uhhh.. got longer than expected. So it’s under a cut (~850 words) [continued, part 2]

…

“Hey are you guys okay? I heard yelling from the hall and— oh.” He freezes.

Bakugo looks up at him with a searing glare, his entire face red and his eyes scrunched in what almost appears to be …mirthful.

Deku stares, blinks.

Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido stare back at him for a beat. Then, they burst into laughter, continuing what they were doing before he interrupted, which appears to be trying to pin Bakugo to the floor.

Midoriya comes back to himself in time to see Kirishima and Sero pinning Bakugo’s hands up high above his head as he screeches at them to ‘fuck off’ to no avail.

“W-what are you doing?” Izuku asks, dumbfounded. “Are you…?”

“This blasty jerk has tickled us for the last time! It’s time we got our revenge!” Mina decrees.

“Shut up!” Bakugo yells in response. “Get off me!” He tugs at his now pinned arms. “—Stupid! Won’t even work!”

Izuku giggles at that, taking a step closer before he even thinks about it. “That’s pretty wishful thinking, Kacchan.” He snickers quietly and leans down.

“Nonono fuck off, nerd!” Katsuki hisses as Deku approaches. Bakugo sputters, barely holding in a laugh when he realizes Mina and Denki each have a leg pinned down and they’re reaching his knees to squeeze and tickle. Deku kneels beside them, smiling with a hint of a blush under his freckles. Two more hands join in - Hanta and Ejirou - poking under his arms. “Fuck you guys! D-Don’t!” He whines, biting his lip.

“Ha! Not ticklish, my ass!” Kirishima cheers, digging in more to try and get a bigger reaction. Katsuki is tense, his eyes squeezing shut now. He holds his breath.

Izuku presses his fingers in a hesitant wiggle against Kacchan’s stomach, which sucks in slightly at the touch.

“Mmmnnnn-” Bakugo grunts, shaking his head as he struggles against his friends and the laughter bubbling in his chest. “Pff-nnnno—”

“Aww, you’ll feel better if you just laugh, Kacchan~.” Deku teases, gaining confidence in both his voice and tickling. His fingers skate across Bakugo’s middle as he jerks minutely side to side.

Bakugo shakes his head vehemently, growling to cover up a stray laugh. “Stop!” It comes out so high pitched and bubbly that it doesn’t sound like Bakugo at all.

“Not yet, big guy.” Sero says, scratching over to Katsuki’s neck, getting a scrunch for his efforts.

“Awww, he’s totally breaking!” Mina asserts, looking over her shoulder. “I’m gonna try his feet!” She leans forward just as Bakugo scrunches his toes. “How bout it, Blasty? Ticklish here?”

“No!” He can only safely respond with one syllable at a time, it seems.

Kaminari follows her lead, leaning down to grab Bakugo’s other foot. They each try to pry back the respective toes of their captive foot — successfully, much to Bakugo’s distress. When two sets of nails start scratching the balls of his feet, Bakugo shouts again. This time, it could almost be called a shriek.

“Come on, don’t worry, you can be ticklish and still be manly.” Kirishima assures his friend with a smirk, tickling more intently under his arm now.

Izuku takes a few moments looking over Kacchan’s body, seeing what the others are doing. They’re close. He smiles softly and positions both of his hands right at the bottoms of Bakugo’s ribs. He squeezes the bones gently, wiggling his fingers.

“HA-noOO! Shahahaddup! Nohoho! Fuhuhuhuck!” Katsuki swears as the ballooning laughter inside of his forces its way out. It’s all too much to hold back. There’s too many of them. They’re doing too many things. It’s too many spots. His brain fuzzes over like he’s taken a few too many loose volts from Dunce Face. He hears mirthful laughter, and realizes a second later it’s coming from him. Though, the others are laughing too, somewhere beyond him, unreachable.

“Ha! Oh my gosh! Your laugh is soooo cute!” Mina cheers, still tickling away. She’s trying to pry her way under his toes.

“Seriously, I can’t believe I was scared of you a few months ago!” Denki chides, tickling over the top of his foot. “Listen to that giggle!”

“Fuhuhuhuhuhu- hahaha k-ha off!” Bakugo wheezes between laughs.

“Seriously, we have to get you back more often.” Sero beams down at him, tickling between his armpits and his upper ribs, which really seem to get him going.

“That’s for sure!” Kirishima smiles, shark-like.

Izuku laughs lightly along with them, tickling random spots along Kacchan’s ribs and stomach. He pokes at his bellybutton and hips a few times, getting plenty of squirming for his efforts. Bakugo shouts empty threats through his laughter, squeaking and embarrassed until his friends finally have pity on him after a while of exacting their revenge. They’ll all pay for this. That for sure. But they’ll enjoy it while it lasts! That’s for sure too!

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further MHA drabbles on ao3]

[bigbabycry]

Mess - Drew Starkey

Drew Starkey x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You and Drew get distracted when getting ready to go out for dinner with the OBX cast, leaving the two of you to tease each other and cause trouble once you finally make it to the restaurant.

Warnings: mature content; suggestive acts, dry humping, explicit language, lowkey a shitty ending.

You’re late. You and Drew were meant to leave 10 minutes ago to meet your friends for your long-awaited cast dinner, but you got distracted when bending over to put your heels on, Drew coming up behind you and caressing your hips. His lips attached to your neck, whispering into your skin about how beautiful you look, about how he can’t keep his hands to himself. Drew grew frustrated as you pulled away from him. By the time you reapplied your lip gloss and wiped Drew’s face, you were already extremely late and questioning whether it was worth it to leave now. But you grabbed Drew’s hand and led him to his car, leaving for the restaurant

Drew takes your arm as you enter the fancy building, hoping the cast is still seated. Your heels click along the tiled floor as you are led to the table the group is at. Madelyn’s eyes light up when she sees you walk towards her, grabbing your hand and pulling you down next to her. Your eyes meet Drew’s with a smirk as he stares at you, upset you didn’t finish what you has started at home. He takes the seat in front of you. Madelyn eyes you and Drew as you all engage in conversation, but below the table you and Drew’s feet are knocking against each other, making you send each other childish smirks.

Before the food arrives, Madelyn whispers into your ear. “What’s going on with Drew?” She asks, still watching the grin on Drew’s face as he speaks to JD.

Your eyebrows raise up when you turn your head to Madelyn, cocking your head to the side, “Drew?” Your eyes dart over to the man before returning to Maddie. “Nothing? Is there something wrong?” Your mind lingers on the thought of his rough hands on your body, distracting you from leaving.

Madelyn only rolls her eyes at you and nudges your thigh with her own. “Don’t be stupid, you guys have been practically eye fucking each other.”

Her voice is a little loud which makes you glance around the group, watching everyone’s faces as they engage in their own conversations. Except for Drew, whose blue eyes are glued to the front of your dress. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you look back to Madelyn. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A laugh leaves your lips at Madelyn’s frown but Drew’s foot against yours distracts you from her again, so you turn to him and watch as he leans closer over the table.

“Did you get a drink?” He smiles at you as you shake your head, wetting your lips with your tongue. A throaty huff leaves his lips as he watches you nibble on your bottom lip. “Want me to get you something?”

You look down to the drink menu in front of you, looking at the options. Drew’s eyes stay on you as you look down in front of you, still chewing on your lip. He shifts his hips as you look back up to him, giving him the sweetest smile and telling him what you’d like. He nods and makes his way over to the bar to order for the both of you.

Some of the food arrives at the table before he returns with two drinks, and you are more than delighted when your food is placed in front of you. Drew carefully puts your drinks beside your food and sits down again, engaging in Chase and JD’s conversation. You begin to dig into your food, glancing up at Drew who is still talking to the boys. You admire the way he looks in his black button up shirt and jeans. Without hesitating, you stretch your leg forward and nudge his calf with the toe of your shoe, which makes him look to you. His eyes once again fall to the front of your dress where your cleavage is showing. He watches the way you tilt your head to the side with false innocence. Before he knows it, your foot is trailing up his calf and to his thigh, causing his breath to get caught in his throat.

A waiter places Drew’s food in front of him and glances at you, possibly noticing the way your foot glides up and down his leg, nudging his thighs to spread out. You take a sip from your drink, looking at Drew through your eyelashes as you sip on your straw. Your foot starts to rub against his upper thigh, feeling his movements as he adjusts and eats his food, trying to keep himself composed. You understand how you left him high and dry after grinding against each other before leaving to the dinner. You understand how he begged you to stay, and that the dinner didn’t matter. A smirk grows on your lips as you place your foot directly in between his legs, feeling the tightness of his jeans around the bulge. He raises his eyebrows and holds his breath.

The look in his eyes tells you to stop, but you feel the way his body is reacting. He clears his throat when you gently push down onto his hard-on making your grin on your face grow wider. Drew’s hand reaches for your ankle and begins to run his fingers up and down your bare skin. The both of you stare at each other, his eyes darkening with lust.

“You’re a tease.” He mouths to you with one eyebrow raised.

You send him a sweet smiles and look back down to your food, continuing to eat but still pressing the bottom of your heel against his pants. You hear Drew let out an aggressive cough, his breath hitching in his throat as he grabs your calf, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He shakes his head at you as a few people from the cast watch him as he looks down. He has to adjust again in his seat, his hard-on becoming extremely uncomfortable. He rubs himself, hoping JD, who is seated next to him, doesn’t notice.

The night goes on slowly. Too slowly for Drew. Your foot is still in between his thighs, but the firm hold he has on your ankle stops you from doing anything. Drews breathing is extremely uneven when you speak to him with a sickly-sweet voice, or when he has to stop himself from following when you and the Maddie’s get up to use the bathroom. Now you all stand outside, hugging each other goodbye. Drew stands behind you and you can feel his hard cock rubbing into your lower back when you move. Once the two of you are alone, walking to the car, Drew pushes your back against the metal of his car and grinds himself into your thigh.

“God, you’re the worst.” He groans into your ear, making a small whimper fall from your lips as he recklessly pushes his groin into your hips.

You struggle to find a reply, loving the attention he’s giving you. He leans in close, his breath hot against your neck as you whimper at the feeling of him grinding greedily against you. His hand finds your hips, pulling you closer until you can feel the heat emanating from his body as he presses against you.

Hot and heavy breaths leave your lips as you try to whisper to him, “Jesus, Drew.”

He groans, his hips moving faster against yours, feeling the head of his cock pressing against your leg, desperate for entry. One of his hands reaches up to grip the car door above your head, holding himself up as he grinds recklessly into you, making you moan his name out, pleasure starting to build between your legs. You roll your head back, the back of your head hitting the glass of the window as you moan in pleasure, his erratic grinds driving you wild as your body burns.

Drew’s lips brush against your earlobe, his teeth grazing softly as he whispers, “I hate you. You’re so bad for teasing me, baby.” His hips continue to move against yours, his clothed cock leaving a wet trail in his pants as he feels himself about to reach his climax. With you pushing your hips against his, Drew’s grip on the car door tightens as he releases and spills his cum into his pants, his breathing and groans becoming louder. His body becomes limp as he rests his body against yours, his forehead resting on the glass.

You stare at him in shock. “Oh, baby”, You coo, running your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp to soothe him from his high, his laboured breaths loud in your ear.

Drews eyes flutter open, his face still pressed against the glass. He looks down as his pants, noting the wet patch in his jeans, then back up at you with a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that… guess I got carried away.”

You laugh and rest your arms on his shoulders, continuing to run your fingers through his now sweaty hair. “It’s ok, baby. It’s my fault. I was messing with you all night.” You raise your eyebrows at him with a sorry but loving look, knowing that you don’t regret a thing. Loving the way he desperately rubbed himself against you.

He chuckles and leans his head against you, “can we go home before someone sees this.” He gestures down to his crotch with a laugh.

You nod your head in agreement, wanting to spare him from the embarrassment. You lead up and press a kiss to his cheek, turning around to get into the passenger’s side, laughing to yourself when he quickly walks to the driver’s side, covering his crotch.

[unfortunate17]

Heyyy, I don't know if you're still taking prompts but in case you are

Wilmon+

"I will do whatever it takes!"

Sophia 💕💕 of course I’m still taking prompts and even if I wasn’t, I always will for you! Here’s some fluffy vampire!Wille 👀

"I’ll do whatever it takes," Wille tries to make his voice chipper, like he’s actually excited about the prospect of a desk job. “Just let me know when you make your decision.”

The woman on the other end of the line assures him that he’ll hear back very soon, which, knowing the Coven, could either be fifty days or fifty years, before she promptly hangs up on him.

Wilhelm sighs deeply, making his way up the stairs. It’s late, or very early depending on who you ask, the sky a mess of deep, dark blue and purple. He’s exhausted after a long night of work, a bone deep tiredness weighing down his entire body. All Wille wants to do is take a warm shower and collapse into bed, maybe even squeeze in an hour or so of cuddling Simon before he has to be up for work.

When he finally steps over the threshold, the apartment is dark and quiet, the gentle sounds of Simon’s white noise machine whirring from the bedroom. Wilhelm toes off his shoes with a soft smile, shucking his suit jacket and tossing it into the hamper. He’s almost tempted to skip the shower, but Simon doesn’t like it when Wille gets into bed chilly from his walk home from the Coven offices, so he hops in under the spray, trying his best to take the quickest shower possible.

His stomach is rumbling by the time he finishes, the first tendrils of thirst building up the back of his throat. Groaning in annoyance, he checks the fridge, but there’s nothing in there besides a questionably dated, half-empty bag of goat’s blood that Wille polishes off, hoping for the best.

He knows that he needs to stock up, but he’s been so busy with prepping for this interview that he hasn’t had the chance to go down to the market. Simon’s offered to do it for him multiple times last week, but Wilhelm is a picky eater, and he prefers to pick out his own blood. Still, he knows he has to make time for it soon - Simon doesn’t particularly appreciate it when he skips meals, says it made him look gaunt and even more pale than usual.

Even worse, Simon had the habit of lazily offering Wille his own arm, like he expected Wille to actually bite him. As if Wilhelm would ever willingly puncture Simon’s perfect, precious skin. Even imaging the soft hiss of pain Simon would let out, the slight spasm of discomfort that would snake across his lovely face is enough to make Wilhelm’s stomach curdle.

Simon, of course, just rolls his eyes at him and claims that he’s being ridiculous. “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal,” he’d joked once, baring his truly impressive, human canines, “I’d bite you if I needed to.”

“Of course you would,” Wilhelm had scoffed in reply, almost giddy at the prospect of yet another, silly spat, “but I actually love you and would never do anything to hurt you.”

That, of course, had immediately kicked off an argument, only concluded by the two of them taking turns sucking bruises into each other’s necks.

Wilhelm pushes the door to their bedroom open as quietly as possible. Sure enough, Simon is under the covers, star fished across the bed and snoring softly. He’s still holding his phone in one hand and the sight makes Wille’s cold, dead heart quiver in his chest. Except when he moves to join him, he finds himself hissing, the sole of his right foot coming in contact with a blistering heat.

Instinctively, he yelps, springing back and crashing into the chest of drawers behind him. The rattling wakes Simon, who blinks up at the ceiling for a moment, stretching as he moves to sit up.

“Wille?” he yawns, voice thick with sleep.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Wille whispers in reply, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He tries to take another step towards the bed, but he’s met with the same fate, a burning heat flaring out near his toes. He squints down at the dark carpet in the low moonlight, “Is that - garlic salt?”

Now, Simon looks fully awake. He sits up against the headboard, crossing his arms stoutly. “Yeah,” he deadpans, “it is.”

Wille blinks at him, taking in the ropes of silver jewelry around Simon’s neck, the plethora of rings adorning his fingers, and the little silver hoops in his ears. “Are you - but why?”

Simon scoffs then, checking his phone. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Wille winces. “I’m sorry,” he offers, “I’ve just been so busy with - ”

“You weren’t here when I got home either,” Simon snaps, his eyes narrowing. “You went to work early. And you said you’d be back before two, so I waited - and waited - and now it’s almost six. I have to get up soon, Wille.”

“I’m sorry,” Wille begs. He pads across the room, trying to find a dent in the salt, but Simon has clearly been very thorough with his work. “Baby, please. I miss you.”

“No you don’t,” Simon scowls, “you’re too busy at work to miss me.”

Wille throws up his hands, “I’m trying to get a promotion, remember?”

“But I barely see you!”

Now, Wille rolls his eyes, “I’ve worked late twice this week, Simon. I don’t think that counts as barely seeing me.”

Simon scoffs, pulling the duvet up as he sides back into bed. “Well in that case, you can sleep on the couch.”

“Wait, no - I didn’t mean - ” Wille scrambles, doing his best to stay calm, “let’s do something this weekend, okay? We can - let’s go on a date, okay?”

Simon’s eyes peek out from over the covers. “Can I pick the place?”

“Of course,” Wille assures him gently, “we’ll do whatever you want, my love.”

Simon smiles, closing his eyes. “Okay.”

Wille waits. Then sighs. “You’re not going to let me in are you? Because - ”

Simon raises a hand to point to the door, eyes still shut. He’s obviously fighting back a smile. “The couch is out there,” he bites down on his lower lip, exactly where Wille wishes he could put his own teeth. “Also - I want pancakes for breakfast.”

Now, Wille rolls his eyes, turning back to the living room. “Pancakes it is.”’

But before he can shut the door behind him, Simon’s voice calls out again, soft and gentle, soaked with sleep once more. “Thank you. I love you, Wille.”

A flare of sharp fondness rises in the space between his ribs. “And I love you, Simon.”

[elliesbelle]

Hi!!! i was wondering if i could maybe request an abby x fem! reader where abby is like a nervous wreck around reader? like, sweaty, beat red in the face, stuttering, and tripping over her own feet and readers super sweet but completely oblivious ?? i’m a sucker for that that trope!! thank you!!

loser!abby around her crush

abby had only recently come out, having realized she’s a lesbian only after she was finally in her 20s

she’s had crushes on girls before, of course, but it wasn't something she'd fully processed at the time

and now when she develops crushes, it’s much more different in that she’s more aware of herself

doesn't stop her from being a complete anxious mess, though

the first time she laid eyes on you, she goes almost slack-jawed and nearly drools on herself

abby’s usually a very cool and confident person

but girls? she’s unfortunately the definition of a "useless lesbian”

you'd been out for longer than she has, so you're a bit more collected when it comes to being around the girls you like

so when you met her for the first time, you were able to handle yourself well enough in the moment

but it didn't stop your heart from fluttering and your breath from hitching

your inner struggle about your attraction to her distracted you from abby's face flushing and her jaw tightening and her shifting her weight back and forth on her feet

of course you liked her, but you didn't do anything about it because you were absolutely convinced she just saw you as a friend

because of that, you remained completely oblivious to the true reason behind her sudden tense behaviour when you entered the room

you eventually just assumed that was the kind of person she was

you tried not to be too physically affectionate with her because she didn't seem to enjoy it (she did, but the way she reacted to it visually just made it seem like it stressed her out), but that's just the type of person you are, so sometimes you slip without meaning to

whenever you stood next to her, she'd be swaying slightly from side to side in total nervousness

when you're conversing with her one-on-one, she tries to avoid direct eye contact with you out of fear that you would somehow be able to read her yearning thoughts about you

abby's definitely chewed on her lip a little too hard that she's broken skin a few times when she'd be watching you just go about, performing what would seem like the most mundane things to other people. but to her, she would watch you endlessly in awe if she could

you've definitely wondered if you'd made her upset a few times because she'll be rigidly crossing her arms, looking very stiff and uncomfortable when you'd just be hanging out

when in reality, she's just internally chastising herself for pinning so pathetically after you

there have been a few times that your face has gotten a little too close to hers, and her breathing would suddenly get uneasy and she would not stop stuttering and repeating herself and eventually just forgetting any train of thought

any time that your skin would make contact with hers?

on top of her heart beating approximately 100x more than usual, her head and fingers and toes tingling, every beautifully sculpted muscle of hers tensing up, sweating in every crevice possible,

she'd just about nearly passed out every single time from the slightest bit of your touch

it wasn't until one day when you were both walking to a restaurant for lunch, just the two of you, that your obliviousness was lifted ever so slightly

you were walking alongside each other on the sidewalk (abby making sure to keep just enough distance as not to accidentally brush up against you), and you were laughing at some joke abby made

it distracted you enough that the tip of your foot got caught in a crack in the pavement

you would have absolutely eaten shit and gotten a face full of pavement had abby not caught you just in time before you'd completely tripped

you felt her strong, warm arms tightly embrace your figure from behind you, protecting you from the fall

your usual calm composure when it came to your little crush on abby was shaken, with you suddenly sweating and quickly getting woozy

she pulls you up from your bent position, keeping you still wrapped around her arms, and turns you to face her

she inspects your face intensely, unsure if she really did prevent you from getting hurt

you watch her with wide eyes, extremely aware of how her own face was mere inches from yours

when she sighs in relief that you're unharmed, she finally realizes how close you are to each other

you stay completely frozen in this moment of her still holding you tightly, staring at each other intensely

you notice how her eyes drift between your eyes and your lips, and for a second, you think she might actually do something

but the moment passes as she clears her throat and finally releases you before making a joke about your clumsiness

you laugh nervously at it, still nervously reeling from what just happened

there's absolutely no way she could feel the same way about you. right?

author's notes:

sorry this request took forever to get to but here it is finallyyyyy, y'all know i'm slow about requests cause i'm an anal perfectionist, saury

i really need to write more for my girl abby, she deserves the world. y'all just know my heart (and vagina) belong to my wife ellie.

hope this is what you were looking for, anon!

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

[flusteredtuna]

Positions

Valkyrie x !female reader

Contains: ( 18+ Mature Only ) summer fling, nicknames, fingering, oral (f-receiving), f-dom, f-sub behavior, ripping clothes.

Words: 2k+

Summary: Valkyrie is your summer fling and lets you stay at her house today while she’s at work. She gets back late and decides to play with you a bit. And then a lot.

A/N: I rarely tap into my non-platonic women love <3

Your back aligns with your heart and your crown as your toes curl. With your eyes softly shut and lids relaxed, every feeling is more accentuated. Every flex and pull is paid with generous attention. Scrunching a leg up, your knee almost meets your shoulders. Stretching out your thighs like a rubber band. “Good that's it.”

The calming voice eases and cools your spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae. Taking your time you swing your hands to the sky above your head. The shake of the muscles in your core and thighs make it hard to catch your breath at first, but you realign your focus and find the method you need. All the way In and all the way out. Huffing and groaning from your tense lungs pushing air out your mouth. You pivot your foot on the yoga mat and stretch your arms to the side, standing In warrior two.

Valkyrie is your summer fling. She let you stay at her place all day today because she, “wouldn’t be too late.” But now it’s dark out and past dinner. As much as you want to take care of food tonight, you had no idea when she would be home.

But just as you’re thinking of her again, you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder. Moving your headphones to the side to hang around your neck, using the button on the side to pause your Yoga video. Keeping your position you look at her sopping wet hood of hair and cold face, smiling at you. “Keeping busy?” She pushes the stringy soaked hair out of her face as it drips onto the floor.

“Yea, what happened Val? You're all wet?” You slowly put your palms together, taking an inhale and placing your thumbs to center. “Just forgot my raincoat.” Valkyrie looks you up and down and then walks off into the bathroom to dry her hair with a towel and change into something more comfortable. You decide to wrap up your session without guidance and set your headphones to the side.

Taking a deep breath in you slowly plant your hands back onto the mat, shifting your right leg backwards into a plank. Lowering yourself down to the ground you move your hands up to align with your shoulders. You inhale into cobra reaching your head towards the sky and then let it all go as you lower your temple back down to the mat. Lifting again into plank you bend into downward dog, shifting the bend of your knees, and just feeling the fullness of the stretch.

You’re so focused on your alignment that you fail to notice Valkyrie has snuck up on you again, now with a hand grazing your hips as she stands in your blind spot. “You know this position is really distracting.” Her tone is low and predatory. You slowly lean forward and place your knees back to the mat, raising yourself to meet her level as much as you are able.

“I could show you a few other positions if you’re that interested.” You say with an innocent inflection. Your intentions align with hers but playing dumb with her makes the game of cat and mouse all the more fun.

A smile of mischief grows on her face. She steps forward onto your mat and puts a finger to your chin. A play that makes your whole body feel a warm rush, starting at your heart and tickling in expanse. “Show me, angel.”

You smile innocently and guide her to the center of the mat with you. The fact that you're facing each other makes it all the more exciting. “Okay so put your feet hip-width apart and your shoulders back.” You glance at her stance, and nudge her feet a little farther with your foot to a better alignment. “Okay and now close your eyes or hold a soft gaze to the floor. Take a deep breath in.” You hear her inhale deeply with you. “And out.” Her warm exhale hit you as it glided out of her mouth.

“Now slowly swing your arms reaching to the sky on your inhale, and then exhale to lower your shoulders as you continue to reach up.” You open your eyes a little to check how she's following, and she is. Her stance accentuates her godly features which only proved further her worthiness as king of New Asgard and keeper of your heart. You weren’t sure if she was aware of that second title though.

“And we just stay here and breathe for a moment. Make sure your weight is evenly dis-” You’re interrupted by her touch as it softly travels up your shirt from your waist all the way to the cusp of your breasts. “What was that? Make sure my weight is where?” She teases.

Her thumb rubs back and forth on the hill, not even close to granting you the satisfaction of her touching your peaks. You try to focus on your breath again, play it off as hard to get. “Make sure your weight is evenly…distributed on all four corners of your feet.” It was clear she noticed your change in tone due to her hands moving back down to the hem of your shirt. You hold your breath waiting her her to do more.

“Make sure to breathe, love.” Fuck. Her words make it hard for you not to shudder a smidge as your lungs deflate against her touch. She slowly lifts your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts. You hear it get tossed on the floor beside you.

“What’s next?” She doesn’t take advantage of your half vulnerable state, but instead you feel her warmth step back. As you flutter your eyes open a little you find her just how she was when you last checked on her. Her teasing only made you want to tease her just as much. So you continue the lesson without your shirt.

“Okay inhale and on your exhale lower down to forward fold. And you might want to turn so we don’t bonk heads.” She laughs a little, “Got it.” You both turn and fold over. “Yea and just let it all hang for a bit as you breathe.” Although this was a ploy to get you in her bed, you enjoyed the peaceful activity. It was freeing not having anything covering your upper body, letting your breasts touch your thighs made you feel more connected to the practice.

“And you just want to-” You’re interrupted again by her hands on the sides of your thighs. You lift your back a bit to a halfway fold, propping your upper body up with your hands on your knees. “You know I can’t teach you if you’re just going to get distracted, Val.” She didn’t care to listen as she curled a finger to glide on the inside of the waistband of your leggings.

Your small hums give you away. She takes this as a sign to step closer, pressing her pelvis right against you and pulling you close by your hip with her free hand. She was making it hard to not pulse in heat pressed right up against her while her finger sinks in further.

Reaching the outer edge of the band again, she pulls her finger out.

“You know angel…” Carefully she backs up just enough to have room to graze your spandex covered ass and rides her fingers along the center seam. “I’m learning so much.” She says as she continues to follow the stitches lower and lower until she reaches your entrance again. The barrier of fabric doesn't make it difficult for her to make your breath hitch as she starts to press the fabric into your folds.

She pushes your back down to fold again, keeping you supported with a grip on your hip. Your jaw hangs open, letting breathy moans escape from within you. She chuckles at your mental and physical fold for her. You were no longer teaching the lesson.

Feeling her fingers halt their motions, now turned into her hands pulling both sides of the fabric that hugged your upper thighs. You gasp as she rips the seams open, separating the halves of your leggings and creating the perfect window. Her low chuckle sends a sharp feeling rushing towards your cheeks as you remember you weren’t wearing anything under your now destroyed leggings.

You feel her touch again gliding up your slick. Now having access to more of your nerves than before. “Hmm, I didn’t realize Yoga made you so…wet.” Moving her touch away with such stealth again, she denies you the pleasure of her continuing. Slowly rising up you open your eyes and watch her walk back into your sight, standing next to you again.

With a movement of her head, she gestures to you to continue. You try to shake off the fuzzy feeling that covers your body, but the cold air that hits you through the new hole in your leggings won’t let you. “Okay back into forward fold.” Your breath shaky from the intensity of lust. “You want to bend your knees and step both your feet back one at a time into a plank.” Checking on her quickly you see she seems to be following. For now. Your heart pounds at the thought of what her next move on you could be.

“Now, lower into all fours making sure your hands are in line with your shoulders and your knees are in line with your hips.” The hole only expands with your bend with the air now hitting your heat even more dramatically. The position you were both in now was so compromising. You feel the flush rush to your cheeks in anticipation. Taking another deep breath, you continue.

“With your eyes closed, you want to lower your ribs into cow and inhale. And then exhale, raising your ribs and arching your back for cat.” The stretch feels good, but now it feels like your stretch is to prepare to only be stretched and worked out further. “Just do this a few times. You can do it in a circular motion with your hips if you like too.”

It’s too silent now even with both of you huffing and breathing. As you arch and dip your back your eyes glaze open a touch again to see if she’s there. She’s not even in your peripheral vision. But turning your head would only ruin the fun.

Finally you feel her hands on you again, this time with a more intense grip on your ass that spreads you open. Your movement slows from the distraction. “Keep going.” She opens the hole in your leggings wider with both hands, but doesn’t touch. “I’m just trying to get a better visual.”

You continue to arch back and forth as she pulls on the torn fabric. Your breath shudders again as she rips it further off of your body, making your arms fall to your elbows. It was the hottest thing she’s ever done to you. Lifting your legs one at a time she peels the rest of it off, throwing the mess of fabric to the side.

As you're ready for her to fully take you, she doesn’t. She lets you sit again in your vulnerable state. Every inch of your skin is exposed to the air just for her. Your ass elevated in and your back in a deep slide. You sit there patiently as you feel her eyes travel all over your body.

A hot breath suddenly hits your wetness, followed by her voice closing in on you, “I’m surprised you haven’t begged for me yet. You’re more soaked than me when I got home.” You feel a hand on your back, soothing your arch.

Her hand then falls back to your hip crease, holding you steady as her tongue flicks your entrance. You twitch under her grip as it gets tighter with each movement. Again she denies you the pleasure, moving back but keeping her mouth close. Your core aches as her hot breath agonizes you. Her touch makes you more needy.

You muster up the breath to speak, “Why don’t you just fuck me already. It’s clear how hard it is for you not to.” With your hips, you trace a circle to taunt her. Dangling the pleasure you’ve both been after right in front of her face.

She hums, “Maybe I want you to ask, angel.” Fuck. She really was teaching the lesson at this point. But you want to taunt her again, denying her pleasure just as much. “Hmm, I don’t know…” You scoot forward and sit up hiding her center of attention that lay between your legs, out of sight. You turn back to look at her. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

She raises a brow and scoots closer to you, moving your hair to the side to kiss your neck and whisper, “This is dinner.” She abruptly bends you down again in the position you were before, taking hold of your thighs and diving in. Her tongue brushes and swirls around on your slick sensitive surface. With your head turned, your jaw hangs open again now letting louder moans escape.

“Ask.” She demands lifting her head for a moment to use her fingers to circle your entrance like how you circled it in her face. “Fingers…” You heave, “Please…”.

“That's better.” She sinks her fingers into you and doesn’t even build up to her current pace. The motion makes you jolt and ride against her fingers, making the pleasure more immense. She knocks your legs further with her free hand, expanding the access she has to you and moving back to gripping your hip crease. Then feeling her fingers move out of you she gives you one last lick to see how sensitive she made you.

“Val.” you say through weighted breaths, “Please.” She doesn’t answer your whine, leaving you wet and sensitive again. It was aggravating.

But just as you start to think about getting up, the racing pleasure reaches you again with a finger attending to your clit while her tongue weaves inside you. She consumes you, touching every possible spot of sensitivity for you. You squirm under her grip again, as she pokes her tongue in and out.

She does this until you feel like you could droll right on the floor, gripping on what you could of the yoga mat. In a split second she backs away and flips you on your back with ease, switching her tongue with her fingers. With your back on the floor she still manages to make your back curl while the tingle she provides travels up your spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae. She has a better grip on you this way, hooking her arm around to hold you steady while she flicks your clit with her tongue. Her other hand sliding fingers in and out of you.

You become taut around her fingers, squeezing as you get closer to melting in her grasp. The tension that’s been laying within your pelvis pulls like it's a muscle. She hits your back wall harder with more intensity as she notices how close you’ve gotten. Looking up from sucking on you.

“Shit…Val.” You squeak with weak vowels as you continue to writhe in pleasure. Again, she picks up the pace making it harder for you to not finish.

Your entrance pulses with a deep tingle, as if it's pulling her in. Gasping in breath you lift your head up to watch her continue to lick as you release it all on her fingers. She lifts her head but continues to push her fingers in and out, and watches as you become an overstimulated mess.

She lets you ride the sensation for a moment before slowing down, letting you cool and squirm on her fingers before pulling them out. You rest your head back down, sinking all of your muscles into the floor and catching your regular stamina back. A shadow forms over your closed eyes and when you open you find her looming over your spent body with a grin. Watching as your flustered face huffs slow heavy breaths. She doesn’t look even close to done with you.

“We should do Yoga more often”

You chuckle at her, “I think we do plenty of Yoga.”

“Yea, but…we should do it in the fall.” She leans down and places a kiss on your cheek, “And the winter.” Another kiss is placed on your other cheek. “If you catch my drift.”

You do. You’ve been waiting for her to suggest this all summer at this point. “Maybe I want you to ask…” You tease her wanting to hear it directly from her lips. Your words make her smile more. A sign that you caught each other's drifts. She centers herself in front of your face, backing up to all fours on top of you. Just like you taught her.

[afewproblems]

Angsty dialogue prompts 👀

Number 13 - "Why would you say that?"

-@strangersteddierthings

Ahhhhhh thank you for the request Jess! @strangersteddierthings I hope you enjoy, I took this into a bit of a different direction than even I expected!

***

It takes Robin's foot connecting with his ankle to make Steve realize he was starring.

At Eddie, yet again.

Something that he had been doing a lot over the last few months since everything with Vecna and the Upside Down. Since Steve and Robin had managed to drag Eddie back from the brink, fighting off inky tendrils of death as Dustin led the way while Nancy brought up the rear, shot gun in hand.

Between the four of them, Eddie had actually made it. Torn up and missing about two liters of blood, but alive.

Of course, navigating the aftermath of the earthquakes and the loss of half the town had actually made it easier to avoid the murder charges that had been lobbed at Eddie.

Especially with the way Lucas, Erica, and Max had sworn up and down that Jason had been the one responsible for all of the murders, that they had narrowly escaped becoming his final victims.

And who could argue with the evidence, certainly not Jason after the surge of white hot energy that split the earth had finished with him.

So with Eddie's newfound freedom and the inability to argue with Dustin's insistence that he had been officially adopted into the party, his presence in their lives had become something that Steve looked forward to.

It was nice having someone else his age in the group. Robin was his other half of course, his soul mate, but it was nice having another guy to hang out with, and of course it wasn't because of anything else, Robin.

He let it slip one time that Eddie had nice eyes and was easy to talk to and, do you think he's seeing anyone Bobby, and suddenly Steve is accused of having a crush. Of all things!

Steve feels two fingers suddenly pinch at the outside of his thigh and has to suppress a loud yelp as he bats Robin's hands away from his leg with a glare.

She rolls her eyes and gives him a knowing look before turning back to the conversation.

"Take Stevie over here," Eddie says around the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before passing it over to Argyle and Steve can't help but watch, transfixed, as the smoke billows out from his nose like a dragon.

"I can guarantee you that he's seen the ocean before while the rest of us land-locked lubbers will probably never get the pleasure," Eddie continues with a wink and kicks his leg up onto the coffee table in Steve's basement.

Argyle blows out a long puff of smoke, he's leaned back against the couch with his head tipped up towards the ceiling, "thats wild man," he says with a laugh in his voice, he doesn't react when Jonathan snorts and takes the joint from his hand.

"Seriously?" Jon asks after a minute, "dude, we lived in California, we literally went to the beach all the time?"

Robin and Nancy both laugh at the noise of recognition that Argyle makes while Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Okay but for everyone else who didn't have the benefit of local geography," Eddie says, gesturing at the girls and himself, "we will be cursed to never feel the sand between our toes and all that shit".

Robin quirks an eyebrow and takes a swig of beer from the can in her hands, the sleeve of her denim jacket brushes against Steve's arm as she moves to set the can back on the coffee table.

They're the only two seated on the floor, Steve having given up the couch so everyone else could be comfortable and Robin couldn't, in good conscience, let her best friend sit by himself.

God he loves her, Steve thinks as he shoots her a soft smile.

He's never had someone that loves him so openly, so unapologetically as Robin does.

Not even when his parents were home for more than a few days a year did they show him the same kind of care that she had in their short time of knowing one another.

Sure, they teased each other, Robin had even made a new scoreboard for his failed attempts at flirting at Family Video --this one with a new section after Steve quietly admitted to her that they had even more in common than they had realized earlier.

But Robin was there, in a way that he hadn't really had from anyone else in years.

"I don't know how you deal with it Buckley," Eddie huffs. He's grinning widely at Robin and Steve, reaching to take the joint back from Jonathan.

"What," she says dryly, "Steve? He grows on you".

"He does," Nancy insists loudly from Jonathan's other side, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes a little glassy. Jonathan lifts his arm to tuck her against his side with a fond grin, he meets Steve's gaze after a minute and mouths, 'still a lightweight,' which makes Steve snort.

"This!" Eddie barks out, lifting a ringed hand to gesture around the basement sitting room, "look there's a fucking Linn LP12 sitting right beside you and a God Damn pool outside".

Steve frowns, looking from Robin back to Eddie. He feels an uncomfortable thrum roll over his skin as Eddie stands up to make his way to the sound system he pointed out.

"Jesus, I think this whole collection cost more than my trailer," he picks up Steve's mothers Joni Mitchell album, turning it in his hands, "must have been nice to have mommy and daddy's money huh? This is like 'fuck you' rich".

Steve feels a faint nervous laugh tumble out of his mouth, even as his stomach rolls at the words.

"Oh my god," Robin laughs, knocking her shoulder into Steve's own, "yes! If I had a nickle for the number of times he asked me why I don't have my own phone line yet whenever my mom answers first, I'd be as rich as Steve!"

Eddie puts the Blue album back and pulls out a copy of The Beatles and now Steve is sweating.

Because Eddie isn't wrong, this is his parents music collection and yes it did cost them a lot of money over the years. But, more importantly, it was off limits to Steve.

The last time his dad had caught him flipping through the vinyls, Steve had been sent to his room with large purple hand prints on the offending arm and two broken fingers.

"Okay, that's my dad's, put it down," he says, hiding the tremor in his voice as he gets to his feet.

Eddie rolls his eyes again but does set the record down on top of the collection. He raises his hands in surrender and raises a mocking eyebrow as he steps back towards the couch, dropping down on the end as Argyle scoots closer to Jonathan to make more space.

Argyle and Jonathan speak quietly to one another seemingly uncaring about the strange tension that begins to bleed into the basement. It's Nancy who is watching Steve, Eddie, and Robin, her mouth set in an unhappy frown.

Nancy had only met Steve's parents once during a very uncomfortable dinner, years back when they had dated. While she may not know the true extent of Steve's relationship with Richard and Cynthia Harrington, she knows it wasn't all sunshine and roses.

"Man," Eddie snorts, shooting Robin a wicked grin, "I knew your parents had spoiled you pretty rotten but I didn't think they needed to buy you a new sense of humor".

"Yeah Steve," Robin pats the carpet beside her, "it's just a joke, lighten up and come sit down".

And that, well, that hurt a bit more than Steve anticipated.

"Why would you say that?" He whispers, the words falling out of his mouth like vomit before he can stop it.

Eddie scoffs from the couch, but Steve isn't looking at Eddie. He's looking at Robin.

Robin who meets Steve's gaze with a slight frown between her eyes, she looks back at Nancy with a laugh in her smile that disappears at the frosty glare Nancy fixes her with.

She slowly turns to look back at Steve, confusion and concern in her blue eyes.

"Oh come on Steve," Eddie takes a drag of the joint, which has dwindled into something resembling a roach before stubbing it out in the brown ashtray on the table, "we're kidding, come on Byers, you get it right?"

Nancy leans up to whisper something in Jonathan's ear and whatever it is, it's enough to make him stiffen slightly and give Steve a long look before he shakes his head, "I think we're going to head home actually".

Steve nods and breathes out, ignoring the way his chest tightens as he refuses to meet Robin's worried gaze.

Eddie slowly stands to follow Nancy and Jonathan, he says something quietly to Argyle that is met with a simple serene shrug

Eddie hangs back as the other three make their way up the basement stairs. He chews his lip and clenches his fist as he looks between Steve and Robin with a frown.

Eddie stands awkwardly beside Robin, spinning one of the rings on his left hand as he looks between Steve and the stairs that the others had used to beat their hasty retreat.

Robin gets to her feet slowly, her gaze never wavering, "Steve?"

Steve winces at the way she says his name.

He knows it was just a joke, he knows he's overreacting, that neither of them could have known about his relationship with his parents.

He knows it's unfair of him to be so upset, but he can't help it.

Because Eddie mocking him, that he could deal with. He could get over it, let go of the fantasies of Eddie's crinkling eyes and warm smile that made Steve's heartbeat quicken.

But Robin?

The way she had laughed, dismissed his discomfort, it was as though he had been transported back to Tommy's basement just a few years back, listening to him and Carol tear him down.

It's just a joke Steve.

He reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, flinching at the sharp intake of air from Robin who immediately makes her way closer.

"Just," he manages to say with an even tone, shaking his head. He closes his eyes and clears his throat, taking a step back from the pair.

"I'm going to bed, got a shift tomorrow, so," Steve says quietly with a shrug. He opens his eyes but drops his gaze to the carpet, knowing if he made eye contact with Robin, he would inevitably ask her to stay.

Robin opens her mouth to argue, a fierce glare in her eyes and a bright flush on her face, he hasn't seen her this upset since the Creel House.

"Steve--"

Robin jumps as Eddie reaches for her arm, pulling her back, hard enough that she stumbles slightly into Eddie.

Steve curls his arms around himself, shying away from Eddie's dark evaluating eyes. He doesn't need to see the judgment there, it's embarrassing enough feeling like he's ruined the evening because of his hangups. He doesn't need the reminder of how ridiculous it is to be angry with them over something so silly.

"Come on Buckley, I'll drive you home," Eddie mumbles as he gently tugs at her arm once again.

Steve hears a harsh sigh, but she doesn't say anything this time. He can feel her staring, as though trying to read his mind like she normally could. But Steve keeps his eyes trained on the floor, until he hears two pairs of feet finally make their way up the stairs, until the front door closes, until Eddie's van roars to life on the Harrington driveway.

Steve eventually makes his way upstairs in a daze, half heartedly getting ready for bed.

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, doing everything he can to ignore the words that echo in his head over and over. He finishes in the bathroom and takes off his jeans, swapping his sweater for an old ratty t-shirt he often used for bed.

It was just a joke.

Steve rolls over until he's facing the window, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he closes his eyes.

Maybe it would be funnier in the morning.