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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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birds of prey (one shot)

2600 words, dark RAIDER!tommy x f!reader

Summary: Tommy recently joined the raiding group that killed everyone in your family. When the group comes back to claim the house for their own use, he finds you in the basement. A/N: This is a DIFFERENT READER, not joel's reader. I wanna introduce raider!Tommy before raider joel crosses paths with him (we're not there yet). THANK YOU @dark-scape for the group name, symbol, and soundboard. Also to @romanarose for requesting Tommy in raider!Joel. WARNINGS!!: I8+ mdni, extremely dubious consent unsafe P in V and oral M receiving, dirty talk, pet names, dark/toxic affection- do not be fooled, degradation. NO USE OF Y/N.

The raiders first came a week ago and killed everyone but you–they never found you in the basement. They took everything they could use, so you aren't sure why they're back, but in your gut you know it's them when you hear the tires on gravel. You make your way down to the basement again. The entry is through a closet floor and it looks like more of a crawl space until you climb down into it. You told everyone it’d be safest there, but they thought if they begged for their lives and let them take everything, the men might be reasonable.

The short, dirty window at the top of the wall is open and their voices make your stomach turn.

"Den's big enough, got a kitchen 'n all. Hell, wood's already chopped." They laugh and the door handle jiggles. "Locked?"

"What? Y'all lock it when ya left?"

"Didn't think so."

They bust down the door.

"So this is it," a new voice announces calmly. "The new nest."

Someone corrects him, "That's lame, man. You don't gotta call it that when he's not around."

"Takes this Birds of Prey shit too literally," another man agrees.

They start showing the new guy around.

One of the men asks, "think the big guy'll like it?"

After a moment of silence, someone says "let's talk about the big guy. " It sounds like they're planning a coup. They agree to find somewhere in the house to hide the loot and leave one man behind to guard it overnight. They break up to look for a hiding place.

—-

Inevitably, the door to your space opens. "Crawlspace," the new voice says. Then he steps down. It’s just him. He hunches over and walks until the ceiling is higher. You're huddled in the corner under a desk. He scuffs his boot on the ground and a huge layer of dust gets kicked up. He looks around for a minute and says "alright, alright," to himself. You can only see his boots. Your nose tickles from the dust and you're trying to stave off a sneeze. When his boots turn back toward the door, You're relieved. But you can't keep the tickle at bay. You squeak ever so quietly into your shoulder, then the boots turn in your direction.

Your heart goes to your throat as the man slowly crouches down. Mustache, long, dark hair, denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Heavily tattooed, though you can’t make anything out. He raises his eyebrows and his lips purse in bemusement. He clasps his large hands and says “Well hey there,” like he’s speaking to a child.

You’re silent.

“What are ya doin’ down here?”

“It’s my house,” you say.

He nods thoughtfully and his brows knit apologetically, but his voice doesn’t match. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says ominously. “My friends said it’s our house, now.” He frowns exaggeratedly.

Your eyes sting with the dusty air and you realize you’ve had your eyes wide and not blinked this entire time.

"MILLER WHERE THE HELL ARE YA," someone yells.

He sighs and stands up.

“Don’t tell them,” you beg.

“Why wouldn’t I,” he asks, still standing up, out of view.

“I’ll do anything,” you say.

“Anything,” he repeats, then sighs. “Wouldn’t’ve taken ya for that kinda girl. Looked like an angel to me.”

“MILLER!!!!”

“Please,” you beg.

“We’ll see,” he says curtly then turns around and leaves. When he gets up the stairs and opens the door, he announces he found a crawlspace that’ll work.

—----

They unload the stuff, then someone asks, “Who’s stayin’?”

“New guy,” someone says.

“Can ya handle it, Miller?” another voice asks. “Place like this might get spooky at night.”

The men chuckle.

“I’m good,” Miller says.

“That’s the spirit, Tommy boy.”

“See ya tomorrow.”

—

Tommy starts bringing crates down, and the men get ready to leave. They continue to talk amongst themselves upstairs on their way out. Tommy crouches down to look at you, a little closer this time, about two meters away. He smiles at you then sits on the floor with his hands behind him, not saying anything. As the men leave, you both overhear their crude banter. Tommy looks at the window as he listens.

"Think she's ready for more?"

"I call back door first." Your heart drops thinking about whoever’s waiting for them back where they came from.

"Shit, you can have it. D'ya see the lips on her?" There’s no way she’s willingly waiting for this disgusting group of men.

"I wanna see what Tommy boy can do to that pussy."

“Not tonight!” one says and they laugh.

"He doesn't have it in'm," another one says.

Tommy seems to bristle at this. Then he dons a subtle smirk, looks at you, and slowly sucks in air though his teeth like he's breaking some bad news. "'m afraid I do," he nods. "Just don’t like sharin’." He sighs. His nose twitches and you don’t like it. He’s pensive, like he has something to prove. He says, “Hope they don’t do ya like that once they find ya.”

You hug your knees and bury your head to cry. “What do you want,” you ask.

“Why don’t ya come on out for a start.”

You look at him. He’s not moving from his position. He nods toward the wall as though to give you permission to sit away from him. He watches you like a hawk as you slowly crawl, still sniffling, and you sit against the wall with your legs out.

“Good girl,” he says gently, then begins to get up. You flinch when he stands, but he takes the chair from the desk and turns it to face you. He sits in it, only about a meter away now. At this distance, you can see his freckles and the sparkle in his eyes and you hate to admit it, but he’s pretty good looking. You look at each other for a few seconds. Apparently he’s thinking the same thing. “Pretty, too. Aren’t ya, angel?”

He leans back and his chest puffs out as he takes off his denim jacket. “Too hot for this,” he mutters and throws it onto the desk. His t-shirt lets you see how strong his chest and arms are as he settles back into the chair and manspreads with his hands on his thighs. One of his hands has a fresh tattoo of a talon on it. His jeans are ripped below the one knee. “So you’ll do anything, huh,” he says contemplatively. He smooths his hair and looks at the window, then around the room. “Guess I’ve got all night to find out what that means.”

You consider your options. If he really doesn’t like sharing, giving yourself to him is your best shot at staying secret from the other men.

“Can I have some water,” you ask.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, what else ya want? A cheeseburger?” He sighs, braces his hands on his knees, and leaves. He doesn’t come back for hours.

You’re tired. So tired. It’s been the worst week of your life, and that’s saying a hell of a lot. You’re too tired to fight, too tired to even care what he might do to you. You fall asleep.

—--------

You wake up to the sound of boots thudding down the stairs. It’s dark out now. “Got lost, sorry,” he booms. He’s carrying a short crate that has a lantern, a jug of water, a bottle of whiskey, and some jerky. He sets the crate down on the desk. He puts the water jug next to your feet, and he lingers. He squats down and caresses your cheek with his knuckle. You smell his sweat and you smell he’s been drinking. His lips part as he looks at you, and you try to ignore the sparkle in his eyes in the lamp light. He’s sweaty, and his masculine smell makes you tingle. He offers you some jerky with a little smile but you say, “no thank you.”

“Those manners,” he whispers with a smile. His mustache twitches charmingly. He takes off his boots and sits next to you on the wall and his large hand engulfs your thigh. He wets his lips and looks at you. “What are we gonna do?” he asks softly.

“Just tell me what you want,” you whine.

He shakes his head no. “I wanna know what you want.”

“I wanna live, I wanna not be gang banged, I want my family back, I want-” you start to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says. He reaches for you and you flinch, but he gets up on his knees and forces you into a consoling embrace. You cry into his shirt and he says “Shhhhh, shhhhhh.” He pats your head. “You’re not gonna get gang banged if you’re mine, I promise.”

The most unsettling mix of relief and dread floods your upper body. Your lower body, meanwhile, is all warmth and tingling. Oh, god. He hugs you into his hair which smells like cigarettes, campfire, and something sour. “C’mere,” he says, and uses your hair to pull your head back slightly, gently. Enough to look at your face.

----

He dips his head, and at first all you can do is watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows. But then his face drifts toward yours, and you tense in anticipation. He closes his eyes and kisses you. His lips are plush and gentle. Your lips remain firm and still until they don’t. When his tongue brushes the seam of your lips, they let him in. Your mouths are connected for a good thirty seconds before he breaks the kiss and looks at you. Then he wraps his hands around your back and lifts you up onto your knees so you’re both kneeling on the cold concrete as he licks into your mouth. He wraps his arms around you tight and attacks your mouth with his again, with more fervor this time, his suction making your lips tingle.

His cock hardens against you. He breaks the kiss and takes a deep breath against the side of your mouth. He grabs your ass and pulls you into him, pressing his hardness into you. He sighs.

Then he lets go of your ass and his hands come between you. He urgently unbuttons and unzips your jeans, then pulls them down. You feel like there’s no stopping what’s about to happen, so you obediently take them off as he removes his own without taking his eyes off you. “Those too,” he nods at your panties. As you remove them, the damp cotton is cool against your inner thigh and you realize how wet you are. Warmth rushes to your face.

----

“C’mere, angel,” he whispers, and he sits down in his boxers. He pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him, hovering, at first. He reaches between your legs and groans as his fingers meet your wetness. He gazes at you with wonder in his eyes. “Beautiful girl.” He looks down and watches his hand as he slides his fingers through your folds, front and back. His strong chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. He pulls you by the ass, grinding your crotch into the massive tent in his boxers and the contact makes you twitch. “Fuck,” he sighs when your loins are pressed up against each other. He makes space to get his cock out and you try not to stare. It’s thick. Suddenly, you’re salivating. You wet your lips and he notices.

“Lemme put it here, first,” he says softly and rubs your cunt. “Okay?” He nods for you as he positions you over his cock and notches himself for entry. He’s waiting for your go-ahead like it means something. You offer an almost imperceptible nod, then he pulls you down hard on his cock with a groan. You gasp as his girth parts your walls.

“Then—ohhh—then ya can suck it,” he says. He lifts his hips. “Maybe.” He moves you on his cock. “Shit this feels good.” He holds you close and wraps an arm around you. He moves his hips forward from the wall with a sharp thrust up into you. He gets enough space to lean back a little and pull you against his chest for leverage, with enough clearance to fuck up into you. “Yeah, ohh shit.” As your body adjusts to his girth, your eyes close in pleasure. His thrusts are sharp and deep. He’s strong, so strong the way he holds you. Tension knots in your gut as his girth fills you up over and over.

“Ride it, baby. C’mere.” He sits back down flatter against the wall again and manhandles you on his cock. “C’mon, baby.” You might as well get something out of it, so you move your hips and get close enough to him to grind your clit into his pelvis. “Aww, yeah,” he breathes, “Yeahh, like that.” He reaches for your head. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he whispers, then pulls your face into his again. His hips rock in rhythm with yours as he fills your mouth with his tongue.

You accidentally hum “Mmm” into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to say “oh you like it, huh,” pounding into you a little harder. “You like this big cock.” Each time he fills you, you’re less and less ready for this to end. “That’s good,” he rubs his nose against your temple. “gonna get a lot of it.” He holds the back of your head and reads your eyes in the dim lamp light then kisses you again. You break the kiss with a moan, feeling yourself on the edge.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Shit yeah,” He puts both his hands on your ass and moves you on his cock, determined to fill you with every smidgen of him.

You whimper at the stretch, the sheer fullness.

“You’re there,” he says. “C’mon, baby,” his thick cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you, filling you like you thought you might never be filled, “C’mon, angel. C’mon.” The tension snaps and you groan as your cunt spasms around his cock. “Ohhh, yeahhh, yeahhh,” Tommy says, “shit, yeah.” Your body jerks into his. “Fuckin’ beautiful."

He slows you down and sucks in a deep breath as you keep spasming. “Shit,” he sighs. He stops moving and tries to compose himself. He’s trying not to come. He pulls you off before you’re finished coming. You look at him and he’s biting his lip, his eyes are smiling, his hand is wrapped around his cock. “Now suck it for me.” He reaches up and his huge hand engulfs the back of your head. “Now,” he says more urgently. He pulls down and you oblige, reeling in aftershocks and shame.

You take his tip in your mouth and his hips lift as you suck it. He forces your head down on his cock and you gag on it. “Ohh, shit.” He pulls your head down harder then explodes against the back of your throat with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. His hot spend paints the back of your throat. You swallow it then let him slide out of your mouth.

—--

Tommy catches his breath for a moment, then puts his dick away and gets up to put on his pants. It feels abrupt, but you’re not sure what you expected. Surely not pillow talk. He towers over you as he zips up. You look up at him and he tilts his head, looking at you affectionately. Then his face changes.

“Dumb slut.”

Your stomach drops as he walks away.

-------

--------

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! You can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for updates.

Joel and Tommy are not in touch. When they cross paths it will have been a long time since they saw each other.

This reader will be Tommy's and he'll gain some power in the group.

#dark!tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #raider!tommy miller #tommy miller #tommy miller smut #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller fic #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!tommy

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yokohamapound · 2 months ago

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BSD Characters React to Getting Shat On By A Bird 🕊️

No, I'm totally not writing these to make myself feel better after getting bird-splattered on my way home from work. T-T

Characters: Osamu Dazai, Nakahara Chuuya, Kunikida Doppo, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi, Sigma

Contents: 💩

Osamu Dazai

Dazai might react in one of two ways.

If he's on his own, it's a muted, annoyed kind of disgust. He just feels the impact and sighs.

"Ugh, really?"

He might shove his head into the Yokohama river to try and wash it out. Whether or not he remembers to pull his head up again is another story.

If he's around other people, however, Dazai hams it up more than a pig in a blanket.

His whole body clenches, his shoulders hunching toward his ears and his hands hovering near his hair but not quite touching it. His face is an exaggerated rictus of disgust.

"Get it off, get it off, get it off! Eww!"

He runs at Kunikida and tries to wipe it off on him, only to get himself punted across the room. That isn't enough to stop Dazai, though. He'll theatrically pour water over himself, retching, gagging, and bemoaning his bad luck and the cruel fates for doing this to him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Thankfully, Chuuya's lovely red hair is safe from the bird shit thanks to his hat, but on the other hand, his hat. He freezes as soon as he feels the splatter against his hat. Reaching up slowly, he takes the brim of his hat between thumb and forefinger and lifts it off his head.

Chuuya's face contorts with anger and disgust. There's shit on his hat. There's shit on his hat.

He resists the urge to drop the hat in disgust, since that might damage it further. Instead his ire snaps upward toward the bird that just ass-bombed him. Little does it know that its victim is not bound by the laws of gravity. Chuuya can follow it.

And that he fucking does.

He shoots into the air, cracking the asphalt underfoot, and goes gunning after the hapless bird, which is probably terrified to find a pissed-off ginger zooming after it at mach speeds.

Later, once the bird is 'taken care of' Mafia-style, Chuuya will take his soiled hat to a specialist cleaning place. Yes, he's got a hat cleaning place—this is Chuuya we're talking about.

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida does not have time for this. Perhaps it is a personal failing, but he didn't account for the potential of being shat on by a bird en route to the office in the morning. Now he's standing there with egg on his face and crap on his hair, regretting his life choices.

Frustration builds in him like a volcano, but he forces himself to take a deep breath. As long as he is calm and rational about this, it should not impact his precious schedule too much.

Thankfully, he does have all manner of supplies to hand. Namely a water bottle and a handkerchief to try and clean himself off as best he can in the nearest reflective surface. He uses his handy dandy notebook to conjure up a solid shampoo bar and cleans himself up.

All in all, he only ends up being three minutes, thirty-seven seconds late to the office. No one even notices, but Kunikida is left irked for the rest of the day. Also, he doesn't know how but he's sure Dazai is behind it somehow. Maybe he's been teaching the birds how to target blonde men with glasses, preparing months in advance for just this day.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Akutagawa goes still, and his eyes go very, very wide, until you feel like you're staring down tunnels into the Abyss. The bird guano is stark white against his dark hair. His nostrils flare.

"RASHOUMON."

A tendril of darkness slices from the back of his coat and slashes the bird in midair, sending feathers spiralling down to dust the earth around him.

He stares down at the offending creature's carcass like an god of dark justice.

"Foul beast."

Growing up in the slums, Akutagawa was used to being dirty, covered in mud, blood, and all kinds of filth, but he will not take the disrespect of any man nor beast, least of all a pigeon.

Nakajima Atsushi

This is not the first time for poor, unfortunate Atsushi, and probably not the last. He flinches when the splatter lands on top of his head, automatically closing his eyes. He's used to being spat on or having food poured over his head.

"Ah, jeez."

At least the bird crap isn't personal.

Atsushi probably just snips off the locks of befouled hair and then scrubs his hands. His hair is already a tufty mess, and he's usually too busy running around for the Agency to run home and shower again. That is, until Kunikida hears what happens and sprays him with disinfectant.

Sigma

Poor Sigma. Doesn't he have enough on his plate without being target practice for a bird who doesn't eat enough fibre? He's under enough stress already.

The bird shit is the tipping point, and he might just cry.

His face twitches when he feels it. The cold dollop on his head, ruining his pretty hair, making his neck want to retract back into his spine. His eyes widen as he looks upward to see the feckless offender flying away, soon lost to the horizon as it flies beyond the reach of the Sky Casino.

Sigma gags, his hands fluttering a little as he doesn't know what to do. He's only three years old and this has never happened to him before.

He runs toward his private quarters, lest anyone see the General Manager looking so undignified. He flings himself into his bathroom and sticks his head directly under the shower, running the water as hot as he can stand.

He washes it twice. Thrice. Then wraps it in a hair mask and huddles in his quarters with a stiff drink and his hair in a towel. Poor thing.

#yokohamapound #bsd #bsd headcanons #Dazai Osamu #Nakahara Chuuya #Kunikida Doppo #akutagawa ryuunosuke #nakajima atsushi #sigma bsd #this is stupid and no one asked for it but here ya go

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marchsfreakshow · 1 year ago

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Poems - Sea Salt [JPM x reader]

I fucking love this gif so much He's so fucking handsome.

I may make more cause i like showing my poems to y'all this way.

This may be considered a continuation of the first one.

Main warning!: Suicide mentions.

Extra warning: fluffy to all hells and puppy nickname (Ik some people are weird about that)

James' perspective (I'm sorry in advance)

~~~~~~~~~

I had walked past the empty bar and spotted a notepad out of the corner of my eye. It distracted me, so I turned around and looked at the open page. There was another poem by my Y/N, it was less scribbly and more professional looking. I wondered if they had been able to get a job writing poems. Either way, they were divine poems in my eyes, whether they agreed or not. The yellow pages almost blended into the bar table, like no one had seen it before. My thoughts took over me, wondering what it was about, I hadn't read it correctly, just skimming over the words.

The title captived me though. "Sea Salt." Footsteps stopped immediately once I said the title, I couldn't tell who they were though, footsteps come past me every day. "Shit..." It was Y/N, the voice confirmed it. Her worry sounded genuine, but I paid no mind to it. They had no reason to worry, so I stood up and smiled widely at them. "Can I read this poem my sweet bird? I want to know what it is by this title."

"It's..just..about the sea. Wrote it when I thought of the beach." They mentioned nonchalantly. It confused me, there must be more to it, I saw hints of suicide when I skimmed through it. "You miss a lot of things when you're dead and stuck in one place." That came out more as a mutter, so I simply nodded in response, wanting them to go on about the poem idea. I loved hearing their voice, it filled me with satisfaction I don't believe murder could top. Killing is genuinely an excellent way to pass the time, however, I suppose for Y/N it was writing or drawing.

"I must be boring you darling I'm sorry." They sighed, but I shushed them quickly and tightly wrapped my arms around them.

"You are never boring my sweet. Will you allow me to read it? Having a fresh pair of eyes can help you." Although it made me sad, the thought of ending one's own life is taught in a poem. But, staring into Y/N's eyes, I hoped they would allow me, giving them confidence about their writings. In the right hands, poems and stories can be wonderful things, and my little bird's work indeed was beautiful, even more so if they're reading it out loud.

Y/N reached behind me and picked up the pad, facing the page to me and hiding their own face. Taking it out of their hands, I started to read, already entranced by their handwriting. "Well, this is it. Im staring down at the water. It's lifting its head up to meet me. Why would you bend me this way? Leaving a beach with shells, crabs, and seas as friends." I took a breath after the first verse, thinking about how Y/N would often tell me family stories whenever they went to the beach. Whether it was a vacation or a sunny day in the hot summer, their family would take them, and make sure everyone saw how the sun's reflections made the water glisten like a sparkling diamond, or the sparkle in their beautiful eyes, which I could forever get lost in.

"James, how do you make my shitty poems sound so, alluring?" I was still holding onto their waist, their voice muffled due to my shoulder now being a pillow. A chuckle escaped my lips as I gave them a glance, reaching over to give y/n a kiss on their pretty little head.

"The air wasn't as crisp as it used to be. It became warm while I leaned in closer to my friend. It was panicking."

"It didn't know what to do. It couldn't help. It could only let the sea hold me up. But that is just a fantasy. A fantasy of the sea. Smelling the salts on the rocks, I opened my arms and let the sea take me away." Y/N finished, still not looking up from my shoulder. As soon as they did, I put the notepad down, picked Y/N up, and put them on the bartop, not caring what anyone else thought. A blush brushed their gorgeous face, now making eye contact with me.

"who's 'it' puppy?" While I only called them puppy when we were having intercourse, I had to get their attention so they could explain. My hands caressed Y/N's sides, gently, I hate letting go of them. I could have sworn I saw their blush deepen when I said their nickname. But the darkness of the bar did not help me in the slightest. Only light enough so I could read the words on the tinged page. Black on a mute yellow, the black was enhanced, like how Y/N's soft lips were enhanced the moment they licked their lips subconsciously. "Well?" I mentioned quietly, giving them a smile again. Their roaming hands mimicked mine, teasing me at the wrong time. Distracted or not, I would get an explanation out of my pretty puppy.

" 'It' is the sea animals mentioned earlier. They can't do anything about me wanting to fall to my death." Giggles escaped their lips as a concern spread over my own face. Immediately, I hoped this wasn't recounting a genuine attempt at something so foolish, and their giggles worried me more and more. especially since they were now avoiding my harsh gaze, eyebrows furrowed in worry and anger. Soon enough, they noticed my concern and stopped, letting me lean on one of their hands. A heavy sigh left their sensual lips, avoiding the gaze I was giving them. "Dad died on one of our trips. He was my best friend.."

"Oh, my pretty girl..." I exclaimed, promptly holding them close to my own cold body. "My love you should have never considered ending your life because of your father's death. Would he want you to carry on your life?" Their sobs were quiet but apparent, so I gave them a kiss on each of their cheeks and wiped away the tears with the pad of my thumb.

I held them close, letting them cry until I picked them up again, and walked them to our shared room. Gently, I placed them on the bed, being delicate with them still. Y/N's sobs and cries stopped, and I lay next to them, hushing them still and kissing their forehead occasionally. "I love you my pretty bird, don't worry about your wonderful little head about the memories," I spoke, but in a hushed whisper. They fell asleep, so I kept a hand on their hand and soon fell asleep after they did so.

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beangirl73047 · 3 months ago

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BNHA/MHA Fic Recs

Lessons Learned

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack. Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out. --------------- Aka: Best Jeanist Acquires A Son. Featuring: Serious talks regarding abuse and emotional scars, one adult finally stepping the hell up and trying to help Katsuki, me going off about the sports festival because I'm still not over it, pro-heros having a group chat, and Katsuki finally getting a chance to learn how to be good.

throw me a goddamn rope - just enough to hang myself with

Shouta’s plan had been ill-defined and desperate from the start, but he figures the important shit boiled down to, “Change as little as possible, make sure Midoriya doesn’t get himself killed, and stock up on lychee jelly pouches because that flavor got discontinued three years from now.” Keeping it simple’s always better, and he’s normally good at improvising.

Somewhere along the way, he must’ve fucked up since now he has:

A quirkless problem child hanging off of his every word

His best friend going through a sexuality crisis thanks to said problem child’s mom

His other best friend clinging to him like a security blanket

Some two-bit mob boss threatening him with bouquets of daffodils

To wring the number one hero’s fucking neck for not telling him anything useful before sending him decades into the past

All he did was walk Izuku Midoriya home. It wasn’t meant to turn into whatever mess this is.

landscape after cruelty

“Bakugo, you need to update your costume.” Kirishima said, “There’s this one dude in the support class- he’s got a literal waiting list, that’s how good he is- but he did my new upgrade."

“Yeah,” Bakugo sighs and leans back on his hands, staring at the bracer. “I know. I’ll go,” his mouth twists a little. “I’ll go tomorrow. This is just- this is my design you know?” he’s not explaining himself very well, and refuses to look at Kirishima.

“It can be hard to give up your first hero design, and you did a great job,” Kirishima said. “You definitely had the best one out of all of us when we first got our costumes."

Bakugo hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t design it,” he grumbled.

Let's Reach the Horizon

After defeating All for One, all Izumi Midoriya wants are some holidays.

Then she gets kidnapped by aliens right after.

Well, at least her alien cat cellmate is nice.

It Takes a Child to Teach a Village

Life doesn't always go the way you want it to. Sometimes it just throws you in a garbage can and lights the garbage can on fire and laughs as you scream in agony. And all you can do is tell yourself that it'll be okay. That you'll be okay. And sometimes you're right and you wake up the next morning to a wonderful day full of sunshine and rainbows and singing birds and you start living life in a damn Disney movie.

Other times you're wrong. The cycle just continues. Maybe Life adds lighter fluid next time. Or fills the bottom of the can with dead fish. And it's up to you to get up off your sorry ass and do something to fix your life because it is clear that you're basically alone. When there's no hero coming to save you, you're forced to save yourself. Be your own hero.

Izuku decides the best way to be a hero is to be a teacher.

Packbonding with a Predator | MHA alien AU

[NO MHA KNOWLEDGE REQUIRED]

Humans- The primitive, savage beasts that poachers across the universe were dying (quite literally) to get their claws on. The no contact order placed on their deathworld, Earth, was supposed to ensure that none would ever pass the fringes of their solar system. They hadn't reached deep-space travel (and probably never would), so the Hyperspace Public Safety Commission was fairly certain that their unimaginable strength and bloodthirsty ways were no threat to the universe at large.

So imagine H'zashi's surprise when he and his bondmate, Shouta, were placed in a cell with one after being captured by intergalactically wanted poachers. He just hoped his flock would get a funeral.

And yet how, even though everyone knew humans were unintelligent and vicious, could the purple furred human speak Common? Even more surprising were its first words.

"No fight?"

same faces.

Midoriya is accidentally sent back in time to the entrance exam by a villain attack. He decides to take advantage of the situation and fix the things that went horribly wrong himself.

(this is a standalone teaser for now; I'll probably come back to it at some point but I wrote this with the intention of showing off a snippet, not the first part of a series)

Things aren't as bad as they seem (they are usually worse)

Giyuu can feel the tugging of his heartstrings and realises, with the briefest flash of horror, that he got attached to Class 1-A.

#Fic recs #BNHA fic recs #MHA fic recs #MHA #BNHA

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will-york · 7 months ago

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Legacy Part 2 // Self-Para

It wasn't until the sun was peaking through the window and he heard the birds singing outside that he knew he had actually managed to fall asleep. He had been pacing for hours after dinner, trying to distract himself with anything but nothing worked. He smiled to himself as he woke up with his phone still clutched in his hand as he thought about how he had actually fallen asleep. He hadn't expected Penny to reach out but she had and what had started as a text turned into a phone call where he told her all about how nervous he was. She shared her perspective, asked him all the right questions and before he knew it, he had finally relaxed. He had barely mumbled a goodbye before falling asleep on her and he felt his cheeks get hot at the thought of it. Her voice on the other end of the line had been calming and as he thought of her words of encouragement, he was finally able to push himself out of bed.

He put his phone to charge and made a cup of the shitty hotel room coffee. He had insisted on going on his own, staying at somewhere easy. But he wouldn't have been surprised if his father's had also found a place to stay nearby just in case. The thought made him laugh as he washed his face and combed his hair. He hummed to himself as he got dressed and once he was done, he sat on the edge of the bed and drank his coffee while flipping through the morning news.

He was supposed to meet her at a diner nearby at 10am. Her suggestion. It was neutral ground. She hadn't wanted him to feel uncomfortable going to her house right away. It was considerate, though Will wasn't eager about having the moment witnessed by other people. Still, it was only 7am and Will was already up and ready. He sighed as he turned off the TV, discarded his cup and then shrugged on his coat. He felt more at ease as he stepped out into the cool morning air as he walked through the parking lot. The town he had seen when he had driven in last night had seemed half alive, but now there were people out and about on the streets. School buses passing by on their way to pick up kids for school. It reminded him a little but of Tonopah Valley, just greyer and wetter.

He passed the time by getting himself a better cup of coffee and a pastry. He chatted with the barista there, asking questions about the town until the morning rush came in and he went back on his way. Time seemed to be moving so slowly but he made the most of it. He stopped in a nearby store and got something for a few of his friends. He knew Theo wouldn't accept not having at least a small souvenir. He sat on a bench for a little while and watched the birds fly by. He took deep breathes. He thought about texting Penny again but texted Lydia and Logan instead, smiling at his phone as they sent encouraging messages.

And finally, at 9:45, he got to the diner. He wondered if he was still too early. If she was a generally late person or if she might have already been waiting. But his question was answered as soon as he stepped into the diner and looked to his left.

She looked just like him. Or rather he looked just like her. She looked younger than she had in his mind, her hair much longer and when she stood as soon as she saw him, he saw how short shit was. It made him smile and he caught himself, his expression shifting as he started towards her. She seemed emotional already and he tried not to let that get to him as he looked at her. It was clear she wanted to hug him but he didn't know how to receive that.

She seemed to notice and took a seat and he followed.

They both laughed nervously as they greeted each other, avoiding eye contact as the waitress brought them coffee.

Thankfully, she spoke first. "I can't believe how big you are. So handsome, so tall. Just like your father." She caught herself at the admission and shook her head. "I'm not sure how to do this. I guess I should start with hi, I'm Elora. Your mother. I know you probably have so many questions, and I'd like to answer all of them. I'm so happy you're here. So happy," she told him and reached out to squeeze his hands.

Will swallowed thickly and looked down at their hands clasped together, not entirely sure how to feel about it but he didn't pull away. "Hi," he stared softly, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "I'm William. Your son." Both of their eyes seemed to be tearing and Elora gave Will's hands a pat.

"Now," she started, "How about we start at the beginning?"

#self para #legacy #sp #i was originally going to put everything in this one but it wasn't vibing for me so now there's gonna be three parts LMAO

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namelessmewmew · 9 days ago

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Old Art Archive Part 3.

Original captions under the cut.

Art Dump 1:

Digital versions of some traditional sketches I posted in sketch dumps previously, coloured these a while ago but didn't want to upload them separately so put them in a batch like this.

1. Probably going to change their species a bit, probably a pegasus or Maybe a kelpie? Maybe just a merhorse? Don't have much personality wise, just a old horse/some kind of equine that lives by themselves in an swamp/marshland. [have to choose which] (Shades and Shadows)

2. A mershark, tends to spend most of his time in the deep ocean [mermaids in this universe can switch between legs and an tail and between lungs and gills, most mermaids tend to spend almost half/half on land and in the ocean]. However when he is on land he almost always goes to the restaurant mentioned in 3s info so has got to know is friends with them both. (Explosive Dusk)

3. One of the most frequent visitors of the local library, massive lover of marine biology [as well as microbiology], is the type of person to have alot of biology fun facts to give out, currently studying to be an Marine Biologist and works part time at her girlfriend's parents beachside restaurant. Girlfriend is a professional skater? [I think that's the term for someone that skateboards?] (Hangry Munch)

4. Bug/Horse hybrid? [Was an lab creation]. Not sure on specifics of species as I do like the idea of bughorses but worried about making them too similar to mlp neon changelings [which I do like alot but don't want to just copy]. She is an scientist [botanist] herself and she makes a bunch of cool plants [like walking venus fly traps, glowing floating roses etc]. (Shades and Shadows)

Individual Posts:

Wanted to have nicer art of Craft and Meghan so I could make toyhouse profiles for them. [Changed Craft's hair a bit] Really like how this came out but probs just going to draw very sketchy art for a bit after this as this was tiring [or at least physically I have been 100% sh/t for the two past days so this was tiring for me right now]. and yes I actually drew proper hands for once, using my own hands as reference. to dead to say anything about the character right now sorry or anything of otherwise real substance.

More of the usual slight redesigns of characters [make the colours a bit more saturated]. They have alot of forms they like taking and generally like long worm like or just a slime looking type forms. They are an apple farmer. That's all I have to say uh.

Literally just an digital version [though I guess chibified] of the only other drawing I have of them, drawing has been very hard lately, idk maybe I think a new mouse, maybe my wrist is messed up, maybe physically im just not doing well generally. maybe its just to hot and shit. Desert robot, idk if sand corrodes metal, but I guess you would some type of clothes just so you dont get sand all stuck to you and also metal gets hot doesnt it so if you are a robot like a walking computer ish you woundt want to overheat to much or you wouldnt be able to mentally function much.

Need to have some more bird characters, particularly crows and pigeons [and maybe some plague doctor style characters]. Pigeons are really cool birds, and always have very nice colours. Originally was going to go with arm wings rather than separate wings and arms that are in the same style as there legs.

Just a little doodle [Not the happiest with how this came out] Dangles [what the above character is] can't naturally have hair [as in head hair like humans] but can have hair by using wigs or magic. The background is meant to be a specific place, though I need to uh think more of how it is meant to look and flesh it out I guess. The above character is unnamed currently. Wonder what they are doing in this strange place?

Design on the left [blue one] was adopted from https://toyhou.se/Badvibez and designed by https://toyhou.se/jaspering, changed their design a bit [and although I'm not 100% sure what their original species was I don't think they were originally a wolf]. Also changed sparklepaw's [temp name for one on the right] design a bit. Wanted to draw something cute and simple so here are sparklewolf girlfriends. Like the way this came out alot, especially how colourful this is.

Only had the design of their head figured out last time I drew him but now have the whole design figured out. Also they are now named Nyapolitan! [originally named them Neopolitan as I go by Neo but I think I like this better, plus its a pun : D and also its just a one letter difference from Neapolitan].

Still have alot to improve on/learn but happy enough with how this year went art wise. Don't have much else to say like I did last time so eh. Template: https://www.deviantart.com/asterianmonarch/art/2021-Summary-of-Art-Template-Blank-896812770

New icon of Nya that I like alot more than the first one. [also made a new banner but might change that up a bit later]. oh and also going to post a lil thing in a hour or so as thats when its midnight here :]

Happy new year ^w^

Title: Ghoul Dog Concept Design As soon as I finished this I had a new design idea for them in mind, oh well I will get that down and out my head soon enough. Maybe later today, got a very sudden artistic motivation boost, which is odd as before yesterday the last time I drew was the on new years. "Ghoul Dog" is a placeholder for the species name as not all of them will be dog like. Might just call them Spoke [Ghosts in afrikaans], though not sure. Though probably will be an afrikaans word as the species name as I have some other related species that also have afrikaans words as species names.

Three Gif Nea Icons:

Cassidy and Casanova are now personal ocs rather than my fursona and sona. Just don't feel as connected to them anymore, though I have been brainstorming a new "sona" [more a mascot really] and went for a neapolitan ice-cream themed shapeshifter named Neopolitan [This is their cat form!] [Neo as I mostly have been vibing with the name Neo lately]. This icon may be a temp one as most of my socials don't allow gif icons [like tumblr], but not sure.

#Nameless Creates #Nameless Archive

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twilightangel83 · 1 year ago

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Danny had a plan. And he was going to stick to it. He was going to go with Damian, figure out the lay of the land, and then fake his death. The fact that Damian was taking him to Gotham to live with what was (apparently) his new family instead of the League shifted things slightly, but the plan remained the same.

Danny managed to keep with the plan with minimal mistakes. Sure he was a shit liar, but he was decent at acting blank as long as he didn't need to talk. So he just...didn't talk. As much as possible. The Wayne-family wasn't making it easy though. They kept trying to get him to engage. Asking him what he wanted, setting up 'his room' based off of what they seemed to think he might like (considering they based it somewhat off of him room back home it wasn't completely wrong). But Danny wasn't buying it. This had to be a test of some sort.

Finding the hidden basement under the manor only made things worse. Though not in the way he'd originally thought it would. At first it was just, yay. Another fruitloop billionaire with a secret lab/base under his mansion. But then Danny realized that this was the Bat Cave. As in Bruce Wayne was Batman, and his kids were the various birds (he owned Tucker money now, great). And that. That wasn't good. The Bats and Birds were well known for their deduction skills, so it was just a matter of time before they realized he was faking things. And he'd have to make his death way more convincing. Plus Batman was a well-known meta-disliker. So Danny needed to make sure to keep all of his abilities completely under wraps. Pairing that with the fact that Batman's Justice League had regularly ignored Amity Park's call for help? Well, let's just say Danny was far from impressed. He was sticking to his plan and getting out of this place as soon as he could.

So, of course, nothing went according to plan. Danny had been doing so well too! But then they'd gone and decided to introduce him to the last member of their 'family', Jason. According to the rest of the 'family' Jason had been out of town for the last two weeks he'd been in Gotham, but since Danny had been hearing news about Red hood out and about he was pretty sure that was bullshit (observing the rest in the cave and narrowing things down had led Danny to be pretty sure that Jason was Red Hood. Through the process of elimination). He rather got the impression that they were worried how well him meeting Jason would go so they'd put it off until he'd 'had more time to settle in'.

So they'd finally decided it was time for him to meet Jason, and took the time to warn him that Jason had a temper and came across as abrasive most of the time (but he was a good guy really!) before the day of the meet came around. It was dinner time (because apparently Jason rarely came over outside of joining them for occasional dinners) and they'd all gathered to eat by the time Jason arrived, making his way into the dining room with outward ease even as his eyes scanned over Danny in a way Danny could only categorize as analyzing.

And Danny? Danny froze. Because that? That right there. That man wasn't alive. Not fully at least. Danny could hear his heart beating, but he could also see a core pulsing along with his heartbeat. A very, very unhealthy-looking core.

"Fuck."

---

"Fuck." Damian could only watch in confusion as the cool blankness that Danny tended to radiate disappeared, replaced with boiling frustration. Across the room, Jason froze in his path to approach the table, frowning at Damian's brother, but Damian barely spared him a glance as Danny shot to his feet and threw his hands in the air.

"Fuck this! Fuck all of this! Fucking Vlad and Pariah making this my problem!" Icy blue eyes should not look like flames, but Danny's certainly made a good try at it as he scowled over the family at the table. "And fuck you lot for dragging me into this situation without ever asking if I wanted to be here!" Danny spun away again to glare at the ceiling. "And fuck you too Clockwork! Don't think I don't notice how bloody convenient all this timing is! I know you had a hand in this!"

Damian was stumped. Who was Vlad and Pariah? Or Clockwork for that fact? Well. Vlad could mean Vlad Masters, the mayor of Amity Park, but that still didn't explain what Danny was ranting about here. And....not asking if he wanted to be here? Why would-? What was that supposed to mean?....at least Daniel was showing more personality?

"Danny? If you just calm down for a moment I'm sure we can-" Bruce started, slowly getting up from his chair, but Danny cut him off, spinning to fix him with a glare.

"No. Shut up and sit down. You brought me here. Without so much as a by-your-leave or the smallest question to see if I wanted to leave the home I'd been living in for the last ten years of my life. So now you've made this mess my problem! So you're going to sit there and let me fix this. This is your one-one!-chance to prove to me that you're not like the League. That you haven't been lying out of your ass for the two weeks I've been here. And that you're better than your fucking useless Justice League Batman!"

Damian probably shouldn't be surprised that Danny figured out who Bruce was, he was league-trained after all, but after watching Danny be so complacent and uncaring about snooping for the last two weeks. Well. He was. And, judging by their expressions, the rest of the family was too. But before any of them had time to try and react Danny was storming around the table to march over to a very on-guard Jason.

"You!" Danny jabbed a finger at Jason as he drew closer. "You look like a complete mess! Your core is weak. The only ectoplasm that you have feels like it came out of a sewer-lazarus water is my guess-and it's clear you never got your revenge! How the fuck are you anything close to sane right now?!

"....What?!"

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

#dpxdc #Danny is still following them home bc he's like “this has GOT to be a test”#< prev tags #ghost king danny #danny is fed up with this shit #but he's gotta be responsible #all ecto beings are his responsibility #and this one is having trouble

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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years ago

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could you do hc for dallas going to sleep on the curtis couch only to find the reader there instead? (ik its kina odd ,heh)

okay istg i did one of these on my old blog but in reverse lol, but i can't find it? anyways, sorry this took me ages to write. i decided to make it a small little written piece, but it ended up being almost 5k words? i hope you enjoy what i've come up with tho! (': <333 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Title: Sleepy Encounters

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Reader

Summary: Buck Merril's place is fully booked one winter night, leaving Dallas with two options: The back of the T-Bird's impeccably hard seat, or the safe haven of the Curtis couch. One seems vastly more comfortable than the other, and in his sleepy state he encounters something unexpected... and it's definitely not Steve Randle.

Word Count: 4,941

Warnings: swearing, fighting, bickering, mentions of injury/violence, mentions of a switchblade used on a car, mentions of dally being homeless, dally being a bit of a dick, rough housing with no intent to harm bc the reader was sleepy and didn't know their own strength lmaoo. if i've missed anything out then lemme know!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

January brought it's iciest blues upon winter's breath, touching Tulsa, Oklahoma with its thickest blanket of snow in quite some time. New Year's Eve had come and went on the dying leaves of mistletoe and cheap festive booze. Although the festivities were still booming days later for Buck Merrill at his cheap looking home, Dallas Winston - tipsy from his drinks and a great night partying with his buddy Tim Shepard, he soon came to the realisation that his usual room he'd called his home for the past couple of months had been awarded to a drunken couple about to defile his bed and probably what little personal belongings he still had up in that space.

There was a vivid stroke of disbelief that struck Dally callously in the gut upon hearing the sudden news. It almost made him laugh out loud vehemently as he propped himself up on his elbows against the kitchen table.

"You gotta be shitting me." Dal's plump lips spread out into a dangerous grin prompted by booze and a short fuse.

He shook his head, turning it to the left to find Tim sneering at him with his latest female fascination sitting friskily on his lap.

Buck gulped thickly, intoxicated himself, but all too aware of the insatiably violent repercussions that often ensued when Dallas Winston didn't get his way. Sure they were buddies, but Buck never enjoyed being bullied. It always bugged the older male that he could be bullied into things despite his tough exterior. Dally was his rodeo partner and the pair had made an unspoken promise about Dally staying with him for a while.

The beanstalk of a cowboy cleared his throat uncomfortably, standing up straight as though he was calculating the distance between himself and Dally’s lengthy striking distance.

“M’sorry man,” Buck shrugged with what seemed like indifference. His voice faltered slightly, to which Dally could manage to make out over the cheap, booming music. “I got offered a better deal for it!"

'A better deal?' Dallas pondered to himself, his bushy eyebrows raising up, crinkling his youthful forehead in a way that reminded Tim of an empty chip bag.

This had to be a joke. All of his shit from his pop's place was up there! Buck knew he despised it when someone went digging through his stuff, let alone slept on his mattress that wasn't his girlfriend!

There’d always been this rule between them that had sprouted since day one of Dallas periodically staying there: What became Dally’s, stayed Dally’s. Buck knew this like it was the Eleventh Commandment or something!

Buck had given him a place to crash pretty much every night, which meant that Dallas kept away the rowdy people Buck was too scared stiff to show the door to during parties. Not to mention he promised to work his ass off the next time he rode bull so Buck would get all of the betting dough. It was all free of charge on both ends, so why was his rodeo partner backing out now? He knew better than this.

“A better deal?” Dally snorted, fiddling with the empty brown glass beer bottle in front of him on the coffee table. It gleamed in the fluorescent light that twitched on and off rapidly behind Buck. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

Even to Dally himself, he appeared menacing in his small, warped reflection in the deep chocolate glass. His eyebrows were pinched together all funny and he couldn’t even look up at his buddy that he wanted nothing more than to sock straight in the face. Maybe knocking a few more teeth loose would help Buck remember who he was screwing over.

“They gave him seventy bucks!” Tim chimed in loudly like he was a pirate’s parrot. Man was he wasted if he was tattling on the owner of this house.

Buck shot him a look with his beady eyes, his face hot under the low lights, and he cursed at the snitch known as Tim Shepard. A cussing out was cuing up.

“Seventy bucks?!” Dally squawked out, almost sounding like he was choking. He smoothed a hand down his chin, because who the hell had that kind of cash in a dump like this unless they stole or gambled it?

Buck shrugged his shoulders, leaning up against the doorframe adjacent to Dally. He looked cool, but his eyes gave way to an uneasiness he’d hoped to avoid. He wasn’t about to give up his own bed for the rascal who wasn’t paying him zilch to bum around his place and offer up very little in return.

“Times are hard right now.” His excuse was poor, even Tim could see right through it.

A deal was a deal and he’d made one with Dally, whether silent or not. You stuck to your word when it came to the notoriously difficult seventeen year old, otherwise there was hell to pay.

Hitting hard times and all that was nonsense! This place was always bustling, because it was filled with wild people who did wild things: and when wild people did wild things, there was always this influx of money and other means of value that came along with it - despite it’s corrupt origins.

"Hard times my ass." The younger one seethed out with bitter acrimony, leaning his body forward against the wooden table. “We had a deal.” He continued to counter.

“What deal?” Buck raised his eyebrows like it was the first time he’d ever heard of this made up agreement.

Dally let out a cold laugh, settling back into the kitchen chair around Buck’s dining table. There’d been a poker game going on an hour ago that Dally had fixed to win in his favour. He’d made double of seventy bucks, but wasn’t about to spend a single cent of it here.

“You pullin’ my leg or somethin’, man?” Dally let out a huff of irritation, for once willing to take things in good humour.

But all there was was this uneasy standoff between the two men: Buck was silent, his eyes were the only thing giving away his guiltiness. Dally’s clenched fists sat on top of the table and shook violently. His knuckles were this creamy bone white.

“If I come back tomorrow and my shit’s been taken, I swear to God you’ll be on a stretcher to the hospital.” He rasped out loudly, jabbing his finger onto the countertop with promise.

“You ain’t gonna do squat.” Buck challenged.

Oh, he should have kept that bucked toothless mouth shut!

It wasn’t long until Dallas had exited Buck’s home with a belligerent push of the front screen door. The thing squealed and groaned with the violent movement until it banged against the wooden planks of the wall behind it and slammed back shut behind him. A string of hostile cusses flew from Dally’s mouth, threats flying along with them at breakneck speed and over his right shoulder. Buck lay on the ground inside, clutching his fresh black eye and a busted nose. That was the last time Dallas would afford to get fucked over by him.

There was a formidable and sour expression plastered to his handsome face that made Dallas appear several years older than his actual age. Like a domino effect, people outside chatting stopped before hurriedly looking the other way - even if they were on the friendlier side of his acquaintance -. Everybody that had a brain knew not to even look at Dally when he was in a foul mood like this.

As he stepped off the front porch, he was met with snow fluttering down in a breath-taking delicate fashion from the starless dark sky. It dusted onto the shoulders of his notorious brown leather jacket with the fortunate sheepskin lining. Although the cold suddenly bit on his nose, ears and appendages, he was toasty warm with rampant rage that needed some sort of outburst to thwart it. He turned the corner of the home sharply where there were less people and in his line of sight was his only refuge for the night. Buck’s T-Bird, which was blanketed with an inch of snow by now, looked about the only warm place he could bunk for the night since his pop’s kicked him out once again.

Sleeping in the frigid T-Bird with just the clothes on his back and a hope not to freeze to death seemed plausible. He’d slept in much worse places back in New York City that made the car seem like a five star hotel. Yet in his bitterness, Dallas had a distinct mental image of Tim Shepard rapping on the window the following afternoon in his hungover stupor, suddenly brightened up to poke fun at how his buddy who’s mirror the image was of a kicked puppy, settling for being Buck’s bitch because he had nowhere else to go.

Dallas gritted his teeth, his breath coming out in laboured, frustrated smoky plumes whilst he pocketed his hands in his back pockets, his fist instinctively curled around his pretty switchblade. A gnarly idea slashed an opening into his twisted mind: Buck would have no T-Bird, and the beauty of it was that hopefully Buck was too hammered to remember where the black eye and broken nose had come from in the morning. If Tim wanted to snitch then, then he’d get what was coming for him.

“Hope that seventy bucks was worth it…” Dally muttered smartly to himself, making good work of his switchblade.

With a fraction of his anger righted somehow, Dally turned out of the drive on foot and began the long, logical walk towards the Curtis Brother’s house. There lay his only warm safe haven from the cold in the form of a couch he hoped was not occupied by his his pal Steve Randle. Although Dallas had taken the floor of the living room on many occasions, his foul mood was an indication that if Steve or anyone else was situated on that couch, they’d be taking the floor. Otherwise they’d be met with a deadly shove landing them there. He’d fight for that spot, especially since he’d been virtually homeless once again through the fault of his deadbeat father.

The lengthy walk was spent on Dallas stewing over the audacity Buck had in wronging him, despite the fact he logically was aware that he’d not been bringing any real income into the place he had been bumming around at. Dally didn’t care, nobody wronged him like that and it bothered him something awful that his rodeo partner had turned his back on him in his time of need.

After all, Dally had been real smart about who he’d told his housing situation to. His gang knew and so did Buck; all sworn to secrecy to keep it hidden from his girlfriend who would have made a fuss about the entire ordeal. He needed a place to stay, not someone who would worry about the minute details on a consistent basis then bug him nonstop about said details. He didn’t need to be fretted over, because he was fine! He always made ends meet somehow, whether that came from stealing, lying or cheating: Dallas Winston could rely on himself solely - even if he didn’t like to admit that he needed other people such as Buck and the gang in between time to get by.

Realistically Dally knew that bringing (y/n) into this wouldn’t have pleaded his case for the better: He was accustomed to couch surfing since a young age back in New York, so this was his life and her babying and concern would have only grated on his nerves since he wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t like she could have convinced her parents to offer up their living room couch to him since his extensive criminal record and daunting reputation left him in an unfavourable light regarding her parents. Sure there was the option of having snuck into (y/n)’s room more often, but too many times in a row harboured questions that Dally was too guarded to ever answer truthfully to anyone, let alone to her.

Perhaps he was just too embarrassed to, because a part of him thought that she deserved better than a bum like him: He kept getting thrown back into the cooler like it was his primary home, which never made (y/n) happy at all. Yet she knew there was no changing him, but he always caught that look of disappointment in her eyes when he’d be sent away for however long this time.

Dallas Winston was nothing but a hoodlum, the worst of the worst. He’d done so many unspeakable things for crying out loud! How had he bagged not only such a good looker, but also someone relatively good? Good was meant in the sense that sure she’d break the rules, maybe some more minor laws if she wouldn’t get caught, but overall, she wasn’t cut from the same stretch of cloth as Dallas had been from birth: Goodness had rotted from the inside out when he was just ten years old, freshly shipped off to juvenile detention for the first time.

He was stuck this way for good, because people couldn’t change. The world wouldn’t change.

His feet crunched through the snow of the vacant lot when he came hurtling into the present moment. He quivered from the cold - even his toes were numb from walking so long in it -. A habitual sniffle came from him just as his eyes veered off to the left to find that old beaten up car seat completely vacant and no fresh ruined remnants of a fire within its wake. Johnny’s absence here was a godsend to Dallas who was happy to discover his friend had some sort of smarts in his noggin. That was one less thing he had to worry about, even if it meant that Johnny was holed up in his parents place. A relatively warmer place away from the elements was better than the straight up snow being your blanket.

He continued on his lonesome trek towards his safe haven of warmth.

Dallas felt some relief wash over him as he slowly took one step up on the porch at a time. He got to the mat outside of the screen door and stomped his feet good and hard, because Darry would no doubt bitch about the soggy carpet in the morning. His numbed fingers curled around the handle, softly yanking it open. He kicked the other door open, slightly left ajar for some unfathomable reason and Dally was overcome with the sweet nectar that was a warm home. It felt scalding on his frozen skin that had gone slightly damp on his face from his shaggy bangs dripping melted snowflakes onto his reddened skin. He let out a sigh, shoving them back before kicking off his smelly boots by the door.

His actions were gentle as he hung up his jacket, careful not to make much noise so he didn't wake the occupants of the home up. The only other permeating in the house was the TV that blew static since the station it was on had come to it’s nightly end. He found that odd and it should have been a dead giveaway that someone else was occupying the couch. Yet in his sleepy state, too exhausted and cold to feel any indignance for the extra work, he journeyed over to the device with a creek of the floorboards underneath his weight to switch it off.

The room and himself plummeted into darkness and without thinking, he backed up towards the couch with the intention to flop backwards on it and hit the hay.

Dallas’s sturdy back came into contact with a hard object curled in on itself. It hurt like hell, kicking the wind straight out of his lungs whilst his head smacked violently against the arm of the couch. He groaned at the same time he heard a sickly moan underneath him. However his mind, plagued with the desire to sleep, did not register what or who was underneath him.

There came a struggle, something stirring and buried under his body weight, before a desperate, “Can’t breathe!” twinkled into his ears in a familiar twang and pitch.

“What the hell?” He grunted out, tired of the sharp elbow digging in the back of his ribs. He leaned his arm upon the back of the couch and hoisted his body weight up so his fingers stretched out into the dark and flicked on the lamp.

Light pooled outwards, stinging his eyes and he hissed, blinking profusely before getting a look at exactly who was under him, because it certainly was not Steve.

There, half curled up, bestowing both a grouchy and painful expression was his girlfriend. (y/n) looked up at him, digging herself deeper into the comfortable couch and making good use of Dallas’s looming shadow to shield her from the light. Her eyes adjusted first, half lidded, but she didn’t say anything to him.

‘Is this a dream?’ She inquired quietly in her mind, studying Dally’s irritated features. For a moment she had forgotten her own bedless predicament and wondered why he was half hovering over her in an odd twisted fashion like he was Spiderman.

Dallas blinked a few more times, stunned to find his girlfriend bumming on Darry’s couch at this hour. Had her home been set on fire or something? Because this sort of shtick just didn’t happen in the real world.

Their silence loomed for a few short minutes before Dallas twisted round fully and knelt down by her feet. He wasn’t entirely smooth about the motion, his left hand flying out instinctively onto the armrest above her head to prevent himself from falling on top of (y/n) and really doing any intentional damage. The dog tags around his neck flung out from the confines of his black beat up t-shirt and swung like a pendulum between them, scuffing her cheek a few times. Irritation consumed her and her right hand flew up to catch it and shoot daggers up at Dallas.

“What the hell are ya doin’ here? Ain’t you meant to be at home sleepin’?” He spoke a little louder than he intended to. After all, he’d been expecting smartass Steve.

“Sleepin’! What does it look like I’m doin’?” She hissed out like a cobra, her eyebrows knitted together in a way that spelled she wasn’t happy with him.

“No dumbass,” Dally began, much quieter this time, “I meant-”

“I know what you meant-” She hissed once more, fingers still curled around his dog tags, but her eyes refused to lock on his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.

He was riddled with impatience, a new thing to grow angry about. All he wanted to do was get a few hours of shut eye and be on his merry way by noon. But something about the way (y/n) wasn’t making room for him on the couch grated him like he was a measly piece of cheddar cheese. He could not be bothered with being dealt another unjust hand tonight

His left hand slid down the armrest beside her hair and he did his best to gently shove her deeper into the back of the couch with a, “Move over!” tumbling from his plump lips that usually had a smoke between them.

“I can’t!” She challenged back, shoving up against his shoulder in retaliation much stronger than she’d meant so.

The sharp movement caused the chain around his neck to snap off. He veered off to the left and he shot off over her legs and the side of the couch. He thumped into the coffee table just as his left forearm steadied himself. He grunted out in more than frustration, his eyes falling on his favourite piece of jewellery dangling in her hands like it was a betrayal.

“I was here first!” (y/n) declared logically, suddenly backed up by all the courage in the world that caused her to turn her back on Dallas. In retaliation, she stuck her butt out underneath the blanket thrown over her in a haphazard fashion to prohibit her boyfriend from joining her on the couch.

If he’d asked more politely then maybe she would have considered his abnormal request at such an ungodly hour.

Dallas he didn’t think, his fingers moved of their own venomous accord and the tips pinched her right butt cheek curtly. It caused her to jostle, her knee slamming into the back of the couch and they were lucky her yelp had been muffled by the thick blanket Sodapop had no doubt thrown onto her at some point during the night. She whipped around to face him like a bat racing out of hell - the blanket getting caught around her feet. Her face was swarmed with all the signs of rage and it made him laugh out loud while he faced her.

“Take the floor. You’re meant to be a gentleman.” She pointed out, totally knowing it was futile because Dallas Winston was never a gentleman.

“Take the floor?!” He forgot his little triumph in getting her to turn around and became irritated. “What? You think I’d get a bad back for you? In your dreams, babe! The shivers are dead!” He pointed at her childishly.

“The shivers?” She muttered to herself perplexed as she stared at her boyfriend. What was that meant to indicate?

It sounded made up. Then realisation began to dawn across her breath-taking features and she let out a swift, quiet laugh. It sounded abnormal, all smug and out of character for her.

“You think I’m being funny?” He snapped at her.

“Don’t you mean chivalry?” She sneered triumphantly, a mirror image of how Dally looked like every time he teased her for saying something stupid.

“That’s what I said! Are you calling me dumb?” He inquired seriously, parking his butt on the coffee table because his knees were aching from kneeling down.

“I didn’t have to, you did it all on your own.” She pointed out.

It was true, he had.

A blush scalded his cheeks as though he’d been branded by a red hot poker. He was embarrassed, but it wasn’t like words and shit were his forte. Everybody knew that! So he went to the next best line of defence: Attempting to roast her.

“You've been hanging out with Pony again or something? You sound like a walking talking dictionary.” He stated, flicking her forehead playfully. It sounded weak and he even knew it.

(y/n) rolled her eyes at him in such a fashion that if she’d rolled them any harder, they would have popped out of her head and landed in his lap. She didn’t hesitate to roll over once more, certain that Dallas would tire himself out once the, “You’re gonna wake up Darry.” left her lips in that nasally sing-song tone.

Was that supposed to be some terrifying threat that was meant to leave Dally shaking in his stinky socks? It made him snort because even Darry wouldn’t dare go up against him, because he was too wild. The oldest Curtis was smart, he wasn’t going to risk getting into anything heated with Dally. In his eyes he ran the show, but one of Dally’s daunting dark looks (however fake) that spelled out he was in a bad mood would result in Darry steering clear of him; though he did have to admit that in a sleep driven stupor, Darry wouldn’t have as much sense as his waking self typically did.

That didn’t matter to Dallas. He’d take him on either way, just like he did anyone else.

“Yeah?” Dallas leaned closer, his cold lips pressed against her ear, making the volume of his voice test her eardrums. He’d play into her little game. “S’that meant to be a threat?” She could hear the smile in his tone.

“Maybe if I yell loud enough he’ll kick you off the couch for me. Now move!” He hissed himself, pressing his frigid hands against the back of her neck.

A striking yelp came out of her throat, startling even Dallas as he sat back. She sat up, eyes ablaze with anger and the pair sat there quietly, listening to the way Darry’s snoring broke up. He twisted in bed for a few short minutes before his snoring started up again and Dallas grinned at her evilly.

“Great going, dumbass! You could’ve gotten us kicked out!” She launched the couch cushion at him, her voice a shouting whisper.

Dallas effortlessly captured the cushion in his hand like it were any miscellaneous item someone had thrown his way. He was smug, biting his lip whilst all his anger washed away because he’d won this argument the dirty way. His long thick fingers squashed the feathery insides of the beaten up cushion between his hands. His dark eyes spelt mischief and (y/n) sighed out, admitting her defeat.

“Fine!” She huffed out, wrapping the blanket around herself as she got to her feet.

Dally rose from the coffee table and playfully flopped onto the couch, jutting the pillow behind his head to break the fall against the armrest. He laid there, his infamous shit eating grin stretching across the expenditure of his entire countenance. She hated how annoying her boyfriend could be, rolling her eyes and getting ready to retreat with the warm blanket to Darry’s armchair. She didn’t get far when Dallas encased her thighs in his right arm, tugging her down on top of him.

“Don’t be such a grump!” He teased her quietly, impishly smirking at her.

She responded by straddling him, tucking her head into his strong chest in defeat. Dally's hands yanked areas of the blanket so he could be covered up too.

"Blanket hog." He muttered under his breath before his lithe fingers reached up over his head and flicked the lamp's switch off.

Darkness came upon them, thin lines of silver moonlight streaking in through the blinds. Dally pretended they didn't exist, shuffling about to gain the most comfortable position. He felt his shaggy bangs sticking to his forehead, almost dried and laughed to himself a little over the encounter he'd had with (y/n). If anyone had pushed him like that, they'd be kissing the dirt under the house right now, but he had a soft spot for her: Besides, he didn't get a kick out of doing things like that to women.

"What's so funny?" (y/n) asked suddenly, shivering on top of him and feeling his cool skin through their thin, worn out clothes.

"Nothin'." He mumbled in the darkness, eyes shut.

"You're cold." She complained, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock." He laughed into her hair, blowing air into her face just to be a nuisance, but there was a gentleness to his actions.

"I hate you."

"No you don't, sweetheart." He countered with a smile on his lips.

He was correct, she didn't hate him: No matter how annoying or awful he could be, (y/n) loved Dally and Dally loved her too. Sure they hadn't said it yet, but even the gang could tell it too. Their little scuffle, his broken dog tags that she still held in her fist and his bruised ego from their unintentional rough housing was something to chortle about now and in the months to come.

Dally forgave her, but he wasn't so certain that she had forgiven him for waking her up in such a painful way. It hadn't been his fault, he'd just assumed it was Steve or nobody. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought his cutesy girlfriend would be bumming on a greasers couch.

"What're you doin' here anyway?" Dally's voice was hushed in the darkness, his big fingers smoothing up and down her back in a relaxing fashion.

(y/n) was silent, deliberating whether she should tell him what had happened or not. For a moment, Dally thought she'd already KO'd, but then she sucked in a deep breath,

"I got kicked out because I embarrassed my dad in front of the neighbours so Darry had to come pick me up." She rushed it out in one breath.

It sounded unrealistic and Dally clicked his tongue in a false disappointed fashion, his eyebrows raised in the dark, "You streak the neighbours or somethin'?" He teased her ruthlessly.

"No!" She growled, offended and embarrassed. He could just imagine the glowing embarrassment rife in her expression.

"Then what'd you do, goody two shoes?"

"I drank too much and puked on the neighbours front porch..." She muttered quietly.

Dallas would have been a real bastard and gotten her to repeat it, but the first time she said it was hilarious enough. He erupted into a fit of laughter so loud, he shook underneath her.

"Soda! You better quit gigglin' like a school girl or so help me God-" Darry's booming voice echoed in the house.

"Huh?" Soda groaned, voice muffled from his face being squashed in his pillow.

"Shut up!" (y/n) giggled quietly, slapping her hand over Dally's mouth. "You're gonna get us both killed!" She hissed, her smile pressed into his collarbone.

Dally attempted to stifle himself, burying his face into (y/n)'s hair just as Darry sat up in bed and muttered nonsense to himself like, "I got work in the morning!"

"What you talkin' about? I got work in the mornin' too!" Soda sassed back from across the hallway.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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#dallaswinston #dallas winston #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagines #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders dallas winston #the outsiders dallas winston imagines #the outsiders dallas winston headcanons #the outsiders dallas winston x reader #hope you enjoyed reading!

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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 2 years ago

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Dabi hates the way his stomach twists the first time Hawks brings Toga a 'gift'. He's been feeling the Hero out, the occasional flirt sent his way being welcome. The insults almost teasing and now, now Hawks was bringing them gifts. It was one thing to not bring up the shit Dabi was stealing out of Hawks apartment for everyone else.

But this was worse, worse than when he finally made his move on Dabi for all the dinners out and the medicine. Worse than when he'd been so nice about it, giving Dabi the option of paying later rather than now.

-Hawks kissing along Dabi's jaw and one of his hands by Dabu's head, half boxing him in and he gets nervous. Dabi's not sure Hawks will take a no, whose faster isn't a game he wants to play with Hawks. He dosen't want to say no, not yet, Hawks other hand is warm in between his thighs where he's nicely groping at Dabi over his pants.

"Let me know if you don't want to do this Dabs." Hawks pulls back to mutter in his ear before he sucks on the spot underneath it. Dabi's dick twitches at Hawks raspy voice and the attention as he lazily opens his eyes to check the exits.

If he doesn't do it now he will just have to pay Hawks back later. Maybe when he's not as generous or Dabi isn't as turned on.

"It's fine Hawks, now fuck me." He tilts his head to whisper in Hawks ear and let's himself moan.-

Toga, Toga is a child. Teenager really, a year away from legal adulthood that she never fails to remind him of. Hawks gives it to her and Dabi's heart leaps to his throat.

Hawks won't take it out from her, probably. He's not the kind of man, everyone wants to believe their husband, brother, father, cousin, best friend is incapable. That's how they get away with it.

Dabi watches and keeps the cost tally. He keeps Hawks attention on him, it's easy, the way Hawks still dotes and spoils him most. How he still leaves things to give everyone out. Then Hawks gives Toga a brand new Lolita styled coat, matching boots,gloves and hat and Dabi drags him into his room immediately. Stripping off his dirty over washed white T to reveal himself.

He's, Dabi knows he's not much to look at. He's rail thin and his ribs are clearly seen, sure he's got his nipples pierced but his scars distract from the jewelry.

"Hey wait a minute hot stuff, I want to see it on her." Hawks still gives Dabi a rake over and tries to duck around him to the door.

"Your taking it from me. Not her. She should be able to have nice clothes without worrying." Dabi grits his teeth as he draws his boundaries in the sand.

Preparing for the pain, or the embarrassment of wearing a dress again, or the bargaining that such a expensive gift will entail. Dabi closes his eyes and starts adding up his old rates.

Hours vs kinks vs entire nights. Hawks could own him for a week and do whatever he wanted for that brands ensemble. Its expensive, durable and fashionable. The kind of place Fuyumi should have been able to shop.

"What are you talking about? I'm not taking anything from you or her?" Hawks smile is too stiff, his confusion too fake. Dabi swallows hard, Hawks finds him attractive. He, he can do this. Toga needed the winter gear and it's something she will wear without Dabi chasing her down to do so. Hawks finds him attractive, he mentally deducts his prices a little as he considers how he looks compared to Hawks.

If he's resorting to this Dabi might be in pain afterwords, despite how nice he's been so far, that might change once Dabi puts his foot down. As much as he's able anyways.

"She's 17 Hawks. A teenager whose not ready for these deals." Dabi rolled his neck and lowered his eyes when Hawks gaze snapped to his. Holding the eye contact. "40 a hour, 10 a kink and 100 a night, pretty bird."

Dabi crooked his fingers at Hawks and gave a little smirk he didn't feel. He was already tired and regretting this. Shigaraki would need a new coat as well as Spinner. They were used to nice usable things and money to get them.

Hawks paled as he watched Dabi and then he was diving for the window, shoving it up out of its stuck position and hurling outside.

Dabi's heart sunk. He knew. He knew it was different in the daylight. The staples and piercings did little to distract from the scars and how they stretched, how his skin was work and scraped where he was held together. He was too skinny but he couldn't afford food when he was busy sneaking the leftovers and Bento's onto the younger members and Shigaraki.

"Your not taking it back and she's not paying you. Take it or leave it Hero." Dabi growled out, braced for Hawks to react violently and to loose his source of 'free' supplies and food. As well as his "gifts."

"Tell me, that, what were." Hawks couldn't get out while he was dry heaving. "I'm not that disgusting. Made enough to live and for you to take under your oh so flammable wings." Dabi snapped out. Shoulders tense and shivering as he stood there shirtless and uncomfortable. Hawks realized how small he really was, the bento's- Dabi hadn't eaten them had he?

#Dabi #Hawks #DabiHawks #BNHA #MHA #thedarkonewrites #omegaverse #OmegaDabi #dabihawks #dabi #mha #bnha #hawks #keigo takami #my hero academia #hotwings

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hanazuma-inactive · 3 years ago

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safe in his arms, (nsfw) hawks x reader

pronouns: he/him (FEMALE ORIENTED DNI!)

warnings: nothing much other than a cumming inside it's pretty soft sex

a/n: this request is for the 🥴anon :) i always love to write hawks requests and this concept is sweet. sorry if this was too much comfort and not enough nsfw? i got carried away a little lol

_____

keigo first proposed to you after a mission. he knelt down and said the 4 magic words. the civilians and his peers all shouting "marry him!". what reason do you have not to? he was the man of your dreams since highschool and now he's on his knees, asking you to marry him. you said yes of course and happy tears streamed down both of your faces.

what more could you ask for, you've been married to a lovely husband for 3 years and the relationship between you two was stable. no one was losing interest and everyday was filled with joy and happiness.

even though you had this perfect environment around you, the tears from your eyes would not stop falling back. being a hero is going to be hard and you knew that. things go wrong all the time. villains escape, people lose their family, some lose their lives.

today was another day in patrol where the villain escaped because of your incompetence. everyone around you said it was fine of course but you sure as hell knew it wasn't. compared to someone like hawks, the #2 hero who you were married to, you're basically nothing. you had no recognition and the only reason your name was actually merely recognized was because of your husband.

you went home after, feeling shameful that you couldn't do your job well enough. you walked in the kitchen to see keigo wearing an apron preparing dinner for you.

"hey baby, you're back! i was just cooking up your favorite food. work was hectic today right? want me to prepare a bath for you?"

seeing hawks still caring so much for you despite the fact that you didn't even do the bare minimum of what you were supposed to. praising you, cooking for you, and being considerate. you felt like you didn't deserve this but because of your wonderful husband you still did. emotions were all over the place and before you knew it your eyes felt watery. tears started to drip down and you didn't even realize it. hawks noticed and immediately put the pan down and rushed over to you.

"woah woah, y/n, what's wrong? did something happen at work today?"

you closed your eyes and fell into keigo's chest. whimpers and inconsistent hics replacing your words. hawks let out a sigh and patted your back, attempting to make you more calm. he always knew what to do, whether it was to comfort you or make you smile.

"it's alright baby...i'm here, just let it out." keigo said as he stroked your hair. he waited till the hiccing stop and tilted up your head so that your eyes met his. he also wrapped his hands around your waist as yours stayed on his chest.

"wanna tell me what's wrong? you know you can tell me anything." hawks said in a soothing tone.

you nodded your head and hawks flew to the couch with you in his arms.

"alright sweetheart, i'm all ears, what's up?"

you explained what happened today at work and how pressured you felt trying to live up to your hero name being married to the number 2 hero and all so the others won't talk down of hawks because of you. he listened patiently and made sure to hold you close to him during all of this. he took a deep breath and let out a sigh as he prepared to comfort you again.

"baby, first of all, please don't feel bad about letting the villain escape. this has nothing to do with your own capabilities, every hero in this world accidently let's villains escape sometimes, even me, even endeavor! i also never want you to worry about what other people say about me "because of you". all those pieces of shits that say that can fuck right off. i don't give a single shit about what they say, i asked you to marry me because i love you, not for some stupid hero business so in no world do you need to "live up to my name" alright?"

if you had more tears you would probably cry them out but luckily you ran out from before. you thanked hawks after feeling better and rested your head on his neck.

"you know you look cuter than usual today baby bird~" he said with a smirk on his face.

"keigo! you perv! you said while giggling.

your husband leaned in to kiss into snuggle into you. he nibbled your neck and hummed a tune into your ears. as much as you just want to cuddle and relax for the rest of the night with him, you couldn't deny the fact that hawks was looking incredibly attractive today. he always looked handsome but something about him wearing a t-shirt and the grey sweatpants that showed his bulge turned you on so much.

you found your eyes trailing to his crotch area naturally and god was it irresistible.

"where are your eyes going there sweetheart~?"

you were embarrassed that keigo found your intentions but you also wanted it, so you didn't mind.

"sorry, you looked too good, i couldn't help myself."

keigo gave you a smirk and got the message. he took your tongue to his and made out with you. it wasn't the messy type that you guys usually had. this time his touch was filled with care. his hands were wandering around your stomach and your waist, try to get you as comfortable as possible. after the kiss broke, you suggest going into the bedroom instead so the couch won't get dirty.

he picked you up with his strong arms and walked into the bedroom. his hands not leaving you the entire time. keigo took off your shirt and moved down to your nipples after kissing you some more. he knows you loved being teased like this.

keigo had you riled up in seconds. making your hard cock leak precum and you whimpering under your breath.

"k-keigo...please put it in."

"my pleasure baby." keigo said as he took off his pants to reveal the huge bulge he had.

he let out his cock and applied some lube on there before he slowly entered. he made sure to move slowly today, knowing you were tired and not in the mood for rough sex. despite hawks' slow thrusts you still felt like heaven.

your groans became more consistent and both of you knew that each other were getting close. you held in hawks for a kiss and he delivered. while kissing, hawks sped up his thrusts and stroked you cock gently. you came not long after hawks started to tend to your cock and he followed up with that by cumming inside you.

you guys stayed in that position for a bit, panting, trying to catch your breathes.

"you felt so good baby you know that?" hawks said while cupping your face.

you returned his compliment with a gentle kiss on the lips as he yet again snuggled into you.

"let's clean now alright? i'm sure you'll love the dinner i made for you today."

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sugcrxspice · 7 months ago

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Eyes lighting up in amusement at the jest about her wording making them sound like greasers from a period movie, Ava laughed loudly, their desire to avoid the gaze of onlookers taking a momentary backseat to the jovial comradery of the exchange. "Hey, with all the weird shit going on around here, is a nineteen fifties gang really that out of place? We've already got bikers openly running around this place, my own brother included. What's stopping us from starting our very own T-Birds and Pink Ladies?" As far as the strange elements in her hometown, Ava didn't even know the half of it, blissfully unaware of the supernatural forces at play in her own backyard. But it wasn't horribly out of character for the hairdresser to be a little too lost in her little world to notice things beyond her own lived experiences.

None the wiser to Bryn's own desire to stay moving, the blonde merely followed his lead, content to simply fall in with their new objective of scoping out unsuspecting targets to pelt with snow. Glancing around the area to make sure that they weren't attracting suspicion (just two people making snowballs, nothing to see here), Ava snorted at his teasing remarks. "Oh, you have no idea the amount of times I've wished my hair would glow every time I got angry, so I wouldn't be mad about that at all. Personally, I think it would suit me," she decided, small hands busy as she formed another ball of snow for their arsenal, making sure to pack it as tightly as she could manage.

"Ah, that's why you have to get on the king's good side. Make yourself indispensable, and then you don't have to worry about being replaced. Or, you know... killed," she reasoned, looking up from her task to meet her partner in crime's gaze, lips pursed together in thought. "Fair point. Who can really trust how long a monarch will reign nowadays? The people might turn on them too quickly," Ava mused, but her reverie didn't last long when faced with the ramifications of their plan of attack, brown eyes blown wide when Bryn swiftly hit the same target with a snowball of his own. "Nice shot!" she complimented in a low voice, but she didn't stop for long to celebrate, instead diving behind the nearest mound of snow big enough of hide her from view of the unsuspecting woman. "Shit. You think she saw us?"

At her comment of being one mind, he pointed to her for a moment, "See. Now you're thinking." He comments before bringing a hand to his chin, tapping a finger to it as he's thinking quietly. Bryn was still keeping vigilance around him, turning his head here and there, his eyes moving from here to there as he kept himself aware of his surroundings. A moment or so later, when she grinned at his comment of not being a rule follower, he smirked a bit and then made a face, looking a little perplexed for a moment. Her wording was found amusing to him, "No square? What is this, some kinda nineteen fifties greaser gangs, huh?" He laughed a bit at his attempt to replicate the accents from Grease.

Taking in a deep breath, he turned a bit, still looking around. Needing to move a little rather than just stand completely still. Bryn coughed a little bit, before clearing his throat and continuing to move from side to side, working out some energy buzzing through his body at the moment, shaking a little he moved his arms up and down, continuing to form a snowball and exhaling a breath. As Ava was talking, he nodded his head. Bryn sniffled slightly, then turned to Ava again, "You're full power? Like, what, a super saiyan?" He teases. Bryn squinted, glancing to one side, "Your hair is going to flash yellow, and we're going to see you start destroying the competition here."

Biting on his lips for a moment, he studied her a moment as she went on "True. But if they get too annoying, they also are very easily replaced, if the king demands!" Swallowing, he ducked his head, looking down then, "But we don't need to worry, since kings can be very short-lived." Lifting his gaze back up, he listened as she explained the battle plan and laughed faintly, "Sounds like a good plan, there. Alright. We prepare the snowballs, then we strike." A moment later when the first snowball hit, his mouth fell open "Oh! You got her!" He whispers to Ava under his breath before scrambling as the woman is still looking away, running to one side he throws his own snowball. It hit the woman in the back of her left shoulder. Bryn dropped behind a mound of snow then, hiding from the woman.

#( threads ) — bryn ravencroft

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xlovelyyoongix · 4 years ago

Text

wake up | myg

summary: reader wakes yoongi up in a special way.

paring: non-idolYoongi x Reader (established relationship)

rating: 18+ ONLY

genre: fluff, smut

w/c: 1k

warnings: cursing, oral sex, (m. receiving) switch reader, switch yoongi. (If you catch anything else I forgot to add, please don’t hesitate to let me know)

a/n: I wrote this in under an hour cuz ima hoe... 🤣 anyways, please enjoy 💕

Getting the chance to witness Yoongi as he slept was a rarity of its own. The raven-haired male was infamous for waking up before the early chirps of newborn birds and falling asleep only after you've drifted off into dreamland, so today was something special. Having him rest so soundly beside you, warm sunlight spilling across his flawless skin, and thick lashes soft against the apples of his cheeks as the rhythm of his faint breath exhaled past his lips.

"You're so beautiful." You soundly whisper, watching as Yoongi slowly began to wake from his slumber.

Your fingers begin to dance along the flesh of his ivory chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps down it’s path. The further you venture, the more you notice something twitching underneath the thin fabric of the sheets. "Oh," You giggle, eyes panning to the stiff erection, standing proudly beneath the linen.

"Baby~?" You mew softly, fingers trickling past his torso to the edge of his waistband. "Is this okay?"

Yoongi's lashes slowly begin to flutter open, tongue darting across his dry lips out of habit. It takes a moment for his vision to come to, but when it does, you're the first thing he sees. Your wild bedhead framing around your delicate face, eyes narrowed seductively low, and plump lips formed into the shape of a wicked smirk. It was then he noticed your hand, so dangerously close to the needy dick twitching in his boxers. "Please."

Never one to turn down your lover, your hand slips beneath the thin layer of fabric, immediately met with the heat of Yoongi's manhood. Your fingers find the thick base of his shaft, palming around the veiny, hot flesh.

Yoongi utters a grunt, stuttering his hips upward due to the bewitching sensation of your sweet touch. "You're always so sensitive when I touch you here." You giggle, palm slowly beginning to work up and down his shaft.

Yoongi's breath staggers in his throat, eyelids riding low as a familiar tightness begins to coil within the pit of his abdomen. "I-I had a dream..." He struggled to articulate his speech, your soft hand around his dick having an effect on him. "A-about you."

Your tongue flirtatiously darts across your bottom lip, "Oh, yeah?" you start with a smirk, antagonizing his sexual frustration. "What was your dream about, baby?" You squeeze your hand tighter, just how Yoongi liked it.

Yoongi's throat releases a hiss, eyelashes fluttering as he takes a nibble out of his lip." Y-you were s-sucking me o-of." He stuttered in the form of a slight pout, and fuck did you love it when he pouted. "B-but you didn't l-let me c-cum." Jet orbs glossing over

"Aww, that's so mean of me." You reply coyly, fingers teasing around his mushroom tip, massaging in his sticky pre-cum. "Do you think you deserve to cum, Yoongi?" you ask, toying with his dick as if it were your own personal plaything.

"I- I do deserve it." He finds the strength to say. "I'm a good m-man to you, aren't I?" He makes sure to add as if to plead his case.

"Yes, you're very good to me, Yoongi." His body shivers as you whisper into the shell of his ear. "So I'll give you what you want." After maneuvering under the sheets, you slowly peel back the waistband of Yoongi's boxers, allowing his tall erection to spring free. You lick your lips at the mighty sight, pre-cum glistening at the tip, healthy veins protruding from the sides, and a thickness that made you crave him even more. "You always look so yummy," You say, tongue darting out to collect the first taste of his red tip.

"Shit," Yoongi grunts, uncontrollably jolting his hips upward.

You were never one to leave your boyfriend unsatisfied, so opening your mouth wide and swallowing him whole was always the option with the best results. The tip of your nose reaches the forest of his pubic hair, tongue massaging the bottom of his shaft. The grunts and moans slipping past Yoongi's lips give the encouragement to hold your gag reflex, allowing you to relax your throat.

"Oh, fuck." Yoongi's hands move on their own, gripping the back of your hair to hold your mouth in place. With eyes rolled back, he's inching his shaft as far as it can reach. Your mouth feels immaculate around him, the thick wetness of your saliva and the tightness of your throat, fuck he could orgasm then and there. "C-can I...?" Yoongi mutters, almost too afraid to ask.

You know precisely what Yoongi means by his question; he wants to take control. The very thought of him using your mouth and throat for his sexual leisure causes a spike of pleasure to pulse between your thighs. So, of course, you nod to his request.

Gripping at the back of your hair tighter, Yoongi guides your hollowed-out mouth slowly up and down his thickness. "T-tap me if y-you need to b-breathe." He utters, eyes rolling back to the erotic sensation your hungry mouth was providing.

You nod to the suggestion but also know you won't be needing air anytime soon. After years of being with Yoongi, you've perfected the art of inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils.

"Shit, y-your mouth is so good." Yoongi stutters while you bob your head to the speed that he desired, erotic wet sounds exuded from beneath the sheets. "I-I fuckin love you." With every passing moment, the pulsing in Yoongi's dick intensifies along with the aching to release. "Wanna swallow for me, baby?"

You thought it cute that he even asked, and if his dick wasn't being shoved halfway down your esophagus, you would have giggled, but instead, you nod to his request.

"G-gotta see you," Yoongi yanks away the sheets, revealing your sexy mouth gobbling away at his dick, thick saliva collecting at the base of his shaft and your alluring, hazed eyes gazing up at him; his own personal goddess. "My sexy girl gonna take my load in her mouth? You gonna do that for me?"

You don't stop bobbing, sucking him all in as your eyes screamed the words, "yes, please."

As if on queue, the rubber band sensation, stretching in the pit of Yoongi's abdomen, finally snaps. "Oh, fuck!" He yells, holding your head in place to collect the large amount of cum releasing into your throat. He thrusts a few final times, colors exploding in his vision while riding the explosive high of his orgasm.

And just like he asked, you have no problem swallowing it all, gulping down the salty evidence of your boyfriend's orgasm, before your lips release the tip of his dick with a -pop-.

A satisfied smile gleams across Yoongi's rosy cheeks as he grabs your arm, gesturing you to lay beside him, "Come here."

Doing as you're told, your head plops into the pillow beside Yoongi's head, gazing into his glossy, hooded eyes.

"You're so fuckin perfect," Yoongi says, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead, thanking you for the happy ending he'd just received. "What do you want for breakfast?" his fingers stroking throughout your hair as he watched you in awe.

The light glaze of sweat glistening across Yoongi's skin and the softness in his deep, onyx eyes melted you inside. You loved him so much that after 2 years of being together, butterflies still managed to flutter in the pit of your stomach. "Pancakes!" You nearly shout, a bit too excited at the mention of breakfast.

Yoongi chuckles at your animated behavior. "Let's get showered, and then I'll make you a tall stack of pancakes." He watches as the excitement grows in your eyes, reminding him of the many reasons why he fell hard for you. "I love you." Yoongi manages to sneak in the phrase before you could respond.

Your heart did that thing where it nearly somersaulted out of your chest. How did you get so lucky to have such a beautiful, perfect man in your bed every morning? So, without hesitation, you respond, "I love you too, Min Yoongi."

date posted: 4-6-2020

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts smut #yoongi drabble #min yoongi drabble #bts drabble #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fan fiction #yoongi one shot #min yoongi one shot

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shlutnutt · 3 years ago

Text

What Makes You Beautiful / Cigarette Daydreams

technically starts out as a remake of the lady bird scene just with a little bit of ✨spice✨

warnings: none really, slight blood mention, smoking, insecurity mention

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As you rearranged the Vouge magazines, you can't help but to compare your own unique beauty to the models', increasing your insecurities more than usual. Your coworker noticed this and gave you a small pat on your back, assuring you that you were more than beautiful in his eyes. You looked back at him and gave a reasurring nod accompained with a fake smile, feeling guilty about the fact that you needed another soul but your own to make you feel beautiful.

"Alright miss, think you can maybe dump these outside while I stack these boxes up?" asked your manager, more of as a demand of course. You lost no time to build the courage to step out on your own, heading towards the garbage storage that stood across the street.

As you managed to make a step down the rusted stairs, you catch your gaze onto something else rather than your destination. A beautiful brunette man smoking a brand new cigarette caught your eye, making you drop the two black bags you had in hand watching them loudly roll over the stairs, producing a loud 'bang' sound to supress around your block.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" you yelped to yourself rushing down the steps to clean up the mess you've made, tangling your left foot in between some old discarded wires, making you fall atrociously.

You felt a precense infront of you, managing to lift your head up feeling a slight bit of blood drip from your nose. Although the sun rays brutally attacked your eyes you managed to recognize the man who stood infront of you.

"Shit. Are you okay?" the beautiful stranger asked, reaching his hand over to your foot to untangle the wires which produced your embarrassing fall. Feeling nothing but embarrassment, you looked up to the man and nodded softly, assuring him that you were in fact alright, wiping your bloody nose harshly.

"Here let me help you, sure you're okay?" he asked once again, as you gripped onto his hand and allowed him to help you. "yeah just a little blood, sorry." you apologized, wiping a little blood you've accidentally dropped onto his black jacket, him looking down at you with a rewarding smile.

"No, dont be sorry beautiful, this jacket needed a heavy wash anyway." he affirmed slightly unfolding a napkin he had hidden in his t-shirt pocket, attaching it to your face rapidly. You felt yourself grow nervous to the nickname he put on you, allowing him to brush away the slight amount of blood that ran through your nose.

Silence filled the air as you allowed the precious individual to clean you up, catching your gaze with his own delicate one. He gracefully swiped the napkin up and down your face, making sure he cleaned up every little bit of blood and dirt that attached onto it, his fingertips swaying delicately on your cheeks, him concentrating deeply into his work.

"Want a cigarette?" the stranger asked to break the silence, you nodded slightly not breaking the staring contest you witheld, knowing well that you haven't smoked a thing in your life. Accepting your answer he reached into his internal jacket pocket and pulled out a worned out cigarette box, grabbing a single cigarette in between his huge fingers and placing it onto your lips, you taking the sign and sucking it in your mouth.

Didn't take long for him to reach in his pocket once again to pull out a well sticker decorated lighter, using his palm to block out the wind, lighting it softly onto the cigarette you held in between your lips.

You immediately inhaled the smoke, mimicking his previous actions, to catch yourself gasping for air as you choked on the smoke you had in mouth, him removing the cigarette you had in mouth instantly in worry.

"Woah, woah!" he chuckled, watching as you coughed desperately nearly throwing up to the horrendous taste, suddenly feeling his soft pale hands reach in gripping onto your hair in hopes of preventing any puke to ruin it.

"Maybe it would've helped to let me know you've never smoked before." he proceeded to fool around letting your hair ago as you spit repeatedly onto the ground, turning back up to face him.

"I know, its jus-"

"Were you trying to impress me?"

"N-no what?"

"Shh.. don't worry, I can teach you."

You blushed to yourself to the way you were being spoken to, almost completely certain you were being flirted with, you built the strength to return the energy saying "you teach me then." Clearly catching him by surprise from the slight raise of eyebrows that came out of him, as he cleaned up the cigarette you nearly threw up on, lighting it up once again.

"Here, open your mouth." you do as you're told, feeling his cigarette breath tickle your nose once again. Him gliding the cigarette pass the entrance of your mouth and lifting your chin up to it slightly, signiling you to press your lips together around the cigarette, which you did. "Now, take a hit." he instructed, as your face grew with confusion.

"What's a hi-"

"Just inhale a little of smoke, but exhale it afterwards, okay? " he continued his unhealthy lesson, you following his every instruction, nodding softly.

"Good girl." he pronounced, making you pause and shift your gaze back into his eyes, accidentally blowing all the smoke onto his face in surprise. Thankfully he only laughed at your clumsiness, removing the cigarette from your mouth to not produce a bad unhealthy habit. Now taking the same cigarette extracted from your lips into his own, he grabbed onto your waist and demonstrated a few smoke tricks.

"Y/N! I told you to take out the trash not flirt with the first person you see." yelled out your manager from the bodega window in fluster, snapping his fingers for you accelerate your movements.

"Hmm.. so you're y/n? Im Kyle. Nice to meet you smoke virgin." Kyle teased, kissing the sweet spot of your neck before storming off in the black nissan he arrived in, before handing you the leftover pack of cigarettes you two smoked from.

You only waved him goodbye, holding onto the cigarette box tightly, just to feel a piece of crumbled up paper. Letting curiosity get the best of you, you managed to uncrumble the piece of paper, to discover an usual number with a small distorted winky face suited on it.

" ***-***-**** ;)"

making another part i guess lmao

taglist: @divineruler @thatspookyagent @copy-of-a-cheeto @booboomother @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood @crssjjh @myriadofcranes

#timothee chamalet #kyle scheible #lady bird #fluff #writers on tumblr #timothee imagine

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cheelduh · 4 years ago

Text

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

#childe x reader #genshin oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #genshin imagines #childe #tartagila #kaeya alberich #fanfic #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia

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