#and it's horrible because this thought process only hurts me

[peapod20001]

Currently metaphorically banging my head and fists on the wall cus the only person that I can fully articulate my thoughts and feelings with is my own brain sooo :,)

[velaryqns]

Could you do a House fanfic where after failing at treating a patient, House takes his stress and anger out on the reader? She then considers quitting being a doctor. House is confronted by Dr. Cuddy and his team, causing him to go comfort and apologize to the girl.

Uncontrolled Anger

Gregory House x Female Reader (I took it romantically for fun)

Universe: House MD

Summary: Maybe you should have known better than to question House about his feelings.

Warnings: Patient death, mentions of addictions, angst

You sat silently, your eyes on the dead body in front of you. You had watched as the team fought to help the man, all for it to fail after multiple misdiagnoses and wrong solutions. You, being a doctor, knew what they were going through. You’d gone through it a few times with your patients.

Sighing, you rest a hand on Taub’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. He returned it, then watched you go as you made your way out of the room and eventually wandered to House’s office. When you reached the glass door with his name on it, you stood silently for a moment with your arms crossed. He had one hand in a fist by the side of his head and the other filling out paperwork.

You brought your hand down to the handle, allowing yourself into his office. You took a few paces, then turned your attention to the big yellow chair by his bookshelf. You lowered yourself into the chair, watching him silently for a moment.

“How are you?” You asked gently, not wanting to annoy him while he was in the middle of scribbling on the sheet.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” he muttered, still keeping his gaze away from you.

“You could at least say that you’re okay,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as you shook it. You knew he handled emotions horribly, in ways that often required you to intervene, “Greg—“

He slammed the pen down and looked at you. And you could see why he had been avoiding your gaze to begin with, “You’re not a therapist. In fact, you’re presently the reason I could end up needing one. I just want some peace and quiet because excuse me for not being Doctor Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What —“ You cut yourself off, truly hurt by his words. His blue eyes held no remorse for what he said, and you quickly stood and left the room. You bumped into Chase, but ignored him entirely as you made your way down the hall with the intention of going to the elevator.

As you stood silently in the elevator, waiting to go down to the main floor to leave for the evening, you processed why you continued to try and support the man that. You stared at the metal doors, jaw clenched as you finalized your decision.

You didn’t want to work in the same building as someone like Greg House. Cuddy wouldn’t fire him, he’s too good.

Once you reached the main floor, you went to the clinic, seeing if there was any help you could offer and breathing a sigh of relief when you were able to step in. You dove into working throughout the clinic, waiting patiently to be able to talk to Cuddy about what was going on.

You filed patients in and out of the room you were using, only stopping for nurses to clean and sterilize everything between each patient. However, your consistent flow was ruined by Foreman's sudden intrusion into the room. You stared at him.

"Do you need something? Because I would like to treat my patients," you informed him.

"Just checking on you," he shrugged, tucking his hands in his pants pocket and leaning against the door, further preventing you from leaving the room, let alone treating your patients.

"I am fine," you muttered, tossing a file on the counter and crossing your arms. You leaned against the counter, "I am tired of him behaving like a child; I never thought I'd consider leaving my position because Cuddy refuses to fire House."

"I can talk to her for you,"

"Not worth it," you shook your head, "Now can you please go?"

Foreman was reluctant for a moment, but then nodded his head and walked out of the room. Your next patient came in, and you returned to your job.

Little did you know, Foreman was taking matters into his own hands despite your protests. The team liked you, there was no denying it, so of course he turned to Cuddy because of what you'd said. It was hard to believe, especially when you typically had a strong relationship with House, even when he was being childish.

House was in his office when Cuddy went search for him, her hands on her hips. He stared blankly upon her arrival, a frown on his face as he waited for what she had to say.

"You're going to make her quit,"

"Her?" House asked, shaking his head and shrugging as he waited for an elaboration. He looked toward the office door to see the team staring at him with disapproving looks, which caused him to sigh and roll his eyes, "Y/n's choices are not my fault."

“You’re pathetic,” Cuddy muttered. House shrugged. To him, there was no point in denying it. Cuddy clenched her jaw, “I thought you liked her!”

“She’s ear grating, like you,” Lisa frowned and House shrugged once more.

“I can’t lose another good doctor because of your antics, House,”

She spun on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving House to his own thoughts.

It was early in the evening, you’d showered and done some dishes, when there was a knock on your door. You were less than enthusiastic to open it, especially after peering through the hole to see House on the other side. He leaned on his cane lazily, a bag of what was clearly takeout food in his other hand as he looked down at you.

“What do you want?”

“I come bearing food,” he held the back up to emphasize his point.

You rolled your eyes and moved to slam the door in his face, but it made contact with his cane instead. House let himself in, limping toward your couch and plopping on it. The smell of the Chinese takeout hit your nose, making your mouth water as you pushed the door shut the rest of the way and turned to face the man on your couch.

“What do you want?” You repeated, less than enthused and lacking the emotion you usually had when speaking to House.

“Not a lot of hospitals would be willing to take you,” he spoke matter of factly. He dug into the brown paper bag, pulling out bulls of food and beginning to eat out of his own, “Foreman struggled to get a new job when he had to leave—“

“Foreman was accused of malpractice, and caught,” you reminded House.

“Malpractice is a common occurrence in this hospital, you think any other Dean would hire someone who’s worked with me? You’re poorly mistaken, Dollface,”

“You’re a piece of shit,” you spat, shaking your head and storming into the kitchen, “You know that?”

“I just call em like I see em,”

“If you don’t have anything genuine to say, then leave,”

There was silence, and then you heard your couch creak as he got up. Good, he got the point. That was what you thought until you heard his cane moving across the linoleum floor of your kitchen. You turned to see Greg House standing over you, and you gulped.

“What do you expect me to do here?” He questioned.

“Oh I don’t know, apologize?” You countered, side stepping him to grab a glass from a cupboard, “I was helping you. Making sure you were okay and not going to do something stupid after losing a patient — but apparently that wasn’t good enough, hm?”

“Y/n—“

“No, all I wanted to do was help you,” you faced him, “everybody in that damned hospital does what they can to help you, and this is how you repay us? That’s real shitty, House.”

House. Unlike everyone else, you rarely used his last name when talking to him. When speaking of him, sure, when in professional settings, almost always. But never in the privacy of you two or amongst friends. That’s when he realized the reality of what he’d caused.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he spoke, taking a step toward you. He leaned his cane on the counter and placed his hands on your waist. You didn’t move your arms from your sides, merely looking into his blue eyes to see if he was being genuine.

It seemed too good to be true.

“Accept the apology before I’m forced to take it back,”

And there it was.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” you muttered, moving your hands to rest on his biceps. House squeezed your waist, knowing that he got what he wanted. You rose to your tip-toes, your lips just barely touching his before you pulled away, “Now come on: that take-out is calling my name.”

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 3

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of sex, non-sexual nudity

series masterlist │my masterlist

logan sleeps in your bed now. night after night you found him on the hard floor, until you couldn’t deal with the thought of him being so uncomfortable just because he wanted to be near you. so you forced him into your bed, though you’re not sure if forced is the right word to use given how willingly he slipped in next to you - as if he’d done it a million times before, as if it was normal.

he’s a walking heater - you swear there’s a fire burning under his skin, working through his veins to spread throughout his body. you naturally run cold, you always have, so cuddling up to his warmth is a luxury. even in the beginning, when you didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms for fear of what it would mean for your relationship, you would wake bundled up in his arms, safe and protected and wanted in a way that made you never want to leave the bed.

it’s nice, really nice.

and it simultaneously sucks, because you’ve started having dreams of logan, of kissing him, calling him your husband, watching him rock a baby. and you’ve had other dreams too, the ones you’re sure logan can smell on you, with his advanced senses. he’s always awake watching you when you wake up from those dreams, his body still curled against yours, hard dick pressed against you. but he never does anything.

it’s horribly endearing. he’s obviously affected but won’t leave you, knows how much comfort you’ve found in his arms. so he grits his teeth and bears it. despite being half-animal, he’s more of a gentleman than most of the men you’ve met.

and you love knowing that you affect him, knowing that your feelings for him are not completely one-sided, even if you can only be sure of the physical component. when you leave the room to start on your morning routine, he stays behind.

you can’t be certain, but you imagine him taking his dick in his hand, stroking himself to completion, hard and desperate and quick, muffling the sound of his groans with a hand pressed to his mouth.

you’re not used to being woken up like this, however. logan hovers over you, face twisted into a snarl so full of hatred it brings tears to your eyes. his claws are out and have ripped holes in the sheets and the mattress, locking you in a makeshift cage.

his eyes are glazed over, like he’s not quite present in the moment. he’s somewhere else right now, lost somewhere in his mind where you can’t reach him.

this isn’t a slow awakening where you can take time to blink the sleep from your eyes, letting them flutter shut for two more minutes to enjoy the bliss of being not-quite awake. the adrenaline hits you hard and fast, your heartbeat pounding loud in your ears.

you’re trembling, can feel it with every breath you take, shaky exhales and sharp inhales. you’re careful not to make any sudden moves, worried about what logan may do to you.

you know him, know he wouldn’t hurt you. but he doesn’t see you right now, you don’t know who or what he’s seeing in your place. but he’s never looked at you with these eyes, with this level of anger - in fact, you can’t remember a time when he’s truly been angry at you. scared, cautious, tense, maybe. but not fury like this.

“logan,” you whisper.

the sound has barely left your throat when he pulls one clawed hand away from the mattress, tearing more of it in the process, before punching his claws towards your chest. you cry out, instinctually, and that snaps him out of it.

you feel the sharp sting of his metal claws dragging over your skin as he pulls away. it’s only a scratch, and not a terribly deep one at that. you’re used to small injuries, pricking yourself in the garden or accidentally cutting your thumb while cooking or any other stupid way to draw blood to the surface of your skin.

but it’s not the pain that matters, it’s the thought that if it took him a second longer to break out of his nightmare he could have pierced your heart, killed you. 

“logan,” you ask, shaky, “are you okay?”

he’s staring at you, eyes wide and frightened, but the hatred that was there is gone. his claws retract back into his skin. he nods, slow, never breaking eye contact with you.

and then you burst into tears.

you can’t stop, your cries hysterical. logan sits on the bed, moving away from you with every cry that rakes your body, but you grab at his arms desperately, needing him. somehow, despite logan being the reason for your fear, he’s the only thing you want, your mind calling out his name like a prayer.

he hesitates to touch you at first, but you beg him with a broken “please”, and then he’s all over you, pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck. he kisses you softly on the skin there, a habit he’s taken up that you don’t mind. you probably should mind, but you’re unable to care about that when it feels so right.

you fall asleep crying in his arms, the exhaustion pulling you under. you wake up again with the sun, logan looking haggard and pale, still holding you. it seems he didn’t fall back asleep when you had.

your throat feels raw from crying, and you can feel the tear tracks where they dried on your skin.

“what was the nightmare about?” you try to ask him.

he shakes his head, every line around his face pulled taunt, “no.”

you’d expected such an answer, something short and succinct where he refuses to lay his problems on you. still, you’d hoped he might share some information, even a sliver of his story that could help you help him.

you’re still worried about logan, but there’s not much you can do if he won’t speak to you, so you leave the bed to wash the dried tears from your face. you go on with your routine as usual, keeping a closer eye on logan, waiting for possible signs to help you uncover the mystery of whatever the fuck is happening with him.

there are none, of course - he’s very difficult to read when he wants to be.

he doesn’t touch you as much, a step further behind you than usual. but otherwise his behaviour doesn’t change too greatly. he’s still sweet and grumpy and lovely.

you teach him how to cook your favourite breakfast foods, and to your surprise, it comes naturally to him. he works by your side like he’s always been there, listening to your instructions perfectly every time. the cuts on your chest still burn slightly, but simply feeling his presence by your side makes everything better.

you’re reading a book on the couch when logan returns from hunting. he never brings anything from his hunt into the house, for which you’re grateful, but he does drag in a lot of dirt. 

you have a routine by now, or at least the bones of one. he likes it when you help him clean up after a hunt or a run in the forest, and so do you. it’s the kind of moment you imagine you’d find in a book, with a couple so deeply in love that they can hardly stand to be apart for a second.

you’re still not completely comfortable with the idea of stripping naked in front of him, but logan has no such qualms. in the bathroom, he pushes his pants and boxers down in one motion.

you blush as he steps into the shower, so unashamed of his body. there’s a wild edge to him that you notice more in moments like these, where you realise the impact of not having those human memories, the socialisation that teaches you to dislike yourself, teaches you that confidence is a negative thing, makes you vain and egotistical.

the water soaks him in an instant, flattening his cute hair tufts against his scalp and you giggle at the way he looks like a wet kitten, though less disgruntled.

he tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you. his gaze is dark and heady, intense as you pull off your shirt, leaving you in only a bra. your face warms as you take off your skirt next, watching logan’s face the entire time, the way his eyes linger on your panties for a long, long moment.

it’s not the first time you’ve undressed in front of him, but every time the effect is the same. warmth pools in your stomach, a mix of arousal and nerves. he’s intoxicating, and that’s terrifying to you.

you don’t take off your bra and panties. they feel like armour, protecting you from being fully defenceless in front of him. it’s not like he couldn’t see the full shape of you, every curve of your body, the parts that you love about yourself, that make you smile at the mirror, and those you hate. 

still, it makes you feel like the one in control - he’s completely naked and you’re not - though you know that he’s larger and stronger than you, that really he’s letting you be in control of the situation, not moving too much as you wash the blood and grime from his body. 

he cares so much about your comfort. sometimes it makes you want to cry. 

“you, now,” he grunts.

“what?”

you’re taken aback at the break in the quiet. it always shocks you a little when he speaks, his voice rough from disuse. 

“i will clean you, now,” he gestures at you and you laugh nervously, taking a step back, as far as you can until you hit the tiled wall. it’s not a very large shower, there’s not really anywhere to go.

“logan,” you whisper, heart in your throat, “no. not right now, okay? finish up your shower, i think- yeah i’m going to go now.”

you practically run out of the steam-filled bathroom, feeling like you’re going to collapse at any second. the thought of him stripping you out of your remaining clothes, unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, his hands running over your body, even for something as innocent as washing you, something you’ve done with him a dozen or so times.

you’re having enough sex fantasies about him as it is, you don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. and the thing is, you want it. you want him. you want those fantasies to come to life. but you can’t help but fear that logan’s only clinging to you because you’re the one who found him when he was at his most vulnerable.

when he goes out into the world, whether that’s sometime soon or if it takes years, will he start to resent you? will he find someone better? will the soft intimacy that’s been growing between you collapse like a house of cards?

you’re in your bedroom, laying on top of the sheets, staring up at the ceiling when logan enters.

“you’re upset?” he asks, and at the tone of his voice, the pain that you hear reflected in each syllable, your head turns his way. he looks devastated, like the idea that you might be upset at him is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. you’re very certain that’s incorrect.

he looks so innocent like this, not a wild animal with claws that rip through flesh like butter, but a man, anxious and unsure and pleading. you can’t help the smile that rises to your lips. you shake your head as much as you can against the mattress and reach your arms out towards him, a wordless beckoning.

“never,” you say.

within moments he’s in your arms, hugging you tight, his face pressed into your chest. it’s nice, the solid weight of him, like a very heavy weighted blanket. minutes pass, and then logan shifts his body just enough to look up at you.

he makes eye contact with you, and in his eyes you see a raging storm. his face is blank as it often is, a mask that you can’t read, but you can feel his muscles tense as if preparing for a fight, can catch a glimpse of several different emotions in the hazel staring back at you.

he leans up, until his face is barely a centimetre away from yours, and your breath catches. you’re scared to hope, terrified, even if all signs point in one direction, so you don’t move closer but you don’t move away, eyes fluttering shut as if it’ll all become easier, as if the butterflies in your stomach will recede, if you’re not looking directly at him.

he closes the distance between you, mouth meeting yours in a chaste, soft kiss. it’s nothing like you expected from logan, feral and intense in everything he does. but he’s waiting for a response from you, scared in the way you’ve only ever seen him once, when you’d first found him in the barn.

he pulls away and you grab onto him desperately, forcing him to crash back into you. you share open-mouthed kisses, hot and urgent yet so loving. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed about, perfect in the way little else can be, and you feel tears prickling in your eyes, a sob catching in your throat.

you’re absolutely fucked, your heart stolen by him, and you can only hope logan meets you where you are and doesn’t hurt you.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

[goldenwoods]

This post is about the gaiman situation.

Right off the bat, fuck him and his associates. It's rare for someone in a position of power to get what they deserve but I hope he joins that short list. And I wish the victims well. What a horrible situation to be abused by a man masquerading as a champion for inclusivity and human rights.

That said, I don't understand the vitriol put towards people who're trying to recontextualise their relationship to gaiman's media in light of the revelations. I'm talking about those posts and comments getting angry at people for grieving, accusing them of not prioritising the victims.

Which is such an unwarranted accusation. Obviously, if they're under a post or article about the victim's testimony and they go "my season 3 :(((" or "my poor characters don't deserve this :("in the comment section then yeah, they're pretty disgusting. But the same accusations shouldn't be levied at people trying to come to terms with the fact that their formative experience was written by a monster ON THEIR OWN BLOG.

This isn't putting fictional characters before victims, it's just that there can't be much said about such a black and white situation that isn't already said by a million other posts ("fuck gaiman, fuck his supporters, hope the victims get justice"), whereas how a reader themselves deal with the fall of someone they've put on a pedestal is a much more complicated and nuanced process that they have to think through. If anything, I think it's a sign of a healthy community who treat 'fuck gaiman' as common sense and not something that needs arguments about. I don't know if there are ways to help the victims yet beyond just showing support on social media (let me know if i've missed something), but I don't think going after any fan daring to talk about their own relationship to the text is helpful at all. And I can guarantee you those who're grappling with how they feel towards the text now –– those feeling betrayed and angry –– will be quick to rally to support the victims because they're only feeling conflicted because of how disgusted they are with the author.

(For context, I don't feel attached to Gaiman at all so this is not related to any personal stakes I have in this. I enjoyed GO the show, but never read or watched any of his works otherwise. I was planning to get a copy of GO the book but the allegations surfaced first so that didn't end up happening either. I am partial to David and Michael's acting but even then I'm just a casual fan and if they react in a disappointing way to the Gaiman situation, I feel like I could stop consuming their works without much emotional turmoil.)

EDIT: since this is getting a fair bit of attention, i want to summarise my midnight ramble a bit: the crux of the problem is that lots of people treat this blogspace as a mega-conversation, which is how the 'you're not focussing on the victims enough' accusation come up. Think if you're in a conversation about how person A had been hurt by B: OF COURSE your response should be 'gosh that's fucked up. hope A's doing okay', and if your response ON THE SPOT is 'ohhhhh shit i don't know how to feel about the fact that I used to really like B lemme monologue about my complicated emotions out loud' then yeah you're the problem. But if you respond compassionately but spend a sizeable amount of time afterwards in your own head ruminating over how you used to think B was a really good person? ...then you're just a normal human being with a moral compass. Tumblr is the latter and not the former. It's the collection of dumping grounds for people's thoughts, not an online forum that give you a measure of where people's priorities are.

[cultven]

Whumptober Day 6 - Not Realizing They're Injured

"It's not my blood."

RE2r Leon Kennedy X Reader

Content: Leon being a sweetie, Marvin mentions, Reader has been through a lot the past few days, teamwork!, and lots of hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Some mentions of blood/wounds (not graphic)

a/n: Wrote this for Whumptober day 6 a while ago but kind of just gave up on Whumptober because I am completely overrun by school </3 this one is still fun tho! (I am probably going to still post Whumptober content, just not at the right times lol)

You really wish you didn’t wear short sleeves today. Originally it was perfect weather to do so, with a cool breeze and warm air still surprisingly prevalent in the late days of September. What you didn’t account for was a zombie outbreak to begin the very same day. You were walking home from the story, retrieving a few necessities your roommate sent you out for, when you had your first encounter with a zombie. You’ll never forget the cold, white eyes that peered into your soul. Her pale skin was overtaken by lesions and blood, it was a gamble on whether the blood was hers or not. Thankfully you were able to dodge her attacks and settled into a sprint back towards your apartment. What was not so fortunate, however, was the explosion you were met with once you got back. Your apartment, your home for the past two years, all of your belongings, now nothing but ash and despair. 

How could this all happen so fast? One minute you were a normal citizen, and the next you were almost a victim of a horrible outbreak rampaging through your hometown. After brief consideration, you decided to head down to the police station only a few blocks from your apartment. You figured it would be better than leaving yourself in the open, plus they have officers and weapons there. If there were any safe places left in the city, it would be the Raccoon City Police Department. 

On arrival, you were met with many timid questions through a cracked door. You could tell they’d already been ambushed a few times by the way they were on edge to even speak to you, an outsider, after some convincing you were let fully into the building. There you sat with other survivors and police officers, trying to process that this was your new reality. Over time you lost more and more refugees. Officers who thought they were brave enough to survive got themselves killed, and citizens who began to get worried over their families all left until it was only you and Marvin left. That was until the rookie came in. 

Leon Kennedy, a tall man with brown hair and an adorable smile. The two of you instantly clicked. You were both similar in age and his personality meshed well with yours, resulting in deep conversations quite quickly. You learned he was supposed to have his first day around a week ago when this whole shitshow started but was told to stay away. As much as you grew a liking towards Leon, you could’ve scolded him for his idiocy. He should have stayed away, he should have spared himself from the horrors of Raccoon City. But you remind yourself that he couldn’t have known, and besides, in some selfish way you were glad he found you. 

With the task of getting out of the city at hand, you and Leon have grown closer and closer, which brings you to now, wandering the corridors together, flashlight in your hand and a gun in Leon’s. A groan emits from around the corner. 

“Did you hear that?” You whisper to Leon, keeping close since he is one of your only defenses against the zombies. Leon and a small knife Marvin gave you. 

“Yeah, stay behind me.” You nod slightly at his command, standing right behind his uniformed body. It should be illegal how cute he looked in the cop uniform. As the two of you rounded the corner, Leon cocked his gun and held both arms out to stabilize himself. Just as you had guessed, a zombie begins to come forward making its way into a sprint at the two of you. Before you could even think to react two bullets are lodged in its head as it falls limp to the ground. Leon puts an arm out in front of you, signaling for you not to move closer as he nudges the zombie with his foot. Dead. 

“Good aim.” You pat Leon’s arm as his gaze is still fixed on the body. He was still readjusting to the whole zombie thing. Even though he’s doing it out of necessity it feels wrong to kill the zombies. In his eyes, they’re still human, at least part way. Seeing he was lost in thought you nudge his arm a bit, “Let’s go. Marvin’s waiting.” He only nods as you begin to move again. Leon is grateful for you, he truly is. He doesn’t know if he would have the courage to do any of this without you. It seems there’s one good thing that came out of this tragedy at least. 

The pair of you continue walking, not having the luxury of spare time in this hell hole. To make things a little better, you try some small talk. ��So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out of here?” 

“Hm, definitely get some good food. Maybe some fast food. Is it bad to crave fast food in an apocalypse?” You giggled at his question. 

“Probably not. I just know the first thing I’m doing is taking a shower.” You’ve been stuck in the police station longer than Leon and it is very telling appearance-wise. Your clothes were not only filthy, but you also admittedly smelled. It was a wonder Leon wanted to be around you, much less wanted to stay so close to you. But you suppose it wasn’t the first thing on your mind. 

“Shower is a good one! Can I change my answer?” Leon looked you in the eyes, smiling. You had to resist tackling him on the spot. He was so cute, even with dirt and grime on his face. 

“Nope! Can’t steal my answer.” You playfully responded, still trotting by his side keeping an eye out. 

“Aw, dang. Well, Mcdonalds is still pretty good I guess.” Leon conceded. You were about to respond when you heard noises coming from the main atrium. You looked at each other in confusion, then in worry. Marvin was out there. 

“I think we should head back there.” You state, turning your head back in the direction you came from. Leon agreed and you both began to backtrack, maneuvering over dead bodies and pools of blood. Gross. Right as you were about to reach the gate you felt your boot slip on a puddle. As you were falling backward muscular arms caught you just in time, capturing your body in a tight hold. You open your eyes and are met with crystal blue. Leon. You smile seeing the relieved look on his face, his arms pulling you in closer before releasing his hold. 

“Please be more careful. I’m going to die of a heart attack before a zombie could get me.” Leon huffs, half joking half serious. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You apologize, feeling a bit bad. Leon only shakes his head a bit before smiling one of his sweet smiles again and leading you with his arm. 

“It’s ok, let’s just go check out Marvin, yeah?” With soft footsteps you make your way to the main hall where you expect to see zombies but nothing. Only sharing a quick, tentative glance, you continue forward. You were about to call out Marvin’s name when you heard a long, guttural groan. Turning your heads you find yourselves a devastating sight, Marvin with his head completely bent to the side with white eyes. The eyes were always the creepiest part in your opinion, it was the first glimpse of the zombie apocalypse you got. With painful noises leaving his mouth Marvin begins to limp forward, acting like all of the zombies you had encountered before. Earlier that week he told you to promise him if he ever became one of them, to shoot him. At the time you thought the promise was unnecessary. 

Backing away, you could see Leon was sweating. He looked at the gun in his hands before quickly looking at Marvin once again. It was hard to gauge his thoughts, he looked conflicted in himself. “Leon…?” You whisper, still slowly backing away as Leon stays in place. 

“What do we do?” His voice was quiet and strained. Marvin showed him kindness and was one of the only reasons he was still alive at this very moment. He should have died a few hours ago but Marvin saved him, and Leon couldn’t return the favor. His breathing picks up and his head begins to shake. “What do we do?” Leon repeats, slightly louder this time. His head was now facing you, desperately needing you to guide him. 

“I don’t know.” You stutter out, feeling hopeless. Like Leon, you wouldn’t be here now without Marvin’s generosity. He not only physically helped you by providing food and water, but once everyone else was out of the station the two of you gave each other emotional support as well. You knew what Marvin wanted, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suggest it. 

“Should I…?” Leon’s voice trailed off, but you knew what he was referring to. He was staring straight down at Matilda, his hands violently shaking. Deep down you both knew it was the only way. Either that or leave him alone in this miserable state. If there was any Marvin left in that brain of his you knew he would want to be taken out. The atmosphere became suffocating. You inched towards Leon, trying to gain a sense of false security. 

“He- Marvin told me, before you were here, that if he turned into one of those things he wanted someone to shoot him. He didn’t want to survive as one of those monsters.” You solemnly repeat Marvin’s words back to Leon, who was only falling further into distress at the words. Now he knew what he needed to do, but bringing himself to do it was a completely separate issue. 

“I can’t.” No, he wasn’t trained for this. The academy didn’t build him strong enough to kill his allies like this. 

“I can.” You put your hands on Leon’s, staring into his soft eyes. For the past week, you’ve been surrounded by chaos and despair. If anyone were mentally ready enough for this, it would be you. Leon has protected you time and time again, it was your turn to protect him. 

“Are you sure?” Leon looked suspicious but allowed you to gently take Matilda out of his shaking hands. You squeezed one of his hands in your own, a gesture he mimicked back to you, before cocking the gun towards Marvin. It was your turn to be anxious now. Before this week you’ve never shot a gun, even then you’ve only used one twice out of necessity. You take a deep breath in. 

A gunshot rings through the room, but nobody falls to the ground. Instead, you feel a decaying hand grab yours and push you down, effectively knocking Matilda out of your hands in your stunned state. Of fucking course you missed the shot, why did you think you could get it in the first place? You weren’t trained for weapons, let alone a police handgun.

You’re now on the ground, fighting Marvin off of you as you frantically attempt to grab the knife attached to your hip. Leon watches in horror at the scene, stumbling to retrieve Matilda from the other side of the room. As he grabs the gun you successfully grab your knife and jab it into Marvin’s side. Much to your displeasure it doesn’t elicit any reaction other than a small groan. Losing your grip on the knife due to the many liquids such as blood and sweat surrounding you, Marvin gets his chance to take the knife out of himself and begin swinging at you. Luckily, Leon returns from grabbing his gun just in time to kick Marvin off, effectively taking the knife with him. 

Without hesitation this time, a gun goes off, and then silence. You look over to see Leon coldly standing over Marvin’s lifeless body. He liked Marvin, he truly did. Leon held much respect for his elders, but he knew this wasn’t the same man he saw at the beginning of the night. Even if it was, however, Leon still didn’t regret his actions. You were his haven in this hell, and if protecting you meant he had to make some hard decisions then so be it. As much as he wanted to believe the opposite, Marvin was never going to make it out in that state. But you had a chance. 

Looking over at you his heart was beating out of his chest. Even disheveled from a fight you looked beautiful. Not to mention the fact you could have almost died right in front of him. Leon yelled your name, running back over to you. He enveloped you in a hug, pulling away after feeling a warm liquid coat his clothes. He looked down in horror to realize the liquid was blood. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks, confused since you seem fine. 

“What?” You look down at his hands that were smeared with blood. “That’s not my blood.” You felt fine, maybe a little buzzed after the fight, and your heart was racing out of adrenaline, but nothing hurt. 

“Your arm…” Leon whispers, turning you slightly to the side to take in a giant gash on your upper bicep. It was likely from when Marvin was slashing the knife at you. You were so focused on getting him off of you that you didn’t feel the pain. 

“Oh shit.” That was all you said before Leon guided you over to the bench and firmly sat you down. He seemed angry. Not aggressive, just silent and mad. He grabbed a first aid kit and took out a rubbing alcohol pad. 

“I’m sorry, this might hurt.” He seemed genuinely hurt when he felt you wince against the pad, your teeth gritting together. “I’m sorry.” He whispered the phrase again, somewhat to himself. Luckily the gash wasn’t deep enough for stitches, only surface level. If you had sleeves on it likely would’ve been the depth of a paper cut. Damn you short sleeves. Leon began to wrap gauze around your arm as the room was buried in silence. Once you were all wrapped up and Leon put the first aid kit away you both sat in silence, about a foot apart and awkward. You weren’t sure why Leon was being like this, he saved your life. Did he think you were weak and didn’t want to associate with weak people? No, that’s not Leon. 

Little did you know, in his mind, Leon was killing himself over the fact he allowed you to get injured due to his empathy for a fucking zombie. His skewed moral compass could have been your first-class ticket to death. You deserve someone better than that, someone more rational. How is he supposed to get the two of you out of here when he can’t pull a trigger? 

Sick of the silence, you spoke up. “Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up?” You look over, he is clearly still lost in thought. When he doesn’t answer you nudge his arm slightly, scooting closer so that your hips are now touching while sitting. 

“It’s just…” Leon trails off, allowing himself to reword his thoughts before spewing them out. “I hesitated to kill a fucking zombie and it almost got you killed.” 

“Leon, I understand your hesitation. He was our friend.” You inched your hand close to his but didn’t commit to touching it. You were uncertain whether or not he wanted to be touched in this state. He answered your question however by grabbing your hand and squeezing it on his own, a grounding technique. 

“Exactly, was. I knew it wasn’t him. I knew he was dangerous, and I still allowed him to get close enough to hurt you. I’m the cop here for God’s sake!” His frustration was taking over, you could tell all he wanted to be was a protector. 

“You still saved me, Leon.”

“Saved you from my own actions.” He let go of your hand and buried his face in his palms. The stress of everything was beginning to get to him, Marvin was only the final straw of everything that had been building up recently. 

“Hey,” You moved Leon’s palms from his face, taking his hands in yours and holding them gently. “Leon, without you I wouldn’t be here right now. Not only because you stopped Marvin, but because of all the other zombies and monsters you’ve saved me from today.” He still didn’t look convinced, so you continued. “Your hesitation only further proves how caring you are. Marvin was our friend.” Leon looked away at the word ‘was’. You sigh, moving putting one hand on his cheek and redirecting his gaze to you. 

“You’re a good person, Leon. I need you to know that.” It felt like there was a laser between your eye contact, anything that tried to pass through would simply burn out. You were all he could see and vice versa. Suddenly, Leon’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in. His face buried itself into your neck, beads of water, presumably tears, beginning to run down your skin. 

“Thank you.” It was just above a whisper, but you heard him crystal clear. There the two of you sat in each other's arms, recollecting yourself for the certain hell you had to face once more.

[marvelouslizzie]

"Not a study date"

Summary: You have the biggest crush on Bucky Barnes but despite all your efforts, he doesn’t seem to notice you. Can one study date change it all?

Pairing: College Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, idiots in love, study date, misunderstandings, jealousy, language, oral sex (male and female receiving), protected sex, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 6.4K

A/N: I really wanted to write a College!Bucky Barnes story and this is it. It’s full of foolishness, miscommunication, and jealousy with a happy ending. This means it’s basically smut with a little bit of plot. I hope you enjoy it and if you do please give some kind of feedback. Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Nothing seems to change whenever you visit your best friend's ex-boyfriend Sam Wilson. That sounds weird every time you remember Michelle dated him but things are just fine between them since it was Michelle who just decided to change schools and they ended things on friendly terms. He’s a good friend and really fun to play games with since he’s a sore loser but most importantly he’s your only connection to Bucky Barnes. 

God, that sounds so wrong. Like you are only friends with him just to be closer to Bucky, that’s definitely not the case but you can’t deny Bucky is one of the reasons you are visiting him so often. You like that Bucky secretly watches you two while you are playing games and celebrates your every victory. You know he just loves to annoy Sam but it makes you so happy every time he joins your efforts to brag about winning but that’s mostly it. 

You tried really hard to find some common interests with Bucky so you two can chat. He likes games, he loves reading books and you have a couple of classes together. You have a lot of things in common but nothing sticks for long when you are trying to have a conversation with him. You are not sure if it’s because he’s totally uninterested in you or you are just horrible at flirting. This doesn’t stop you from trying though. 

That’s why you are at Sam and Bucky’s place. Once again you found a reason to stop by and maybe because he has had enough of you, Bucky makes a comment that you did not expect.

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on Sam.”

“What?” The shock you feel is so hard to explain. You how no idea how surprised you sound.

“Well, you are here nearly every day.” Bucky tries to explain his thought process, already sounding awkward because of your reaction.

“Eww, no.” 

“What do you mean eww no?” Sam sounds offended.

“You are my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and?” God, does Sam thinks that way, too? You thought you two had an understanding. “You dated my best friend. You are like a brother to me. Of course, I’m gonna say eww.”

“Oh, some kind of girl's code, huh?” Bucky somehow sounds relieved but you don’t notice it’s because of your response.

“Great answer, bub. I was testing you.” Sam’s offended tone instantly disappears.

“Were you?” Bucky questions him before you can. “You sounded really offended to me.”

“Part of my talent.”

The conversation quickly changes into something else but Bucky’s observation sticks with you. Bucky thinking you might have feelings for Sam leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are here to see him, day after day, and all this time he thought you just came to see Sam. Either he’s blind or you are just not good at showing your intentions. And then there’s a third option that you don’t even wanna think about: He noticed exactly who you are here for and decided to ignore it so he doesn’t have to reject you. Either way, it hurts. 

You consider canceling your study session with Bucky. It’s just gonna be awkward to sit next to him and try to focus on the notes. Plus, you are sure studying alone will be more efficient. No distractions at all.

“About our studying session…” You start to speak before leaving with the intention to cancel your plans.

“Oh yeah, you are still coming, right?” Bucky’s whole face lights up. It’s hard not to see it. He seems excited. “I convinced Faye to share her notes with me. You know how great her notes are. It’s already guaranteed that we will get an amazing score.”

Oh, that’s why he’s excited. Because he used his charm and managed to convince Faye to share her notes. She doesn’t do that often, if ever. She knows how precious her notes are and he’s right. That is literally your golden ticket to get a great score. 

“I was gonna ask if you still want to study together.”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He sounds confused.

“I don’t know.” You sound unsure. “Maybe you are tired of me since I’m always around.”

“Oh, come on! I was just joking.” He quickly responds. “You always come here to spend time with Sam. We never hang out just the two of us.”

He’s right. He always stays away from you. Only making comments from far away. Maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign.

“This is not hanging out, either. It’s just studying together.” 

He shrugs and you miss the disappointed expression that passes his face.

“Just come, okay? I promise it will be worth it.”

“Ugh, I’m glad I won’t be here. You two are insufferable. It’s just a study date. No big deal.” Sam can’t help but comment on your conversation.

“It’s not a date.” You and Bucky say at the same time. You look at him, feeling disappointed but try to hide it as much as you can.

“Whatever you say,” Sam raises both of his hands in defense but doesn’t seem like he believed you.

*

This was definitely a bad idea. It’s been a while since you two started studying and you did not understand a word. Not because Faye’s notes are bad. Nope, they are perfect but you can’t seem to focus on the words. The only thing you can focus on is Bucky’s smell. You try really hard not to check him out and it’s relatively easier since he’s sitting close to you but his smell… God, that’s so distracting. You have no idea what exactly it is. It seems like a mix of his own smell, the perfume he uses, and a bit of a sweat. You should be disgusted by the thought of sweat but all you want to do is get closer to him.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. This is just a silly crush, nothing more. You can just focus on the notes and learn something useful before the exam. You can do that, right? While you try to read the same sentence for the 19th time, Bucky takes his phone and starts to type something. The idea of him texting someone else while studying with you is so irritating but there’s nothing you can do about it. This is just a stupid study session for him. You push your chair to the back, thinking about getting a glass of water.

“I’m gonna get-” When you notice the awkward expression on Bucky’s face you stop talking. Before he can cover it, you notice the reason he’s looking so uncomfortable. His erection is impossible to hide in those gray shorts he’s wearing. 

“It’s not what you think.” He immediately responds while trying to hide his erection but there’s no way he can tuck it in while you are staring at him.

“Are you really sexting with someone while we are studying?” That’s the first thing that comes to your mind and you can’t keep that thought to yourself. 

“What? No!”

“I mean… it’s alright. You can see or talk to whoever you want but…” It’s so hard to collect your thoughts and turn them into meaningful sentences while your mind is running miles in seconds. It feels so humiliating and not because of the erection. The thought of him sexting someone right next to you… while you tried to get his attention all this time… It just stings.

“What the fuck?” He sounds completely shocked. “I’m not sexting anyone. Why would you even think that?”

“Why else would you get an erection in the middle of studying?” You really can’t think of any other possibilities. Plus he’s still holding his phone. “It’s fine.”

He says your name in a way he never did before. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not sexting with anyone. I texted Sam and then I was googling a word I saw in Faye’s notes because I have no idea what it means and I thought it would help me calm down.”

“Oh.” That’s completely unexpected. Then why did he get an erection out of the blue?

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want you to find out like this. God! It’s so embarrassing.” His words don’t make sense to you. What is he trying to say?

“Find out about what?” You try to understand him. “That you get erections?”

“What? No.” Then what did he mean? “I didn’t want you to find out… about my feelings… like this.” He sounds so nervous, even more nervous than you are feeling.

“For me?” The question comes instantly because there is no way that’s what he meant.

“Of course for you. Who else?” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You finally put two and two together. “You just got an erection, because of me?”

“Ihm…” You can’t help but notice how awkward he sounds. “Yeah… I’m really sorry. I’m so ashamed.” He covers his face with both of his hands for a second. Then he continues. “I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I swear I’m not a creep. You just smell… so good.”

“You just got an erection because you have feelings for me?” You are sounding like a stuck record at this point but you can’t believe he really said that.

“Yeah. I was planning to ask you out, tonight. That’s why I was texting Sam but… instead… I made a fool of myself.” The panic in tone is so evident. Your eyes go back to his still-obvious erection. “I’m normally not like this. I don’t know what happened. Please forgive me.”

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You ask without taking your eyes off the outline of his erection.

“What?”

“Since you got hard because of me, I’m offering help.” You slowly close the distance between you two.

“That’s not… necessary.” He gulps. “It will go away in a few minutes.”

You have no idea where this wave of confidence comes from. Maybe because he just told you he wanted to ask you out or maybe because the smell of you gave him a hard-on. You just find yourself gently palming his erection over his shorts and he instantly takes a sharp breath.

“What if… I don’t want it to go away?”

“You’re not… you’re not offended?”

“You are not a random creep out in the street, Bucky. I know you. I like you. Why would I be offended?”

“Wait, you like me?” He sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.” You keep gently rubbing him. He doesn’t take a step back or try to stop you. His eyelashes flutter like he’s enjoying the sensation. “Why do you think I was visiting Sam so often?”

“Not because you have a crush on him?” He asks with a smile.

“Nope, because I have a crush on you.”

“You… have… a crush on me?” It feels like in the span of a couple of minutes, you two changed roles and it’s his turn to feel surprised by your words.

“Yeah. For a while.”

“I guess Sam was right.” 

“Was he?” You ask while you move your head closer. “About what?”

“He said you like me and I’m too blind to notice it.”

“Hmm… Even he noticed it, huh? I guess he is right.” Bucky looks at your lips while you are talking. You can see the idea of kissing you forming in his head.

“Can I…” He sounds like he isn’t sure, yet he tries one more time. “Can I kiss you?”

“My hand is on your hard cock, right now. What do you think?” Your response gives him a huge grin.

“I still wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes, you can kiss me, Bucky.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips instantly crush on yours, like a thirsty man who finally found a glass of cold water. His lips move fast against yours until you rub on his cock again. It makes him gasp in the middle of the kiss, and the rhythm is lost. You feel how painfully hard he is under your touch. You don’t know if it is your effect or it’s because it has been a while for him. You would like to know, but you don’t want to ask. Instead, your hands move to the waistband of his shorts. You look directly into his eyes, silently asking for permission. He just gulps and then blinks. 

You always thought he was just distant when it comes to you, but you finally realize it was actually Bucky’s shyness. He gets flushed under your touch, struggling to find the right words. He communicates through his body language, but you want to change that a little. You want him to be vocal if you are gonna have sex. That’s when the idea of sucking him off comes to you. Unexpectedly, you kneel and gently push his shorts and boxers down while he watches you with big eyes. There’s no fear or worry behind those eyes. You see how excited but reserved he is. You want to show him there’s nothing to worry about. While directly looking at him, you start to stroke him. His cock is so close to your face, but you don’t make a move, you only move your hand up and down on his shaft slowly. His breathing shutters under your touch, but he says nothing. He just watches you.

“Is this okay?” You ask, already knowing it is. You just want him to talk. You wanna hear his voice.

“Ye-yeah.” He sounds so breathy. You start to twist your wrist a little, just to change the sensation.

“What about this?” He takes a deep breath.

“So good.” 

Maybe he isn’t a talker during sex. That’s fine, but you don’t want to give up that quickly. So this time, you sit on your knees and take him inside your mouth without any warning.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” His reaction makes you want to smile so widely, but your mouth is full of him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” You ask while pumping him with your hand.

“Just warn me, so I don’t embarrass myself.”

“Embarrass yourself how?” Your question catches him off guard. “I wanna hear those reactions. Don't hold back!” 

He just nods like a good boy, and that makes you smile. You don’t say anything, though. You just take him back into your mouth. This time, he lets out a moan. Your tongue moves around the head of his cock, swirling over and over again until he whines. He literally whines under your tongue and that makes you feel like you won a prize. It doesn’t take him long to grab your hair. He doesn’t try to control your movement or push you. It just feels like he’s trying to find something to hold on to.

You pace up a little, moving your head up and down on his cock while gently massaging his balls. That does it. First, you hear a loud moan that sounds like choking, then before he could even utter a word, the first shot of his come hits the back of your throat. You keep going until he empties himself. While you move away from him, you see his eyes are still closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them just in time to catch you swallowing.

“Oh my fucking god…” He sounds like he can’t believe what he is witnessing. You wonder if no one has ever done this in front of him before.

“How are you feeling now?” Your voice is much calmer than you expect. 

“So good. You have no idea.”

“I might have a little bit of an idea.” You smile while standing up. The hard floor tired your knees so you rub both of them.

“That was just amazing.” For some reason, he sounds younger and inexperienced at this moment. Like this was his first blowjob ever but you know that’s not the case. You heard a couple of stories from Sam, and you know this isn’t Bucky’s first rodeo. Yet, he sounds so affected by you. That directly goes to your ego.

You sit back down on your chair, not knowing what to do next, but it doesn’t take you long to realize Bucky does. He’s already getting on his knees while you give him a confused look.

“You know, that’s not necessary, right?”

“I know.”

“You don’t need to return the favor or anything. I did it because I wanted to.” You have no idea why you are discouraging him to do whatever he is planning on doing. You want to see what he wants, yet you don’t want him to feel obliged or anything.

“And now I am doing this because I want to.” 

He puts his hands on both of your legs, gently pushing them apart. You didn’t realize how turned on you are until this moment. Your focus was completely on him, wanting to make him feel good and you forgot about yourself. You didn’t even realize how wet you are. Carefully, he moves into the space between your legs and pushes your skirt up. His fingers graze over your covered pussy, and you are sure he can actually feel your wetness through the fabric.

“Can I take it off?” God, why does he sound so shy while asking that? And why does it turn you on even more?

“Are you gonna ask my permission for every single move?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“I like it, but you don’t have to ask everything. Not after coming inside my mouth.” You smile after finishing your sentence and you watch how flushed he gets, but you see that he understands what you mean. His hands reach for your underwear and take it off pretty quickly like he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t touch your skirt, simply gets under it. That’s why you can’t see the first time he licks you. Immediately you move your skirt up to your waist and here he is, buried between your legs. He hungrily eats you out, his long licks sending shivers down your spine. 

“Oh my god!” 

Your reaction makes him look up for the first time. That flushed expression turned into pure hunger. His blue eyes watch every mimic you make while he starts to suck your clit. He definitely started strong, but you can’t complain, especially when you are this soaked. You didn’t even realize you pushed your legs together and trapped him between them until he gently pushed them apart.

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly say, but he doesn’t seem to care. He licks, he sucks, and does everything in his power to crumble under his touch. It’s so intense that you can’t think of anything other than the way he makes you feel. You don’t even notice how quickly your first orgasm hits you. It’s hard and fast. You can’t keep your voice down. No, you moan his name so loudly. If he didn’t come a couple of minutes ago, the way you said his name over and over again would get him hard again. Even with that in mind, he could feel the blood rushing to his dick, yet he keeps licking you until you push his head away.

“That’s… that’s enough.” It’s hard to breathe normally. You really didn’t expect to come this hard. The orgasm is still running through your whole body. 

“Sensitive?” His voice is low yet sweet.

“Yeah, a little.” You take a deep breath. “Just give me a second.”

He does that, but instead of moving away, he puts his head on your leg. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you look at him. He is so pretty like this, looking up to you with big blue eyes and a wet mouth. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “I didn’t expect to come this hard.”

“Well…” You watch a big grin spreading on his lips. “Welcome to my world. I didn’t expect to come without a warning either.”

“That good?”

“Oh, yeah. That good.” He quickly agrees. “Sorry about that though.”

“Sorry about what?” You really have no idea what he means.

“Sorry about coming without warning.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” You stop for a second. “Sorry about giving you a hard-on.”

“The most embarrassing and the most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”

“Hmm… How so?” You fish for more.

“I don’t… You know… Go around getting hard-ons randomly.”

“Really? I thought that happened a lot to men.” 

“Not like this. Waking up with morning wood? Yeah. That happens, but getting an erection in the middle of studying? That’s a first.”

“Happy to have a first in your life.”

“I never came like this without a warning either.”

“Two firsts.” You don’t realize how smug you sound, but he does.

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I have ever come this hard without… you know… something inside me.”

“Is that so?” The way he smiles just makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “You like to have something inside?”

“If they know… how to use it.”

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?” 

He moves his head away from your right leg, repositioning himself, and before you could say anything, his mouth is on you again. His tongue is gentle, testing the waters to see if you are still sensitive, but honestly, you are not. You just want him to move a little faster. You don’t say it though. You want to see what he is planning. He keeps on licking you for a while, making sure you are ready for his fingers and when he decides that you are, he slowly pushes his index finger inside. You moan in response.

“Does it feel good?” He takes his mouth off your clit for a second to ask.

“Yeah. It feels so good!” You can feel what he is trying to do. He’s building up your pleasure so slowly, you know it’s going to be explosive at the end. He keeps pumping his finger in and out of you while watching your expressions. 

“Do you want the second one or…” You don’t let him finish his question. 

“I want the second one.”

Your response makes him smile again. You are not sure what makes him happier: your eagerness or your openness. It does seem like he isn’t used to getting direct feedback, but he thrives on it. Quickly, he adds the second finger inside and you can’t help but notice how his thick fingers are filling you. It’s such a delicious feeling. You are so lost in it, you don’t realize how he leans back into your pussy. He nibbles your clit carefully while moving his finger at a steady pace. You can’t help but think he knows what he’s doing and he’s good at reading your reactions. He notices you react more when he licks instead of sucks, so he quickly switches back to it.

“Oh, fuck!” You love how his tongue feels against your skin. Your hands find his hair, pulling it gently just to ground yourself. You feel him moan against your clit when you tug on his hair. The idea of him enjoying it somehow turns you on even more. You decide to test it and pull his hair a little bit more when you feel like doing it. His loud moan vibrates on your swollen clit. It’s like he can’t get enough of it.

“Someone likes a bit of pain.” 

He pulls away from your pussy for a second. When he looks at you, you can see how turned on he is. The hunger is evident in his eyes. 

“Someone likes being full.”

“I’m not full, yet.” You aren’t trying to tease him, that’s the truth yet you can see that sounds like a promise to him. The promise of taking a lot more than just two fingers. He doesn’t say anything. He just goes back to licking and pumping his fingers. The only difference is he’s moving a lot faster than before and you aren’t sure how long you can take this before your orgasm comes back to crush you. It’s overwhelming yet not enough. You don’t realize how your body arches before you start to lose yourself in that pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words come out involuntarily. “Don’t stop, Bucky. Please. So good. So fucking good.”

He keeps going, keeping that same pace. He wants to encourage you and talk to you, but his mouth is busy giving you pleasure. Hearing you moaning and begging is enough for now.

“Oh, god.” Your whole body starts to shake. It’s like your whole body is electrified. “Yes, yes, yes, Bucky. God, I love your mouth so much.”

He smiles against your clit but doesn’t break the contact. He didn’t think you would be this vocal, but he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Ahh, fuck, ahhh yes.” You moan out while shaking. You have no idea how long this orgasm lasts, but you feel so good. As your shaking starts to slow down, Bucky starts to move slower to match that.

“Mmm.” You knew sex with Bucky would be good but this is definitely how you imagined it. Finally, he moves his mouth away from you when he realizes your orgasm is done. You feel so boneless, so relieved.

“Are you okay?” His question brings you back to reality and you notice your eyes are closed. You open them back up and meet his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” He smiles so proudly.

“Glad to hear that.”

“You have no idea how tired yet relaxed I am feeling right now.”

“Not too tired I hope.” That surprises you.

“Why is that?”

“I thought you wanted to be full.” Then you see his erection. It’s actually impossible not to see how painfully hard he is even though he already came once.

“You want to…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You thought you would be done after this. You never had someone who wanted you like this before. The feeling settles into your chest. He wants you. He still wants you that bad after coming so hard. It makes you feel seen and desired.

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“Oh, I do.” Your response is instant. You really do. Even after two orgasms, you feel like you want more. You imagined riding his dick or him bending you over and fucking you hard so many times. You want to know how it really feels. 

“Good.” He stands up, and when his erection is on your eye level, you can’t help but stare. Not every dick is aesthetically pleasing. Some don’t even look like they would feel good, but Bucky… Bucky’s dick waters your mouth like you didn’t already give him a blowjob. You need it inside of you. While you are lost in thoughts, Bucky picks you up from your chair. You let out a small yelp while he offers you a warm smile.

“Just carrying you to the bedroom, doll.”

“Doll?” You never heard him use that nickname before.

“Yeah, you are a pretty little doll. So beautiful and so smart. Very eager and loud.”

You don’t know how to react. A lot of praises combined with stuff that makes you wanna question him more.

“Am I that loud?” You can’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure my neighbors hate us right now.”

“Oh god.” You feel your cheeks getting red, but he doesn’t seem concerned.

“Don’t let that stop you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel, doll.” He gently puts you on top of the bed. 

“Doll.” You repeat, without an implied question mark. 

“If you don’t like it…”

“I do. I really do.” You want to be his pretty little doll and your reaction makes him smile again. “It’s just new. I never heard you say it.”

“Because it is only for you.” Those words cause different a kind of warmth to spread through your chest.

You watch him open the drawer and pull out a condom. He rips the package off impatiently and puts it on with haste. Seeing how impatient he is makes you giggle and that makes him look back at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Someone is eager to be inside me.”

“Aren’t you eager to feel my cock inside you?” His words take you by surprise. What happened to that shy boy who couldn’t find the word to tell you what he wants? Your shocked look makes him worry a little. He’s afraid that he crossed some kind of line.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Your words sweep away his fear.

“You like that?” He asks while closing the distance between you. “You like when I say dirty stuff like that?”

“Yeah. I love it.”

“You wanna hear how good you are for me?” You didn’t expect that question at all. He moves closer to you, forcing you to lie down. He positions himself between your legs. “Because you are so good for me.” His words make your pussy clench around nothing. You really need him inside you, and he doesn’t waste any time. He knows you are as impatient as he is. He slowly pushes his cock inside, taking his time and being gentle. He moves back and then forth until he’s balls deep inside you and you can’t hold back that loud moan. It just feels so good to be full.

“Shit.” You throw your head back. Your legs automatically wrap around his torso. He leans down and gives you a long kiss, taking his sweet time so you can get used to the feeling of him. Then he starts to move slowly while his mouth moves to your neck, gently sucking on your skin. It feels great, but somehow it’s not enough. So you start to move your hips with him, matching his rhythm but creating more friction.

“You want more already?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, more like he’s amused.

“Yeah. I need it harder.”

“Harder.” He repeats. “My doll needs it harder.”

Before you can say anything, he moves away from you. A loud whine leaves your lips. You don’t like that feeling of emptiness. You want to protest, but he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He pushes your legs up and repositions himself between your legs. Then without saying a word, he gets inside you again.

“Holy fuck.” Your reaction comes out instantly. It feels so different, even more full. Then he starts to move, a little harder than before. Even though he isn’t using much force, because of the angle, it feels much better.

“Is it hard enough for you?” He sounds cheeky. 

“Yes, for now.”

“For now.” He repeats your words. “For now is good because we are just starting.”

You would love to say something back, but it feels too good. The only thing you can do is moan. With every moan you let out, he moves a little bit faster, he grows a little bit more impatient. He pays attention to what makes you moan more, which movement makes you lose yourself, and tries to repeat them. The room is filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and how wet you are. Combined with your moans, he starts to lose control and move faster than before. That triggers more moans out of you. It turns into a vicious cycle until you are panting and begging.

“Please, please, please…” You can already taste your orgasm. It’s that close.

“Please what? Tell me what you need.”

“More… I need more.”

“Be more specific, doll. More of what?” That nickname sends a jolt of electricity through your body. “Do you want me to rub your clit?”

“No, no.” That’s not what you need. “I need you to move faster.”

“If I move faster… I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Don’t hold back.” You say while taking deep breaths. “Let’s come together.”

“Are you sure? It won’t last that long.”

“Try to hold back until I say let go.” You really want to come at the same time.

“I’m not sure if that will work.”

“You can stop anytime if you feel like you are about to come before me. That’s okay.”

“But what about…” You don’t let him finish.

“We can build my orgasm back up. It’s there, I can feel it. Just move as fast as you can and try to hold back. You can let go when I start coming, okay?”

He nods, but you see he’s not fully convinced. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.

“It’s okay if you come before me. Not the end of the world.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna let you down.” The vulnerability is so evident in his voice.

“You can never let me down. I don’t care if you come early. I will take it as a compliment.”

Your words make him smile a little. His hesitation is still there, but the urge to please you outweighs his worries. He leans down and kisses you in response. Long and full of love. You realize how much your words mean to him just with that kiss. When he pulls back, he starts to move again. He returns to his previous pace and starts to go faster bit by bit. You can feel that familiar feeling of approaching orgasm again. It’s slowly building up, but when you look at Bucky’s face, you notice he’s closer than you are. You need to get there a little faster. That’s why your fingers quickly find your clit and start to rub. When he notices what you are doing, he groans. His hips start to move so fast, you can’t help but scream. Your fingers combined with his fast pace finally push you over that edge.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.” You repeat without thinking and he knows what that means. He can finally let go. His hands grab your waist, getting that support he needs to fuck you into the mattress. The way he moves makes you see the stars. 

“Fuck, doll, I’m coming too!” Your mouth opens for a silent scream while he starts to come. The way he moans and groans fills you with pleasure, knowing you are the reason behind all of that. “Oh, god.” He keeps moving even though he’s done. He wants you to enjoy your orgasm till the last drop and you do. You let yourself thrive on every last bit of that amazing feeling. 

He finally stops moving when he realizes you are done. He gently pulls himself out of you, making you whine a little, and lays right next to you. You turn to your side, facing him while still trying to calm your breathing down.

“You just ruined me,” he suddenly says.

“I ruined you? I think it’s the other way around, mister.” He’s the one who gave you three mind-blowing orgasms and he has the audacity to say this. 

“I don’t think you understand.” He sounds calm yet sure. “Sex never felt this amazing before.”

His words make you giggle a little but you are aware he’s right. It never felt this good before him and there’s no way you can go back.

“You are a thief.”

“Me? A thief?” Your words catch him off guard.

“Yep, you are stealing my thoughts and presenting them as yours.” 

“So it was that good for you too?”

“My mind is blown. You have no idea.” That gives him the biggest grin. 

“Does that mean you will let me take you on a date?”

“What date?” You play dumb. You know exactly what he means but you want him to actually ask. 

“You know what date.”

“Nope, I don’t. I haven’t been asked on a date for ages.”

He grabs your hand and looks directly into your eyes. “Will you go on a date with me, doll?”

“Of course, I will, with pleasure.” And that makes him laugh.

“Yep, a lot of pleasure.”

“Shit!” You suddenly jump.

“What?” He sounds so worried.

“Our exam!” You completely forgot about it. “We were supposed to study!”

“We still have time.” He tries to calm you down. “Just lie down a little until you catch your breath. We have Faye’s notes, remember? It’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Oh, yeah.” You remember Faye’s notes. It suddenly changes your mood.

“Are you okay?” He immediately notices. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. We are lucky we have her notes.” You try not to sound bitter but it doesn’t work. He sees right through it.

“Remind me to thank her tomorrow.” You feel the jealousy build up inside you because you know it doesn’t matter how much you beg, Faye never shares her notes, and Bucky managing to convince her could mean only one thing.

“Yeah, I should thank her too.”

“You definitely should.” He watches how your expression changes after his words and his smile grows.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Nothing. I just love seeing you get jealous for nothing.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Sure, that’s why you look like you wanna stab her a couple of times.”

“No, I don’t.” You deny it at first, but you can see he doesn’t believe you. “I just… know that she doesn’t share her notes with anyone. She must have a crush on you. Which is understandable.”

“Is it?” He’s still smiling like a fool.

“Are you seriously enjoying this?” You are getting so angry that you try to move away from the bed but Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Let me go!”

“There’s nothing to get jealous about, doll.” He sees you don’t believe him. “I only have eyes for you and that’s what I said to Faye to convince her to give me her notes.”

“What?”

“I told her I want to ask you out, but I wanna impress you with this study date first. She thought it was a great idea and shared her notes with me.”

“I thought this wasn’t a study date.” You remember him denying it was.

“Well, after everything that happened…” He gives you a look that screams sex. “I think we can finally call it a study date.” Those words give you the biggest grin.

“Can we have more study dates like this?”

“Anytime you want, doll. I’m at your service.”

[iwasbored777]

I've been reading posts about GUN and I know they're going to be so bad in the fourth movie. Because not only is it possible that Rockwell, you know the openly xenophobic agent, will be the leader, but we're also going to have the Metal Sonics. When GUN sees alien threats built from the image of the alien they hate the most and can't chase, it's going to be the perfect excuse to want to capture Sonic and also Tails and Knuckles for sure. Not only that, with Amy in the movie it's going to get worse! If she really can travel through time with her chaos energy, I have no doubt that GUN will want to capture her too so they don't get this insane trump card. I dare say that a Team Heroes X GUN conflict is kind of inevitable.

Thanks for this ask cuz I feel so honoured to shame GUN for everything they've done. That previous post about Shadow wasn't enough, they did so many terrible things and I can't believe I didn't write this before your ask.

I can barely list all the worst things they did but I'll try and I'll answer to your other stuff so I hope you're ready and I hope you don't mind this whole analysis 😅 but I really wanted to talk more about GUN and since you clearly hate/dislike them just as much as I do (and many feel the same way) I really want to complain about them to someone who'll listen:

They were the ones that sent Robotnik in the first place. At least at the beginning he was just doing his job.

They knew that Gerald was Ivo's grandfather and alive all these years but they chose to not tell Ivo and let him think that he has no family his entire life. They used him because he was a genius and wanted him to make all those inventions for them and when they thought that he died they just acted as if he never existed.

They hired one of their agents to seduce Sonic's aunt, propose to her, and plan the whole wedding so that they would capture Sonic (I'm sorry I'm trying to stay serious but what the hell is wrong with GUN?! I don't know if I should cry or laugh and this is only the beginning). Poor Rachel too! They didn't care about anyone whether it was humans or aliens. I kinda wasn't happy that Rachel couldn't stay mad, what they did to her was horrible.

They captured Sonic and Tails. Tails was injured when they captured him and they didn't do anything about it, they simply put him and Sonic in cages after they tased Sonic to make sure he's unconscious too, they arrested Tom too when he tried to defend his son. This scene always breaks me, poor babies 😢

They found Shadow when he landed on Earth, kidnapped him, held him in a cryo pod and were doing experiments on him. (Gee, I wonder why Tom and Maddie didn't trust GUN with Sonic and kept Sonic hidden in their house instead after the first movie).

They were responsible for the death of a child, Maria (Walters did try to protect her and Shadow but when others killed her he mistreated Shadow. He definitely had more sympathy for Maria, she was a human child after all.) This moment right here physically hurts me cuz not only that they don't seem to care about the child they just killed but also they're surrounding Shadow and Gerald with weapons as if Shadow and Gerald were the ones who did something terrible here... They didn't care about the child they just killed, they only wanted to capture Shadow, that was their priority and Maria was just a collateral damage.

Right after they killed Maria they threw Gerald, her grandfather who loved her, in jail for 50 years and forced him to make Eclipse Cannon, that can destroy the planet. He went crazy because of all that and WHO WOULDN'T?!

They froze Shadow for 50 years (would definitely stay frozen way longer if he didn't escape) because they just didn't know what to do with him and kept him awake and fully aware of what they were doing to him during the process. I'll once again remind y'all of Walters' comment that Shadow was "too valuable to destroy", because Shadow was property to them and not a young living being with feelings and trauma that they gave him. His face here breaks my heart... Look how helpless he was here...

I added as many examples of how terrible GUN is as I can remember but if there are more you can always add them in the comments. I could easily add every scene and every screenshot with GUN cuz even at their better moments, they're still really bad, but I tried to pick the most important parts.

As for Rockwell, yeah she's gonna be a handful. She's definitely worse than Walters. At least he realized in his last moments that you can trust some aliens, but she isn't going to be easy to convince. They'll probably be even worse from now on and they probably didn't learn their lesson after Shadow. They better not hurt my baby girl Amy or the Colorful Bunch. I have some theories but I'd rather wait and see what's next.

Amy was hiding her identity here from Metal Sonic but I'm not sure if she doesn't want GUN to find her either cuz she's not hiding from Sonic, she let him see her.

Either way, it's not going to be easy for our alien kids and GUN gave me no reason to trust them so far. It says a lot that Robotnik and Stone were WAY more likeable to me than GUN. I hope GUN will leave Shadow alone and if they can't, I hope he'll kick GUN's butts again.

[mirainwonderland]

Summary: you have an anxiety attack and he comforts you

Content: depictions of anxiety and panic, comfort, fluff, established relationship. Brief mentions of blood but nothing graphic

A/N / Disclaimer: I lowkey hate this 🥲 but if you struggle sometimes like I do, here’s how I think Leon would help you (I think he knows what he’s doing because he’s been through them too 🥺). Little disclaimer that everyone is probably different and I just wrote based on the anxiety experiences I have. Sending love and hugs to anyone who deals with anxiety everything’s gonna be ok <3 muah k luv you bye

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Longest day of your life. You’re more exhausted than a mother of five in a coffee shortage. Yet here you are, lying awake, stiff as a board in your bed, staring at the ceiling. A car goes by on the street outside, the light filtering in through the blinds and casting shadowed stripes across the walls and ceiling. You swear you can hear the ticking of the clock in the kitchen from here, and you let out a puff of air through pursed lips.

It’s driving you insane.

How many hours past midnight have you counted again? Oh right, 20 minutes. You feel like you’ve been lying here for eons, counting the even breathes beside you. You’re a little jealous watching Leon sleep peacefully beside you. Usually this is a him problem, and not yours. Not even the consistent, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest has calmed you. Usually his presence made you relax, and from there you’d grow sleepy.

But not tonight for god knows what reason.

You really do know, though. The day you’ve had keeps replaying over and over in your mind. Everything seemed to go wrong, your anxiety was horrible, and to add insult to injury you’re pretty sure your period is coming in a couple of days.

The joys of womanhood. Isn’t it fun?

You blow another breath through your mouth. All jokes aside, you feel like you’ve been doing worse lately. And the worst part about that is that you feel like you haven’t been able to tell Leon about it. You don’t really know why. It feels kind of humiliating to admit you’re not doing good, and you can’t figure out how to even broach the subject in the first place.

So you stay quiet, suffering alone in your silence like a devoted martyr to your anxiety. You wonder how holy you’d be by now if constant internal panic was measured in penance of some sort.

Leon hates it when you do that. He’s told you so many times to just come talk to him. And even though you want to, you can’t seem to break down your wall of pride and let him in. Even though the little girl in you is screaming for someone to hold her when the room goes dark, you still can’t bring yourself to tug on his sleeve and ask for help. You feel like a pick me begging for attention.

You sigh and sit up. You can’t stand your thought process anymore as it drifts to this uncomfortable territory, and you throw back the covers to go get a drink of water. It’s your own greatest enemy, your mind. And the worst part is, you can only run from it for so long. Because no matter how much you bottle things in, it will catch up with you sooner than you think.

You flip on the soft oven light for a little guidance, but not enough to chase away any traces of sleepiness that might be lingering as you fill a glass with cold water from the sink. Your head kind of hurts as you turn to rest against the counter and take a sip of water. Your chest tightens as soon as the water hits your stomach and you don’t really feel good.

You try to brush it off at first as low blood sugar or something. But it doesn’t go away, and becomes a little more insistent, and suddenly your chest aches.

Shit.

Your hands start to shake as that familiar feeling creeps back in to compress on your ribs. It’s a sick feeling, like you’ve eaten too much cake or like you’re really thirsty but no amount of water can help. As it gets worse, you feel like you can’t breathe. You hadn’t had an episode in a while, but all that stuffing your feelings nonsense got to you. Not healthy.

You go to set the glass down on the counter, but you don’t quite clear the edge and it knocks the water out of your hands. The loud noise of it shattering on the tile irritates you more, and your shoulders jolt. Every nerve feels on needle-point edge, the sudden overstimulation making your head feel like it’s gonna explode.

You press a hand against your chest, breathing having grown rapid as your vision blurs around the edges.

“Hey.” You don’t even see or hear him until Leon has your shoulders and speaks right in front of your face. Your shoulders jerk again when he grabs you, and your hands fly out to grab at something. They find his arms.

“I-I… I can’t breathe…!” You tremble, your head growing light and tingly from the shallow panting.

“I know… I know, easy.” Avoiding the broken glass, Leon lifts you effortlessly onto the counter. He’s calm, his voice deep and even and a little rough from sleep.

“I-… I can’t—“

“Don’t think about it.” His voice an anchor somewhere in the haze of reality you’re struggling to get back to. “Take a breath.”

You try. Your lungs are shaking. It hitches, and you almost feel worse. He takes your hand and lays your palm flat agains his chest.

“Like this.” He sucks in a deep demonstrative breath through his nose, out through his mouth, making sure you can feel the way his chest rises and falls with the motion. “You know how, baby.”

“I-I can’t!”

“You can. Do it with me, c’mon.”

You focus your energy and your frayed concentration on the way his chest feels under your hand, the way the warmth creeps up your arm. On the way his breath sounds and feels. On the way the air feels spilling into your own lungs.

Gradually you regain control.

Leon tilts his head, trying to get a look at your face in the dimness of the stove light.

“‘Okay?” He murmurs, and you nod, letting your eyes crack open and your head fall back forward to look at him. You’re suddenly aware that your feet hurt and feel kinda sticky.

“C’mon.” He reaches for you, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you carefully out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom.

The light blinds you when he turns it on, and you squint and blink as he sets you on the counter, and your feet in the sink. The amount of blood on your feet scares and sickens you, but Leon lays a warm, gentle hand on the back of your head as he sets the first aid kit next to you.

“It’s okay. Don’t look.”

He makes sure there’s no shards of glass in your skin, he cleans the cuts gently and disinfects them. You watch quietly as he bandages them up, wrapping up the balls of one of your feet.

The silence is a little unsettling. Is he mad? Obviously he’s probably not too mad about the glass. He’d probably say it’s replaceable. But now he kinda knows there was something bothering you, and you clearly didn’t talk to him about it before it got bad.

“Sooo… what no lecture?” You finally blurt as he ties off the gauze. He glances up at you as he lowers your foot from the counter.

“For what?” You watch as he washes his hands in the sink and puts the first aid kit away.

“You know… for not… talking to you sooner, I guess.”

He gathers you into his arms again and you wrap yours around his neck as he flips off the light and carries you back to bed. He kisses your temple on the way back down the hall, watching as your eyelids droop sleepily when you don’t sense any tension in his body.

“Maybe tomorrow morning.”

He carries you back to bed and tucks you in. Laying down beside you, he holds his arm out for you to come a little closer and curl up under it. You scooch.

He rests his hand on the back of your head, his thumb brushing your hair behind your ear.

“I will say this though…” He murmurs deeply as you look up at him from your little spot in the sanctuary of his arms. “You know you can come to me, you know you’re not a burden and I like being there for you.”

He smoothes his thumb over your hair.

“I love you… k?” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay.” You reply in a little voice. You know he’s right. You know he means what he says. Leon’s not the type to waste words on sentiments he doesn’t mean. And hearing it again makes you feel a little silly for overthinking it.

“Okay.” Another kiss. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

This time, you’re out like a light.

[bet-on-me-13]

Dp X Injustice AU's

So, we have seen the frankly insane about of Dp x Dc AU's that have been spawned over the years. But I never really see any Injustice AU's

And then I thought, which Dp x Dc AU would you actually use for an Injustice AU?

Let me give some examples:

Justice League Member Danny: Danny is a part of the Justice League by the time Superman goes insane. He decides to step in when Shazam is nearly killed by Superman, but gets hurt himself in the process and is thrown in jail. This causes some of Superman's supporters to doubt him, since Danny is just a 16 yr old kid and Clark nearly killed him.

Danny is sill a Solo Hero: Danny is still just a Solo Hero from Amity Park in this. When Superman takes over the world, he goes to Amity to try and recruit Phantom. Danny refuses, and they butt heads. Danny eventually promises that he will continue to just act as a small time Vigilante in return for not joining Batman's side. This changes years later, when Superman is responsible for the death of Jazz Fenton.

Danny is a "Villain": Danny is seen as a Villain because he is a Ghost. At least, that's what the outside world thinks, but the situation in Amity is different. Danny has been seen as a Hero for years now, it's just the rest of the world that doesn't want to accept that fact. So when Superman takes over the world, and tries to execute every Villain, he goes after Phantom. Only for the Entire Town to try and stop him.

@little-pondhead Everlasting Trio Villain AU: So, take Little Pondhead's Villain AU and put it in the Injustice Universe. Danny can be the insane megalomaniac Villain he always wanted to be and not feel guilty because this is a Dictatorship. (Although it does remind him of Dan before his parole). He just has fun, messing with Superman, building insane crazy inventions, messing with Superman, enacting fun Villain plots, messing with Superman, and of course messing with Superman. Meanwhile Superman is just having a horrible time because there is just this random Villain, doesn't even seem to have powers, and he Just. Can't. Catch Him! Batman is looking for Fenton to recruit, meanwhile Fenton is literally here to Not be a Hero. It gets even worse when he brings in his Friends and Ellie.

Danny is the Ghost King: Danny is the Ghost King by now, and Batman's side try to Summon Him to deal with Superman during the whole "Super Pills" event. He shows up just in time to save Green Arrow, but isn't trong enough to kill Superman. He himself gets extremely injured in the process and gets forcibly summoned back to the Ghost Zone to be healed. Now the entire Dimension is gearing up to attack the Living World as revenge for their King being so hurt.

Old Man Danny AU: My own AU. Danny is still an Old Man just living in Gotham when Superman takes over. At one of his rally's to try and garner support and stop the rebellions, Danny stands up in the middle of the crowd and calls him out on all his Bullshit. This causes the whole crowd to start yelling at Superman, which in turn causes Superman to have a Homelander Moment. He kills Danny, who just laughs as he falls to the floor, and causes a riot. What Superman doesn't know, is that Danny was slated to ascend to Godhood at the moment of his Death, so now he has a God of Death chasing him to fulfill his "need to be avenged" urges (its like hunger pangs for ghosts)

Danny as a Medium: Danny is a Traveling Ghost Speaker, like the guy you pay $5 to pretend to speak to your dead loved ones, but he can actually speak to them. Superman is patrolling the world, just making the rounds now that he had conquered the Earth, and comes across Danny's Tent. He stops by in curiosity and asks to speak to his dead Wife. Danny asks if he really wants to put himself through that, but Superman insists. So Danny, instead of just speaking for the Ghost like normal, actually Summons Lois Lanes Ghost to talk to Superman. They have a heartfelt conversation about how it wasn't his fault, and how he shouldn't blame himself, but eventually they get to the topic of Clark talking over the world. She isn't proud, but understands if this is what it takes for him to be happy. She leaves, and Superman is left finally second-guessing himself for the first time in years. Because it doesn't make him happy. (*ahem* Danny still wants to be payed, soooo......)

[zigrethsnotebook]

I love your writing! I saw you wrote Stan with a chubby reader- it was great!

Could I request some Ford x chubby/self conscious reader?👉👈

Thank you and have a great day!

thank you so much and absolutely!! have fun<3

Chubby

Ford x Reader

words: 1,009

tags: sfw, fluff, insecurities, talk about weight

"You two are horrible, you know that?" Stan's gruff voice broke the silence in the living room. He was in his old recliner and Ford and you had made yourselves comfortable on the ground with some blankets and pillows.

"What are you talking about, Stanley?" Ford's voice sounded vaguely annoyed already. You stifled a chuckle, knowing he reacts that way because they're brothers.

"You two never go out. Which means! I never get an evening for myself." Now you looked up at him as well, untangling yourself a little from Ford’s arms as you did so. Ford must have frowned at him because he tried to make his words less harsh really quickly.

"Don't get me wrong, I love ya both but come on! When was the last time you two went out to eat, or to the movies or... anywhere, really? I had kinda hoped a partner would get you out of the basement more often, Sixer." As you thought about it, you realized he was right and immediately felt bad.

You never made an effort to go into town for a date because you didn’t like the way people stared at you both. You knew you weren't skinny but to stare at you like that? It hurt and was making you worry if you really deserve to be with someone like Ford.

He was so fit for his age, insanely handsome. Meanwhile you were just... you. Heavier than most people and while you tried to hide it as best as you could, you weren't very successful. Your weight had reached a point of not being able to be 'covered up'.

You had never spoken to Ford about this, your insecurities about your weight, and that that's why you didn’t enjoy going into town that much. Funnily enough, with Ford you had found someone who wasn't big on socializing like that either. He usually kept to himself down in his lab so he never brought it up.

But now Stan did. You swallowed heavily. Meanwhile Ford seemed to light up at the idea. "You're right, we should go on more conventional dates! It could be fun!"

Ford's voice got a little louder in your ear as he turned to you for the next sentence, squeezing your belly a little tighter in the process. "And I would get to show you off to the townsfolk while we're out."

Your expression had turned into a frown and without a word you took his arms off of you, got up and left the living room. Stan and Ford looked at each other in confusion for a moment before Ford got up to follow you.

"Love?" He called out and quickly found you in the kitchen. "What's wrong?" His voice was a lot softer now that he saw how upset you were. You sat at the table with your hands holding your head and eyes squeezed shut.

"I know I'm not much to look at but you don't have to mock me." You spat the words out more harshly then you meant to. "What?" His voice was barely above a whisper now, unable to grasp what you were talking about.

"I'm fat. I know, okay! You don't need to make fun of me for it." You had opened your eyes to look at him, anger flaring in them. Meanwhile Ford looked at you with so much concern, love and care that you felt like something was wrong. But the anger was already there.

"Why would I ever make fun of you for that?" His question was honest and the fiery rage started to flicker. "Wh- Because- You just said 'show you off' while squeezing my belly. I've seen the way the people looked at me the last time we went out together. How was I supposed to interpret that?"

Ford looked down at your belly for a moment and then locked eyes with you again and you could see the pain in his eyes. Making you feel bad was the last thing he wanted! He was only being honest. He loved you and wanted everyone in town to know about it.

"As... an honest sentiment? I... I love you, all of you. You know that, right?" Your anger was barely holding its own against the wind of his words that was trying to blow it out. Instead, his words now brought tears to your eyes.

"I said I want to show you off to the townsfolk because I do! I want to take you into the townsquare and yell: Look at my beautiful partner! They chose me! Aren't I lucky?"

Ford was kneeling in front of you now, reaching one hand out to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, a single tear rolling down your cheek and being immediately wiped away by Ford's thumb.

"I squeezed your belly because, well first off all, because that's what I was holding in that moment. But also, because I love your belly! It's a part of you that I love like any other part. And the fact that it's a little bigger is a plus in my eyes! It means that when we fall into another dimension we'll have more time to find a solution before we starve to death."

You furrowed your brows and chuckled lightly. "If... If we fall into another dimension, right?" Ford averted his eyes, his chuckle sounding more nervous than reassuring. "Right. If."

He looked back into your eyes, letting his thumb caress your cheek. "What I mean to say is: You are the most beautiful person in my eyes and I don’t care what anyone else thinks, okay?" His eyes held nothing but honesty and genuine affection for you.

You believed him. "Okay... yeah." You shook your head, the realization of all the stupid things you accused him of setting in. "God, I’m so sorry, Ford." "Don't be."

His voice was as gentle as before and he reached his other hand up as well to wrap you in a tight hug which you happily reciprocated. "Thank you."

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 44

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 41, part 42, part 43

Wayne’s getting really tired of being woken up this way. He thought choosing the room over Eddie’s would be a good idea. Even if it was close enough to the kitchen that he can hear the cabinets close and the dishes rattle. That he could deal with. He was used to living with thin walls.

What he wasn’t used to was living with this many fights that didn’t directly involve him. It’s nauseating. They do it repeatedly, never getting tired of it. Fighting over everything possible, finding something new every time one of them walks into the room.

He doesn’t know what to do about it. He doesn’t know how to get them to stop. It hurts because he knows why they’re doing it. It’s so easy to force the anger out at someone who’s willing to take it. Hurting themselves more in the process without realizing.

It’s just a horrible endless loop that’s haunted them for weeks. It needs to stop.

Wayne makes his way downstairs, hearing clips of the argument as he walks to the kitchen. It keeps jumping from topic to topic. Insults flying with no rhyme or reason. Only meant to hurt.

“Maybe if you stopped moping in your room and actually tried to get better, you wouldn’t be in here yelling at me,” Steve yells.

“Well maybe I would if you actually went out and tried to do something with your life. That way you wouldn’t smother me.”

Steve huffs. “Back to this really? You need to get some new material, Munson.”

“And you need to get some new moves. Since the old ones don’t seem to be working anymore. Nancy’s here all the time and hasn’t fallen for a single one of them,” Eddie snarls.

“I already told you, she’s not interested anymore. I’m not—”

“Clearly,” Eddie interrupts. Finding the strength to stand up. “All that work for nothing. She doesn’t want you anymore.”

Steve starts to deflate, the fight waning. Eddie hitting the nerve he wanted. Waiting for Steve to hammer the final nail in the coffin before storming out and leaving. Making it so Eddie is the one that’s most hurt. So he isn’t in the wrong.

But Steve doesn’t say anything. Wayne can see the tears start to build in his eyes. The way his body shuts down.

It’s finally going too far.

Eddie doesn’t see the signs, seeing Steve’s defeat as a victory. One that he doesn’t want, so he continues to bite. “I think I’ve finally figured you out Harrington. Big house, big personality. It’s a call for help really. Trying to make it seem like you have everything, when in reality, you have no one to share it with. You overcompensate to hide the fact that you can never make anyone stay.”

Wayne’s jaw clenches. His fist tightens. It was too far.

Steve laughs, voice wet. “I didn’t mind you fighting with me because I knew why you were doing it,” he says with such pain it stings more than any insult they’ve thrown. “But sometimes, Eddie, you’re just mean.”

He leaves the room. Not going to outside to clear his head. Not leaving in a huff. Just a sad walk with his arms crossed, and eyes spilling over with tears. Up to his room, locking himself away.

“You happy now?” Wayne spits. Tired of this. Tired of himself letting it get this far. “You finally got what you wanted?”

Eddie’s legs shake as he sits back on the stool. His face contorting with anger and pain. “I don’t want to hear this right now.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Wayne moves to block Eddie’s path to his room. “You don’t get to run away this time. Not when you’ve been doing nothing but hurting yourself and everyone around you. I let you do it for longer than I should.”

“You let me,” the anger in Eddie’s voice returns. “You can’t control me.”

“No, I can’t. But I can call you out when your bullshit anger is actively hurting the people around you. I can’t make you stop, but I can try to.”

Eddie forces himself to stand. A breath getting sucked in through his teeth as he tries to walk away. “I’m the one who’s had my life ruined. I deserve to be angry.”

Wayne lets him push past him, knowing that if he doesn’t, Eddie might fall. But he doesn’t let him get away so easily. He’s following after every step Eddie takes.

“You do deserve to be angry. I’m angry too. I see you suffering, and it kills me. It kills me to know that you will never live life the way you used to. But you know what I’m not doing, making everyone else’s lives miserable because of it.”

Eddie tries to close and lock the door before Wayne can get in. It doesn’t work. He’s not letting Eddie run away from it this time.

“Wayne,” Eddie almost pleads. The anger dissipating into the pain that caused it.

“No, you need to hear this. That boy,” Wayne points in the direction of Steve’s room, “let us stay in his home for free. He’s the reason we aren’t homeless right now. Not because he pities us, or because he’s lonely as hell, but because he cares about you. He has shown that a million times over. He lets you scream and taunt and be just outright fucking cruel because he knows that you don’t mean it. He knows that he can take it. But you went way too far today.”

Eddie’s legs give out as he tries to on his bed, making him fall the rest of the way. Wayne would go over to help, but he’s too caught up in his anger right now. He’s not sure Eddie would let him anyway. With the way this has been going.

“You’re hurting,” Wayne continues, forcing his voice to soften. “We know that. It’s why we’ve let you do this. But you can’t keep sulking in your room forever. Taking out this anger that you have out on us. Be angry. Hell, I am too. But you don’t get to hurt people just because you’re in pain.”

A sob breaks out of Eddie’s chest. His whole body shakes as he curls up in his bed. “I just want to be normal again.”

Wayne sits next to him. A hand reaching out to comfort him. The words starting to get clogged in his throat. “I know you do. I do too.”

“Every day I wake up and hope that this is a nightmare. That I won’t wake up in pain. But it just keeps getting worse. I don’t know how to live like this.”

“You learn how to. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s true. It sucks, it really fucking sucks. But each time you get up is a day that you keep living. That’s how I like to think about it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe for you. I sometimes wonder if it would have been better if I died that day. I would be dead, but you could remember me as I was, not as I am. Weak and helpless.”

“No,” Wayne insists. “No, I don’t think that. When I look at you, I see the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t feel very strong.”

“I don’t think I would in your situation either. But I think you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Eddie puts his chin on his knee. “You really think I can just get used to this? Just go and live a life where I’m in pain. Where I can barely walk on my own sometimes.”

“You’re not the first person to go through something like this and you won’t be the last. Not all of them had that determination that you got. I am certain that you will find a way to keep going, you always do.”

He lets out a wet laugh. Hands coming up to wipe his cheeks. “I really fucked this all up, didn’t I?”

“That I’m not sure of. I think that’s something you got to figure out yourself. But I have my hopes.”

“You really think he cares that much about me?” Eddie worries at his lip.

Wayne sighs. “You must think I’m stupider than I am. I can see the way that boy looks at you. He’s not trying to hide it at all.”

“I know,” he admits. Voice sounding hollow. “It scares me. He barely knows me. One day he’s going to look at me and realize that it’s not worth it. See everything that’s wrong with me and leave.”

“Maybe. But I think you’re not giving him enough credit. Not giving yourself enough credit. How are you going to know what will happen if you don’t even try?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You annoy me so much sometimes you know that?”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

The room falls silent. Becoming calm again.

“You better apologize to him.”

“I will. Just going to give him some space first.”

Wayne nods. Standing up. “Good.”

Later, when he’s getting ready to go to work, he sees Eddie walk out to the backyard and sit next to Steve by the pool. They’re talking, shoulders losing their tension as the playfulness returns. Eddie was right, whatever that is going to be is scary. But Wayne has some hopes that he’s keeping close to his chest.

note: yes, you will see that pool scene. And a few others scenes that just happen between Steve and Eddie. The last two chapters will be the epilogue, one from each of their perspectives. Speaking of, we're getting close to the end (I say that like this won't still be posted for months). This is the second to last Wayne pov chapter. There will be 16 chapters in total (64 parts), this is chapter 11 right now. Shout out to everyone who's followed this so far, knowing you love this story as much as I do really keeps me motivated to keep it going. I see every reply, reblog, and like, and it makes me smile.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[jess-the-vampire]

You know it's stuff like this why I partly can't join the owl house fandom. The fandom seems to persnickety about liking certain charactersand headcanons, especially as someone who has dealt with similar shit before in my other fandoms. Granted there are other reasons I hate the fandom, but this is the worst one. It kinda soured the show for me, granted I never cared for it, but they just worsening it for me.

At times like these, i think it's important to remember posts like this

Bigger fandoms, will always end up looking worse by comparison, it's inevitable unfortunately.

For me, this is also unfortunately nothing new, anyone whose been with me since the start knows that.

It was a decade ago, in another fandom, that i was harassed and accused of being homophobic, because i shipped some characters together that wasn't the popular same sex ship.

I shipped plenty of other same sex ships, heck, i considered the characters in question to be bisexual. But that did not stop me from being publicly mocked, harassed, and put on block lists.

I was underage at the time, this was my first fandom experience, and it also soured that fandom for me, even the show itself.

People go into these things, thinking they're protecting people, or helping others.

And on the surface, i could see how one would think that.

But you're really not, people are not that simple, and neither are what they enjoy or are drawn to.

I was a teenager having fun in my own little space, with a ship i knew was noncanon, and it wouldn't of taken much research to find out i had no issue with the lgbt community at all, but no, it was "You are erasing us, you only ship this because you hate gay people, you're a horrible human being and yada yada yada-"

now, a decade later, it's "You are ignoring the poc cast because you're racist, you only like this character and are invested in him because you believe in what he believes in, you're a racist and sexist being for enjoying him and yada yada-"

Look, people do this because they want to protect people who have been screwed for centuries, it's perfectly understandable to worry that people who think belos is a cool character could like him for the wrong reasons. But people who genuinely think this way are a minority, and will be way more outspoken about those beliefs, is the solution here really to go up to anyone who likes something you don't and ruin them without evidence? To accuse them all of horrible beliefs?

this entire belief system removes the possibility of many MANY other reasons people enjoy media, and is straight up jumping to conclusions that if someone doesn't fundamentally agree with what you think, they MUST be a bad person. No critical thinking, no trying to understand others, just straight up assuming things.

Which btw, ironically, is actually acting WAY more like belos then anything the artists doing wittober were actually doing. Even the idea people are making art about his childhood and therefore sympathizing with him falls apart because there have been just as much art about his crimes so far.

Belos is a villain in a cartoon, people have latched onto villain characters since the dawn of time, it's nothing new. If you're going to keep this train of thought going....is disney just bad for their villian brand? are people also horrible for similar reasons if they have a favorite disney villian?

This entire thought process can be applied anywhere if you try hard enough.

Which is the kinda thing that allows actual human beings to be genuinely hurt here.

like are people going to be hurt more because people make aus with belos, or are they going to be hurt more because people who make said aus are accused or being racist people worth scrutinizing?

This thought process also doesn't take into the account of the fact that the people who like belos, might also be lgbt or poc, which....a lot of them are from my experience.

You can't both preach the show's message of accepting people who are different from you, and then also try and justify harassing people because they fandom differently then you. Unless the wittebane people are actively spouting out racist and sexist stuff, they're not doing anything wrong by engaging in the parts of the fandom that interest them.

Not everyone will be drawn to the show for the same reasons, you always gotta remember that, everyone has different favorite characters, different ships, and different things that make them happy.

Fandom is meant to be fun, people make aus because they're fun, they want to play with the media they like and do new things with it.

I strongly doubt everyone who has made an au staring hunter, or belos, or who thinks the wittebanes are interesting, sat down and said "Man, i like this show, but there are too much minorities in it, i hate minorities, i should make an au removing them or draw the wittebanes because they are white".

as a fan of these characters myself, i like them, but don't care too deeply about the blights, other white popular characters. I feel that should imply my investment in them has a lot more to do with other aspects then race.

in fact this makes me wonder if the person complaining in the tags would have the same argument about aus staring eda or amity in the same vain, even though hunter eda and amity are all lgbt, and two are disabled.

If you are doing stuff like this, either don't engage with stuff that doesn't interest you, because it's really weird to be this obsessed with a part of the fandom you don't care about.

or maybe, actually try to understand why people like it, rather then assume it's for the wrong reasons.

just my thoughts.

[the--rebel--fae]

Was wondering if I could get a little something with Angel? A bit angst -> fluff maybe he comes back after a rough fight with val and just starts throwing himself on reader until they get him to talk about it and comfort him by reassuring him that they don’t want him for his body like others do.

Angel doesn’t get enough love on here and I’m done with it😭

Thanks Pookie! Much love!

A/N: Of course you can my dear! I totally agree Angel needs more love! I did it slightly differently but I still incorporated as much of your request as possible. Writing Angel is apparently a lot harder than I thought, but I still loved doing this. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Angel Dust x Reader

TW: A little bit of swearing, angst but then comfort, slightly suggestive--It's Angel Dust that's a given, and small references to abuse.

Word Count: 902

A Hazbin Love

“You know Husk, I knew you were good at creating alcoholic drinks, but,” You took a sip of your coffee and rested a hand on your cheek, enjoying the taste of the rich caffeine as it started to work its way into your system. “This coffee is probably the best I’ve ever had.” 

It was generally pretty quiet in the mornings in the hotel, but you’ve been nursing a rather nasty headache after fighting with your best friend and unfortunately for your heart–crush, Angel Dust

You kept seeing how he was treated by that horrible bastard Valentino day after day; and early this morning after hearing he was going to work, you well… snapped.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you continued your frantic descent down the stairs of the hotel, almost accidentally knocking over Sir Penitous in the process.

“Angel,” you panted, trying to bring breath back into your lungs. “You need to somehow get out of this. I know he owns your soul, but maybe there’s a way–”

Angel Dust whirled on you. A mix of pain and anger on his face. “What? A way out? Hah, Dollface don’t make me laugh. You think if there was a way I wouldn’t have tried?” He ran a hand through his hair, an action you’ve seen him do many times when he was upset and didn’t know how to process his emotions properly. 

You tried to put a comforting hand on Angel Dust’s arm only to have him bat it away. “Look. (Y/n) You’re looking out for me, I get it. Charlie tried this before and it only made it worse. So back off.” Angel Dust sighs and turns to leave but then pauses and glances back at your hurt expression. “Why do you even give a damn anyway? You’ve always stuck your nose up at my work every time I tried to talk ‘bout it.”

You clicked your teeth and balled your hands into fists. “Hah. You know why I cringe every time you talk about your work? Because I see how it destroys you. Every. Time. I’m not some prude like you want to believe Angel. But I’m your best friend and I care about you dammit!”

“Then stop caring!”

“I can’t! You’re my best friend and–and I’m in love with you!”  

You ran your hands through your hair remembering when you yelled that. The second that was out of your mouth you froze and Angel Dust just walked out the door and didn’t say a word.

“Well, I made it strong just for you kid, after that conversation a few hours ago I can tell you needed it.”

You cringe slightly at the reminder of what happened between you and Angel. “Thanks Husk. I-I just hope he doesn’t hate me. I–” you cringed. “I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened.”

“You really think I’d hate ya toots?” A familiar voice that makes your heart twist sounds out just mere feet from you.

You go and glance at Husk, only to see he already made himself scarce. Sneaky bastard, he probably knew Angel was coming over you think. 

Turning in your seat you let out a small gasp seeing the state that Angel Dust is once again in. A light bruise over his left eye, his fur ruffled in various places, but even still, to you, he looks as handsome as ever.

“I-I just thought with the sudden confession,” You trail off, your voice getting caught in your throat.

Angel Dust walks forward and gently wraps you in a hug. “Yea, that surprised the hell outta me but,” Angel Dust chuckled. “To be honest toots, that confession of yours is the only thing that kept me goin’ today.”

Angel Dust picked you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist. “Now I’m gonna show you how much that actually meant to me.”

You bit your lip, as much as you really wanted to see where that takes the two of you, you knew that it was Angel’s way of evading and avoiding any real feelings. You pushed off of him gently and shook your head.

“Angel, I don’t want you to just throw yourself at me and think that I just want a physical relationship. If we are to be in a relationship, I want all of you, not just the physical aspect. I want dates, inside jokes, nights of just cuddling together.”

Angel Dust gave a confused look but then his eyes started watering and he plunked down into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands and his shoulders started to shake. The tears flowed freely now. “I-I want that, I truly do but I just…I don’t know how. Thanks to Val all I know is the physical part. I’m just…broken that way.”

At his words, you felt tears prick in your eyes. You walked around to the front of the chair and rested your head in his lap. “Angel, I’m so sorry you have to go through that. It’s not right. That’s why I was so upset this morning. But you’re not broken. No matter what you think. And I’m here for you. Forever and always.”

Angel whipped away his tears and put a hand on your cheek making you look up at him. “You sure (Y/n)?”

You found yourself leaning into his touch. “Positive.”

Hope you enjoyed love! I always love getting the chance to write for Angel Dust, the man needs more love. So feel free to request for more of him anytime!

And if you guys want even more stories--like maybe your own personalized several-page long one-shots or even a multi-chap fic take a look at my Etsy Shop! I do commissions! I even have listings for Hazbin Hotel!

[belovedmusings]

Take me down slow, control, and abuse me.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part eight of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and he just woke you up in the middle of the night after he heard you having a certain dream about his bandmate, Suguru. This is the subsequent conversation.

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Choso is sweet and loyal, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, cowgirl, riding, nipple play (fem receiving), oral sex (male receiving), soft and tender sex, love bites, creampie

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Use Me (PLAZA), I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys), fue mejor (Kali Uchis, SZA)

A/N: Enjoy ;)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Or read below cut:

His eyes are locked on yours. There’s no vindication—just confusion. You can’t lie to him. It hurts too much to even think about telling this precious man you love an untruth. 

“Choso,” You begin, slicing through the tension-thick air. There’s a lump already forming in your throat, and you brace yourself to lose the man you love. “I…I need to be honest with you.”

Worry instantly etches into his features. “…all right.”

“When I said I just thought he was good-looking, that…that wasn’t the entire truth. I…ever since we met him, I-I’ve been attracted to him but I-I…I love you so much, the guilt is eating me alive.”

It all comes out in a rush, the truth of your feelings, and it takes him a moment to catch up with you to process your words.

He digests the initial part first. “Ever…since we met him? You mean, at my audition?”

You nod shamefully. It’s begun–and you decide now is the best time to just get it all out. There’s no way he’s going to accept everything you’ve done, because you know you wouldn’t, but you just can’t keep hiding things from him. This is the man you love, and what is love without honesty?

After you start, it just pours out of you.

Everything that has happened. Initiating sex in the car after you left his house because he’d turned you on, listening to his voice on repeat through the band’s songs, the fantasizing, the stolen moments that happened in Suguru’s kitchen, then backstage at their concert, then three times again that same night, once at the bar, then in the car, then in your living room after Choso had been carried to bed, then two months later when you brought him back to talk after running into him at the grocery store. All of the forbidden touches, the heated words, the almost-kisses–you spill it all. He deserves to know. He’s too good of a person to be with someone as horrible as you.

By the time you finish, the two of you had sat up in bed, a bedside lamp on to illuminate the room. Sleep is lost on you both now. 

For a while, he just sits there in silence, eyes trained on the foot of the bed. It feels stuffy yet cold, and you wonder if you’ve stopped breathing at some point, waiting for his response. You’re not even sure what you expect. How can anyone possibly react to something like what you just told him?

Your heart drops through you at the first sight of a tear sliding down his cheek. He hasn’t said anything, but it’s clear that he’s hurting. 

What have you done? You were given the most precious boyfriend in the world and you’ve screwed it up by being selfish and undisciplined? 

He parts his lips, searching for the words. They only come after another beat of silence. 

“...all of that…” He begins in a gravelly voice, one you know he uses when he’s holding back his emotions, “and…all I can think about is…I’m in the way of you and him, aren’t I?”

You had no idea what you expected, but that reaction is ten-thousand times worse than anything you could’ve conjured up in your head. 

“No,” Your own voice shakes, you’re hurt because you hurt Choso, “You’re not…you’re not in the way, you’re my boyfriend. I love you.”

“But you want him,” He replies, voice strained. His eyes are still averted from you. “And he wants you. Not just a little, either.”

What argument can you make? You just have to speak from the heart. “Choso, I swear to god, I love you and Suguru hasn’t affected the way I feel about you in the slightest.”

“But I’m not your only option,” He says, monotony terribly forced as more tears stream down his cheeks. “And your other option is Suguru. The guy who is everything I am and more.”

You wonder if the crack you just felt in your heart was audible. “What?”

“He can give you the things I can…and the things I can’t.”

You need to fix this now.

“You’re the man I love,” You say, “Choso, what we have is so special, and–”

“I want what’s best for you,” Choso interrupts you, finally meeting your eyes. They’re glassy and weighted. “I just want you to be happy. He can make you happy.”

“No,” You instantly say, “No, loving you is what makes me happy. Being with you makes me happy. I don’t want to leave you, Choso. I don’t.”

“If you’re happy with me, then why…why do you want Suguru that badly?”

The full truth. What has exactly cemented itself within your soul–you need to bear it to him now. 

“Choso,” You begin, taking his hands and locked eyes with him. “I need you to believe me when I say that I have never ever second-guessed my feelings for you. I know that I am in love with you, and every single moment with you is a blessing that I will forever be grateful for. It’s just that…since I met Suguru, I’ve begun imagining what it would be like with him. Also, not instead. I want you in my life, I want you loving me, I want you to be my boyfriend now and forever, and more if that’s what comes with our future. But I…honestly, I want Suguru there too.”

Choso looks perplexed for a moment, eyes flitting between yours as he once again absorbs all of your words. “...you want him…too?”

Your next nod is earnest yet careful. “Yes. I know it’s ridiculous, selfish, and impossible, but I love and cherish you so much…and I want Suguru. I could never be without you, Chos’, and I sure as hell could never ever replace you with him. I don’t even know if Suguru and I are actually compatible and would go anywhere. Please, believe me.”

He draws in a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that you have to deal with this, and with me,” You add, “And I understand if you want me gone, I know even thinking that is horrible, and I am the worst person on Earth for hurting you.”

“I don’t want you gone,” He immediately says, surprising you thoroughly. 

“What? But I’m…I’m pretty sure all of this qualifies me as some sort of heartless…whore.”

He furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head vehemently. “You are not a whore. Do you go out every time I’m gone and sleep with random men you meet? Do you message more online? Do you send them pictures?”

“N-no, of course not.”

“You’re not a whore,” He says again, sighing heavily. “It’s…this is Suguru we’re talking about. Just Suguru. And this has gone on since we met him, for what…the better half of a year now? More than that? You haven’t even kissed him, let alone slept with him. You just…you just have a lot of affection to give.”

You look down at your lap. “It’s probably just physical, anyway…”

“You said you told him you wanted more, though, after he said that’s what he wants,” Choso points out. “Don’t sugarcoat it for me.”

“No, I-I mean, I’ve barely been around him. Who’s to say it isn’t just lust?” You feel like you’re backtracking, but also like maybe you’re telling the truth. You don’t know anymore. “Maybe I was just caught up in it all when he said it. We could end up not liking each other at all if we really got to know each other…”

After you trail off, no words fill the space between you two for another few moments. 

“So,” he exhales, “You want him…too. In what sense?”

“Well,” You begin unsurely. “I…don’t know.”

“Do you think if you slept with him, your curiosity would go away?”

There’s a seriousness that hangs in the air, one that you can’t help but feel is unwelcome.

“What?”

“I just…don’t see another solution to this. Because I love the band, and Suguru made it clear he wants me to stay. That means that at some point, you two are going to have to be around each other. If you…end up alone, it could mean you two just give in, and none of us want that. Suguru doesn’t want to go behind my back, you don’t want to cheat on me, and I don’t want either of you to betray me.”

“But I still don’t see how the correct solution is for me to sleep with him,” You reply rather bluntly, bewildered.

“Because then I’d know about it,” Choso explains. “I mean, listen…I don’t like the idea of the woman I love sleeping with another man, but this isn’t just some guy, it’s Suguru. I know he’s a good man. I know he respects me. So if I…allowed you to…see what he’s all about, then no one would be lying to anyone. There would be no problem.”

Your eyes narrow. Is your boyfriend seriously suggesting you sleep with Suguru?

“But…what about your feelings? I’d still be…getting intimate with another man. Wouldn’t that bother you?” You question him, running a hand through your hair. 

“It’s not bothering me as much as it should,” He admits, “Because…all this time, all those moments, and neither of you said ‘forget about him’ and did it behind my back. Yes, you two have gotten close, but you’ve stopped yourselves. So…I know you both care about me. It sounds so strange coming from me, but…I’d let you do it, love.”

All you can do is draw in a deep breath. What is he even saying? 

He’s seriously giving you the go-ahead? To sleep with Suguru?

“All I ask is…for you to agree to a few things,” Choso adds, “You’d use protection…and…don’t kiss him.”

Don’t kiss him.

A flash of Suguru’s lip rings comes to mind like the shutter of a camera, and you steel yourself. No kissing him. Something you’d fantasized about for the longest time…barred. 

But he’s letting you sleep with Suguru. 

So what if you can’t kiss him?

“Okay,” You nod, then you hear yourself, and you shake your head, “W-wait, no, Choso, I can’t do this to you. You can’t be okay with this!”

“But I am,” He insists, reaching up and touching your face. There is only a gentleness in his eyes, no hint of anger or animosity towards you in them. “I love you, and I want to give you the world. If I can give you this by simply allowing you, I will.”

“But it’s sex,” You argue, “For crying out loud, Choso, how can you be okay with this? I’d never be okay if you wanted to sleep with another woman!”

“That’s okay,” He assures you, “It is sex, and to the two of us it means something different. For me, it’s exclusive. For you, it's an expression. I don’t like sleeping with anyone I’m not in love with, but for you, it’s more about who you find attractive. I trust you. I know you’ll never leave me, you’ve made that clear. If, throughout this entire thing, you’ve fantasized about Suguru yet never resented me or started finding faults in me, wishing I was him…I know you love me.”

“I do,” is what you reply with immediately. “I love you so much, Chos’.”

“See? I trust you,” He repeats. “If you wanted to cheat you’d have done so by now.”

For a while, you just remain silent.

Is he really giving you a pass? To have sex with Suguru? Just like that?

“Will you look at me differently? And him?” You ask, searching his eyes with yours.

“You’re always going to be the woman I love,” Choso shakes his head. “And he’s always going to be Suguru.”

“What about when we’re all together? When you’re in the same room as me and him? Will you be able to take it?”

Choso consider your words for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I will. Things will probably be less tense now that it’s out in the open, don’t you think?”

“…well, possibly, yes.”

There is about a full minute of absolutely no sound in the room. You don’t know what to say. You weren’t expecting a full fight, because you know that’s not what Choso is about, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting this either. How are you supposed to react?

Choso has given you his permission to sleep with Suguru. You can actually do what you’ve been wanting to do–well, mostly–and more than anything, right now you’re just feeling…weird. 

“Chos’, I…I don’t know what to say…”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to. We’ve talked it over and said everything we need to say.”

Well, he’s right. You’ve asked about his feelings, about his reaction, he knows the dirty details of your thoughts…and this is the end result. The boyfriend you have been in love with since before this entire mess has started still loves you even after everything you’ve considered doing, and everything you’ve done, and what’s more is that he is green-lighting even more that you never thought he’d be okay with.

Your eyes happen upon him, and you really take him in. The way his layered hair falls in messy strands around his face, the soft droop of his chocolate eyes, smeared with his trademark purple eyeliner. You follow the shape of his jaw, the curve of his Adam’s apple down to his neck, further to the collar of his shirt, where you remember he has that tattoo of your name on his heart. More than ever now, you understand that he’d gotten that done with utmost sincerity. So much emotion sweeps over you in a tidal wave–you love your boyfriend so much, and you’re sorry he’s even in this position, whether he’s okay with it or not. 

There isn’t much time between after you’ve had that thought and when you climb into his lap, kissing him in a way that you hope conveys everything you’re feeling for him at the moment. 

Choso responds eagerly, and soon layers come off, the black ink of your name etched into his breast on full display. It’s a lot of touching and grinding–you try to knead your affection into him with your hands and the way you move your hips on his, feeling him getting hard beneath you, your lips reaching any expanse of skin of his that they can reach. 

You kiss down his frame, paying special attention to the delicate part of his neck where it meets his shoulder and leaving a mark there. It’s easy to elicit noises from him, soft and breathy in nature, and you keep going, leaving a path of claims as you devour his body slowly.

Soon, you wind up between his legs, face beside his stiff length, but before you pay it any mind, you give attention to his thighs, a place you know is particularly sensitive. That’s when the sounds leaving his lips become more pronounced, abdomen rising and falling with each new mark you bite into the flesh there.

By the time you take him into your mouth, his cock is maroon-hard and weeping, the bitterness mixing with the flavor of his musk. The both of you moan at the same time, and his hands thread into your hair, gently holding it back as you suck, rising and sinking down on him over and over in the way you know drives him mad. His noises string together, strained groans and soft whimpers mixing to create a beautiful enough symphony that even that itself is music he creates. His thumbs caress your cheeks and you feel his eyes admiring you as you suck him off, a rosy blush spreading over your face.

When he’s good and soaked, and when he’s near his peak, twitching on your tongue with the threat of release, you pull off, looking up at him.

His eyebrows are drawn up, hair messily splayed across his pillow from his writhing, a crimson over the bridge of his nose. He’s panting, chest rising and falling rigidly, deep exhales painting the air.

“You’re so beautiful,” You tell him breathlessly, climbing back up his now mark-ridden body, straddling his hips with your legs. You take him into your hand and guide him towards your heat, allowing it inside as you seat yourself down.

“Oh, fuck,” He grunts, hands finding your waist instinctively. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, having been edged already, and you know it won’t take him long to reach his peak. 

He knows this, and so when you start rolling your hips, keeping him fully inside, he begins roaming his palms over your skin, doing his best to bring you to the edge as well. The two of you move in a way that can only be disguised as a sensual, intimate dance. His hands find your breasts, teasing your nipples with the pads of his thumbs, then running a palm down your front until he finds your clit. He starts rubbing it to the tempo of your movements, and little gasps leave your mouth, spurring on more impassioned grinds from you.

You look down at him, staring up at you with reverent, lidded eyes, and you know that no matter what you do with Suguru, it can never replace what you have with Choso. 

“I love you,” You murmur, leaning down and initiating a hungry kiss. 

He returns it with fervor, speaking into your wet cavern with a reciprocal, “I love you,” before chasing it down with his tongue. He starts meeting your movements with his own, intensity increasing until soon he’s moaning down your throat and cumming deep inside, your own orgasm rippling through you at the same time.

He holds you close and you don’t stop showering him with your love, intent on making sure he knows how much he means to you.

What comes next can wait until tomorrow.

__

a/n: you get to have your cake and eat it too in this universe, mmm hmm, mm hmm. now...what will happen next?

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

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[ninyard]

how long do you think Kevin took to grieve riko fully ? Did he stop grieving jm public or in front of the foxes because they couldn't understand it or

Oh. Oh I don't think Kevin ever got to fully grieve. I've probably talked about something similar before but no, I don't think so. Not in front of the foxes, anyway. I think there were glimpses, maybe, moments where he broke and couldn't keep it in for just a second or two at a time. But he'd hide it well until he was alone.

Then there's David and Kevin, back in an almost empty hotel bar, black suits on and several drinks deep, and Kevin's been silent for a couple of minutes.

"You can cry," David says, and Kevin just looks at him, breathing like it's the only thing worth focusing on, like if his mind slips for just a millisecond he'll self destruct. "I promise it won't make how he treated you suddenly okay."

Maybe David tells him a story about his parents death - how he struggled with his grief, grief that came in short and intense and incomprehensible bursts. Grief that didn't make sense. Grief that felt shameful, or guilt-filled, or grief that felt like it didn't deserve to be felt. Maybe Kevin doesn't say anything for a little while longer, or maybe he starts to tell a story. It's hard for David not to feel disgusted, knowing what he did to him, listening to a fond memory of two 10 year old boys who just wanted to be famous, as if that was all that Riko was. As if this one memory, these two or three memories, were who Riko really was, as if it was who he could've remained to be. But I think maybe David puts the stories he already knows aside to give Kevin the space to feel these confusing and guilty and shameful feelings of being nostalgic and wistful for the man who almost killed him.

I think Kevin shares his grief in secret for that one night, a closed casket freshly burned into his brain, a rest in peace winning over a rot in hell. Just for one day, at least.

Maybe he shares his grief with Bee - again, that horrible, conflicting feeling of I know how bad he was to me and I know how he treated me. But I miss who he used to be. And maybe I don't think he deserved to die.

But maybe even still, with David, with Bee, he holds himself back. He can't let himself grieve how he needs to grieve because he just can't. He can't let himself think, "I miss him," when he hadn't thought that for a very, very long time, and only feels it now in fleeting moments after his death. He can't let himself believe, "I'm sad that he's dead," when he silently wished it upon him every time his healed hand cramped or hurt, every time the remembered pain flooded his fingers when he moved a certain way.

Kevin's grief with Riko is complicated. That was his brother. His first friend. His first abuser, his worst abuser. That was the person who ruined his life, that was the person who pushed him to be better and better until better became best. That was the person who nearly killed him, the person who held his opinion with such high regard it was deadly. How do you grieve someone that you were scared of, when death makes you think of all the times he swore he was keeping you safe? Or at least, pretended he was. Or at least, did so for his own personal gain. How does he grieve someone who everyones sees as a monster, who he sees as a monster, but who smiled a pre-teen grin his way and said it's you and me against the world.

I don't think anyone would understand. Or, he thinks so, anyway. He doesn't think anyone will get it. He doesn't think it makes sense, or that it's okay, or that he's allowed to feel these conflicting feelings about him. I think Kevin grieves on his own, and that makes it worse, in some ways. It makes it a much longer process to work through. It makes it a long time until he is able to come to terms with it all.

[squinch-depraved]

plllsssss write more for that virgin au i fell in love with it!! i would love to read about schlatt finding out about charlie by accident

ok here's how schlatt finds out about what went down between you and charlie, v short just to get us to the next part where our boy teddy gets to have some fun so stay tuned for that :3

charlie is just. unable to look schlatt in the eyes.

like, he feels so guilty.

even though he didn't technically do anything wrong, charlie feels horrible for breaking down and asking you to sleep with him

and he's got a few hickeys visible, despite his best efforts at covering them up

so ted's all, "ooh, someone got some this weekend!"

and he tries to get charlie to open up about it

but he just mumbles something about not wanting to talk about it and moves on

schlatt flags this as weird, but ted just shrugs and says charlie doesn't have to talk about it if he doesn't want to

but schlatt just can't move on from it.

charlie looks guilty.

he never looks guilty.

what did he do?

schlatt has to figure it out; he's got this feeling in his gut that something's wrong about the whole situation

but he just keeps studying, waiting to see if he can gather any extra information

and he does.

charlie makes the mistake of leaving his phone out, face up, when he goes to talk to a friend about something that happened in one of their classes

a text from you lights up the screen, and ted, sitting next to charlie, reads it first

for schlatt, the phone is upside down, so it takes him a minute

but once he processes your message, he's piecing it together in his mind and his blood runs hot

"'i'm not going to be the one to tell him. you're the one who begged for it, you have to explain to him what we did.'"

he repeats the message out loud once more and slams his books closed, shoving his things into his bag and furiously slinging it over his shoulder

"dude, you aren't even together, you can't control them," ted reasons, trying to salvage the hangout

charlie saunters back over, face falling once he checks his phone and sees schlatt towering over the table with a scowl on his face

"hope it was worth it, man," he mutters, voice laced with anger

"i- i didn't mean to hurt-"

"doesn't matter. i'll see you guys later," schlatt spits out, stalking away from the table and slamming through the library doors

it's silent for a bit before ted speaks

"he'll get over it. give him some time."

"...i hope so."

"he will, he just needs time to realize he doesn't have any say in what y/n does and he'll be over it like that."

ted snaps his fingers with the last word and receives a shhh from an attendant shelving books nearby

"maybe. he really likes them, though. i think i might have actually fucked up this time, ted. it was incredible, but i don't know if it was worth losing schlatt's friendship."

charlie runs a hand through his hair and blows out a frustrated exhale

"maybe he would be less mad if i slept with them too?" ted asks, more wondering aloud to himself than anything

"because then he would have to be mad at both of us," he says as he works through his thought

"and then you wouldn't feel as bad about being the only one to do it!"

charlie just stares at him for a bit

"are you fucking serious, dude? you're gonna make it that much worse?"

"look, man, if i sleep with her, and tell him, he'll be mad at me too, thus taking some of the blame off you. do you see what i'm getting at?"

"yes, dude, i see what you're getting at, but it's a shitty plan and he's just gonna kill both of us."

"...we shall see," ted answers with a sense of finality, grinning as he packs up his stuff

"i'll let you know how it goes." he smirks down at charlie one last time before pulling his phone out of his pocket to check it

"you're an idiot!" charlie whisper-yells as ted struts away

but ted just raises one hand, middle finger sticking up, and exits the library, determined to get in on the bliss that his best friends had experienced so he would no longer be the only virgin in the group

he's humiliated that he's the last one left, but a trip to your apartment will surely change that

so he takes a deep breath, adjusts his bag, and walks to the side of campus that your home's on, excited to see how this whole situation will unfold