#how does it feel to be this fucking stupid

[viiioca]

i love heavensward: a series of bulletin points

your last ally in all the city-states is an elf who would unironically lick the sweat from your armpits in front of the entire congregation. he begs his dad to let you couch surf. one of his brothers admits to your face that he wished you would die

two members of the swiss guard arrest your children so you punch them in the neck until the judge says you're free to go. the pope personally calls you to apologize for the trouble

ilberd tries and fails to hotbox you to death

a hot elf wife takes you on vacation to a nest full of cool bugs

anytime there's a serious moment estinien challenges the tone of the scene by pulling a giant novelty eyeball out of his pants which is played 100% straight every single time. not a single soul questions this or reacts in surprise

the prettiest elf in the world gets arrested trying to yell at his dad

Occupy The Vatican Right Fucking Now!!!!

the pope stances on the deck of an airship and flies away into the sunset after his eunuch traumatizes you

the emperor of garlemald shows up to call you a dipshit, leaves, and then you don't see him personally again for 1.5 expansion packs

we summon a naked catgirl and the first thing tataru does is give her a pair of louboutins and put a bow on her little kitty tail. she is the most deadly serious person in the entire organization

you take a quick detour to visit the angriest woman who's ever lived who calls you and everyone you're with a pointless dumbfuck moron shit idiot (affectionate). then she gives you a gun she invented that sharlayan banned for being too cool

theres a flying allagan war crimes factory full of broken robots who think you're stupid. an entire legion of garleans are abandoned here to form a feral colony with the escaped lab animals. the robots make fun of them

the dad of all the dragons on the whole planet calls you his favorite in front of his real child who he hasnt talked to in 4000 years

an evil wizard tries to get revenge on you for killing his cousin but the pope loads his soul into a bong and takes the fattest rip. the next time you meet him you mostly learn about how much his wife bullied him

estinien picks up a second eyeball. surprise development!: there is an angry dragon ghost living in the eyeballs

thancred gets punched in the face

you watch two dragon brothers fight because one called the other's dead wife a foul and trifling hoe

you save your friend through the power of friendship, and littering. as soon as he feels better he jumps out of a window and doesnt talk to you for two years

the guy from the box art wont stop trying to kill you because he is actually john videogames: astral traveler

after 15 hours of wondering what happened to all the scions and learning just the ones you've been able to FIND were flung into the afterlife, you discover lyse and papalymo are fine. they werent even hurt. they have been playing desert dress up with the ala mhigans while youve been freezing your pussy off trying to end a multigenerational religious war with the dragons and depose a corrupt head of state. they tried to send one letter and then gave up

the consequences of littering catch up with you. in eorzea, the fine is $Giant Dragon

[gothgoblinbabe]

Love Game

[Logan Howlett x afab!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, afab reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

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“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different. 

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“ 

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

[citricacidprince]

I wanted to ask if you can make a doodle of that drifting star gravity falls au but it’s relativity falls. Stan gets sucked into the portal and Dipper has to take care of him.

Took a hot second but I finally did it!!!

This family makes me wanna lose my mind I adore them so so much <333

(Sorry it’s a bit messy and clunky, my brain is fried atm lol)

Notes under cut!

I like to think that Dipper is oh so tired and is trying so hard to find a way to kill Bill so he can get back home to his sister as fast as he possibly can that he’s sooooo willing to aim guns at people. Like sure a laser gun works fine most of the time, but it’s soooo much easier to bring lead to a knife fight, ya know?

Stanley would think Dipper is so fucking cool and Dipper has to do a double take because no one has ever called him cool and meant it

Stanley is wearing a mini version of his homeless hoodie, as a treat :]

Mabel was inconsolably crying for a hot second after this all happened and Stanford was utterly pissed and in denial, weakly kicking her and hitting her with his little baby arms to bring his brother back

Mabel manages to reverse engineer the memory gun to erase the government agents minds, but unlike Dipper, who could’ve done it in 5 minutes tops, it takes her about an hour, so she tells Stanford about her brother Dipper and everything that happened while she does so

While doing this she asked Boyish Dan to block the door and gave him permission to beat up anyone who tried to get in, something the concussed teen was very happy to hear

They manage to buy time, and thankfully Mabel already knows how to open the portal again, but it’s gonna take a week or two maximum to get it fully running again

Stanford is still very very pissed, but it’s a silent and resigned anger aimed at Mabel. She lied to them all summer, she not who she said she was, she won’t stop apologizing when she looks at him now, how could he not be mad?

Besides it’s easier to be mad when the alternative is being so sad you feel nauseous over the fact your brother is missing, you have no clue if he’s okay or even alive, and every passing moment is making you regret trying to push him away all summer because you miss his stupid jokes and laughter and antics so bad it makes you steal all the blankets off his bed and praying to something, anything, that he’s going to be okay so you can just hug him one more time.

Mabel isn’t doing very well either. She completely locked down the Shack until she can bring Stanley and Dipper home. She told Dan and Anjelita that they didn’t have to come to work, something Anjelita gladly accepted, while Dan insisted that he could help. After all you expect him to go home and be normal about this later??? He got a concussion and punched an FBI agent so hard he passed out. He’s in this for the long haul.

I don’t want Stanley and Dipper stuck in that portal for longer than a week, because even if Mabel and Ford opening that portal again would cause Weirdmageddon they don’t care in the slightest, they just want their brothers to come home

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 2

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who's not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.1k Words

Part 1

School assemblies were fun in their own way. You weren’t exactly brimming with school spirit but you could fake it for a half-hour when it got you out of your History class. Everyone was ushered into the gym at the end of the day to celebrate the sport season. You had no idea if the Hawkin’s Tigers were good or not, you could really only name two and a half people on the basketball team: Jason Carver, who you unfortunately had shared a free period with once, Lucas Sinclair, who you had seen talking to Eddie once in a blue moon, and Steve Harrington who had graduated, so he didn’t really count. You vaguely remembered working with him on some school project for two days and thinking that you just wanted to squish his hair down to see if it would spring back up. 

Stacy bounded over to you in the bleachers, decked out in more Tiger’s Green than a leprechaun. She shook the scrunchy out of her hair and slipped it onto your wrist. You sometimes wondered how she never became a cheerleader with how perky she was.

“There, now you look like you tried.” she giggled, nudging you. 

“I was gonna scribble on my face with a green dry erase marker, but Mr. Thompson’s had run dry.” You said. 

“He was probably lying so you wouldn’t steal one and huff it in the bathroom.” 

“Hey, that was one time and 4th grade math was hard.” you cackled. 

“Speaking of hard drugs, look who decided to actually show up.” Stacy smirked and your stomach instantly dropped as you followed her gaze. 

“What the fuck is Eddie doing here?” you whispered to Stacy. “He doesn’t do pep rallies!”

“Guess he does now.” she shrugged. 

Eddie was a few rows lower than you, leaning against the end railing of the bleachers. You vaguely wondered if he was burning up in that leather jacket, it wasn’t exactly cool in the gym with so many bodies all squished together. 

He was alone, looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You didn’t blame him, this clearly wasn’t a place where he fit in. You looked down the bleachers in the opposite direction, unable to pick out any of his friends. During pep rallies, the bleachers were divided by grade, with Seniors on your end of the bleachers, and freshmen on the opposite end. Maybe Eddie was pressing himself against the railing to create his own section of Super Seniors. 

If he was anyone else, you’d join him in that section, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. 

“He looks lonely, go talk to him before they start.” Stacy encouraged. 

“Please, I doubt he’d want to talk to me at any other time. You think he wants to talk to me now?” you asked incredulously. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“He could convince me to join a cult and then sacrifice me to the dark forces.” you said, looking over at him. Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he whirled around. Out of everyone around, his eyes immediately locked onto yours. 

Oh shit.

He heard that. 

His round brown eyes sized you up, and you cringed out of embarrassment for your stupid joke. You felt like a deer in the headlights. Eddie was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time and you were about two seconds away from jumping off the back of the bleachers and tunneling your way out of the school. 

Next to you, you could practically feel Stacy shaking as she tried to hold in her laughter, which unfortunately, triggered your own set of nervous giggling because this whole thing was so stupid and Eddie was still looking at you. 

He looked unimpressed, and flipped you off before turning back around to sulk against the railing again as the band suddenly started up, and everyone started cheering for the team. 

“Gotta say, I am nailing this, Stacy.” You laughed, leaning against her shoulder. “Practically had the boy swooning.”

“Yeah, he’ll be asking you out any day now.” She rubbed your back sympathetically. 

“I can’t believe he heard me. He totally thought I was being serious.” Your giggles finally subsided and you looked up at her. 

“It would be very easy to clear this up, if you’d just talk to him.” She said. 

“I don’t like it when you’re rational, you know.” you replied and glanced at him again. Eddie was no longer looking at you and was just fiddling with his rings as he watched boredly as Principal Higgens was giving announcements. 

You had to apologize. The last thing you wanted was for Eddie to think that you were really like that. You didn’t buy into the bullshit that some dice and graph paper could damn your soul to hell. 

“Fuck it, I’m going in.” you said, and turned to head towards Eddie. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” 

You made your way to the edge of the bleachers, and three things happened in quick succession. First, Miles Cooper got overly enthusiastic as you passed by him, and his elbow made a quick and sharp connection to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. The second thing that happened was a stray backpack got kicked right in front of you as you staggered from the shock of being elbowed. The third and final thing was you falling down the two benches of bleachers that separated you and Eddie. 

“You can either go to the pep rally and act like you are a part of this school, or you can have detention, Mr. Munson. The choice is yours.” 

Normally, no one gave a shit if Eddie skipped out on something like a pep rally. That time was better spent either reading in an empty classroom or as a smoke break in the parking lot. He had just made it out to the parking lot before he was spotted and given the option. Eddie had been good about not skipping class this year, but he really didn’t want to give Higgins another reason to threaten to withhold his diploma. 

So there he was, leaning against the railing of the furthest bleachers so that the second the pep rally ended, he could just book it back to the van and leave to.. Somewhere. Uncle Wayne had work, and Eddie didn’t have a shift at the Hideout. There was no Hellfire today. 

Eddie was feeling restless as he fidgeted with his rings. Today had already been annoying and he really just wanted to sneak out to his van and have a smoke. It’s not like anyone here would miss him, they’d probably celebrate his departure more than the entrance to the basketball team. 

He looked down at his hands, taking his rings off and rearranging them on his fingers. He tapped them on the railing, listening to the sounds they made as he counted the seconds for this whole thing to be over. 

As his mind started to wander off, a voice snapped him back to the hell he was currently in. “-join a cult and sacrifice me to the dark forces.” 

It was always obvious when someone was talking about Eddie. Normally he’d let it go and ignore whoever it was, but he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods today. His head whipped around, looking for whoever was talking about him. 

There you were with Stacy, again. Eddie wished he could be surprised, but he wasn’t. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over. You weren’t dressed in anything that screamed “school spirit” except for a scrunchie around your wrist. 

He saw how you cringed at the sight of him, which only pissed him off more. What was your fucking problem? You were friends with Stacy, who had been on the cheer squad before her ankle gave out, the skaters liked, you liked everyone. Everyone who wasn’t Eddie Munson. 

Eddie had wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, that maybe the two of you just hadn’t crossed paths enough. Maybe it wasn’t personal. But now, after hearing you say that you also thought he was some sort of demon worshiping freak he was fine to write you off as just another Hawkins student. Maybe then he could finally move past this weird feeling he had whenever you gave him the stink eye. 

Stacy started giggling next to you, and Eddie just rolled his eyes and turned away. It wasn’t worth it to start anything now at the pep rally. He was already on thin ice after being caught trying to skip. The sooner this was over the better. 

His attention drifted as Higgins droned on and on about school spirit and upcoming fundraisers and games. It was all background noise. In his mind, Eddie was working out the next dungeon that Hellfire was going to take on. His party was getting too used to his usual tricks, so he’d have to pull out something new to really throw them off-

There was a choked off gasp. 

Then a curse. 

Then a horrible cracking sound as something fell next to him.

“Jesus-!” Eddie jumped nearly a foot in the air as you hit the bleacher next to him. His eye nearly bugged out as he saw you sprawled next to him, clutching your stomach and gasping for air like a fish. 

Everyone in the section was still as they all stared at you, before a few started to snicker. Stacy was quick to jump down with far more grace and land by your side. Eddie was completely frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard Miles Cooper say- 

“It was Munson! He did it!”

Eddie’s head snapped to Miles, about to say something before a teacher sharply demanded the Eddie get off the bleachers and come down for what was sure to be a one-sided lecture and detention for something he didn’t do. 

He didn’t fight it, he was about to argue and cause a scene right now in the bleachers. Not when that teacher had a fire in her eyes that said she was just itching for trouble. Fine, he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. 

Eddie walked down the bleachers and followed the teacher out into the hallway. He was already tuning out the lecture about watching your body and not hitting girls. This was such bullshit, and he knew he couldn’t even fight back and defend himself. 

“Look, I didn’t touch her!” Eddie couldn’t stop the frustration in his voice. “She was behind me when she fell!”

“Witnesses say otherwise.” The teacher crossed her arms. 

“Look, just because that dumbass said it was true-” 

There was a loud CLANK as the heavy doors to the gym burst open and to Eddie’s surprise, you were rushing through the door, holding onto your arm. 

You made a beeline for him and the teacher and Eddie could already see it now. Your fake tears as you cried about how the freak shoved you down for no reason-

“Didn’t... do it.” you were shaking your head and panting hard. With your free hand you were pointing at Eddie. “He didn’t... he didn’t do anything... Miles elbowed me. Then I tripped. Eddie never.... Touched me.” 

Stacy was behind you and grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you in place. “Eddie didn’t do anything, Mrs. Jane.” she explained. “She was just trying to go get some water and ate shit. Eddie had nothing to do with it.”

You nodded, still panting hard as if trying to catch your breath. Stacy was rubbing your back, and you looked like you were on the verge of tears. 

Eddie felt like he had just stepped into an alternate timeline. You were actually defending him? You were in that much pain but had still come running to claim his innocence? 

Mrs. Jane looked at you with concern. “Eddie, you may go back to the pep rally.” She dismissed him without so much as an apology for chewing him out. 

Fuck this. Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way back towards the gym, but slipped into a side hall. The pep rally was going to be over soon anyway, he might as well beat traffic. 

He paused just as he was out of sight. Fine, he was a little nosey and mildly concerned as you had just come to his rescue. 

“I... I think I hurt my arm.” you said, and he could hear the real pain in your voice. 

“I’ll take her to the nurse.” Stacy said. 

Eddie heard the sound of footsteps, and quickly slipped out of the school before Mrs. Jane caught him escaping. 

Yeah, he was going to need something stronger than a cigarette after this. 

I really didn't think the original blurb would get much attention lol

Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

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@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart

[tan1shere]

I'm Sorry

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: saw this video on tiktok of this girl accidentally breaking a gift her bf got her and her being so apologetic, and I can just imagine how bill would be with you:(

Summary: Billie reassures you when you accidentally break her gift.

Warnings: none just fluff ! Kinda angst tho ??

Masterlist

It was time again. Your birthday, just another year of getting older. You were currently laying in bed, half asleep as the sun was shining through the curtains. You then feel hands on your shoulders. "Babyy, its your birthday!" Billie sings as she says that. You cover your face. "Does it have to be." She plops down on the bed. "Oh come on, it's not every day you're 21!" You open an eye to see she had a few gifts. Your other eye opens as you look at her. "Bubba, I thought we agreed on two at most." She puts her finger up to your lips. "I couldn't help myself."

You sigh with a bright smile, sitting up to prepare for her little gifts. She hands you the first one, some clothes you had been wanting. Next up, some skin care. She was always so thoughtful of the things you needed. And lastly, maybe your favorite. You open up the wrapping revealing a glass red rose. You marvel at it. "I know how much you love roses and how upset you get when they start to die, but this way you can have it all the time." She smiles at you. Your eyes meet hers as you almost have tears in them. You leap over to hug her tightly.

"Thank you baby! I love it so so much." She smiles. "Knew you would." Her hands grab your face, thumb swiping over your cheek. "Happy birthday angel." She leans in to kiss you softly, so glad you like the gifts. "Some of them came from your mother. I put them in a vase already for you." You then kiss her cheek, placing the glass rose down on the bedside table. "Thank you babe, I'll go smell them soon."

A few days pass and you honestly had the best birthday ever, Billie was spoiling you like crazy. Took you out for a nice meal too. Today you were working from home, doing some needed chores along the way. Bill was at Finneases working on some stuff in his studio. You did take a small break though. Getting into bed and scrolling for a glass case to put around your new gift. Just to make sure it's safe. You go to grab your water, but as you do. Eyes glued to your screen. You hear a shatter. Uh oh. Your head turns slowly.

Panic rising within you. "Fuck. No no no." You say frantically trying not to freak out. You get on the floor picking up the pieces. Shit. It was really broken. You cry. Cry because you broke the sweetest gift, given by the sweetest person and you broke it. You curse at yourself. You feel so stupid. You're an idiot your brain tells you.

How.

Could.

You.

You grab the pieces, but as you do you accidentally cut your finger. "Shit!" You winced. How could this get any worse. You pick up any remaining shards. Standing up and contemplating. She was gunna hate you. You thought. You don't blame her, you had only just got it. Your hands go to your hair, all these bad thoughts rushing through. You were going to have a shower after you got the case. But now you don't even need the case because you stupidly broke the rose. So. Stupid. Your tears still streaming down your face, you felt so awful. The image of Billie being so hurt right after she was so excited giving it to you.

You get into the shower, sliding down the wall. All you could think about was how she was going to react when she comes home. The hot water ran over your crying form. You hadn't even heard the front door open and Billie calling out like she always does. Until you hear faint footsteps and the bathroom door open. "Baby?" Had she seen it yet...

"Y-yeah.." You reply, she opens up the curtain to see you in the position you were in. Confused as anything. "What's going on love?" She always knew when something was bothering you. "I'm so sorry." You pathetically cry out. "Baby, talk to me." She says stopping the water from running. You just shake your head, lip quivering. "Sweetheart, please." You take a moment. "Don't hate me." You weakly say. "How could I ever?" Her bewilderment made your heart ache more for what you are about to tell her.

"Go look on my bedside floor." Your voice was hushed. So incredibly worried as she goes to do so. Her eyes land on the last little bits of glass, looking at the shattered mess on your table. Her heart breaks, but not because you broke it and most definitely by accident. It was because you were so upset, she hated seeing you upset. She comes back in the room to you still in tears. "Bub, hey. It's ok." - "it's not. Im so sorry I'm so-" She stops your apologies. "Baby. We can fix it. It's fixable. And if not I'll just buy you another. I swear to you. It's all ok."

Her voice was tender. So soft and reassuring. Your crying settles just a bit. "Are you sure?" She nods. "So incredibly sure. I'm not mad my girl, never ever would be." Her hand extends out for yours. You take it and get out of the shower. "Are you hurt?" You pout at how sweet she was, you loved this woman to absolute death. "What?" She chuckles. You just shake your head. "Youre just so kind, I love you." She brings you in for a hug, you wrap your arms tightly around her. She couldn't give a single fuck that your body was dripping wet.

It lasted for a long time, before she pulls back and looks at you. "I did just a tiny bit but I'm ok." You state. "Where abouts?" You show her the red mark on your thumb, she grabs it. Bringing it to her lips as kissing it gently. "Like I said before if we can't fix it I'll buy a new one, this time with a case."

"Great idea."

[wonhes]

WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE. sohee gets …. excited 😁 sohee and reader are horny for each other, sexual jokes, making out uhhh there’s probably more but i can’t remember ?? no smut though just suggestive 👍

☁︎ — JUNE 28TH, 2024 6:41 PM

pulling out his phone, SOHEE quickly sends out one last text before stuffing his phone back in his pocket. not even a minute goes by when hears loud shuffling. he then finds himself smiling fondly at the thought of you rushing down the stairs to come greet him.

“i’m coming!” you yell out a handful of times as you run down the stairs. when finally downstairs, you rub your clammy palms on the front of your shorts. bringing a hand up, you shuffle to fix your hair one last time before eagerly opening the door.

“h-hi,” you breathe out as you stare at the sweet boy in front of you. trying your best to ignore your rapid beating heart, you offer sohee a soft smile. 

“hi,” sohee instantly responds back. with his heart skipping a beat at the sight of you, he breathlessly stares back at you. as you both try and ignore your fast beating hearts, you continue to stare at one another before erupting in giggles. feeling butterflies in his stomach, sohee looks away from you for a split second to try and keep his composure.

“come in,” you finally speak up once again, slightly stepping out of the way to make room for sohee to enter. 

nodding his head at your words, sohee steps in and takes off his shoes. he lets out a shaky sigh as he continues walking towards your living room. pouting, you take his wrist in your hand to try and stop him from walking. at the feeling of your hand on his wrist, sohee quickly turns back to you. tilting his head at you with a confused expression, he waits for you to speak. 

“i was thinking,” you mumble, suddenly feeling small. “we could hang out in my room?” you quickly finish off as you stare up at sohee with wide eyes. 

“yn-” 

“we’re just watching a movie!” you immediately cut off his protests. “i promise— my friends and i hang out in my room all the time!” you try and reassure him.

“i-” sohee starts but quickly stops at the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. “okay,” sohee defeatedly states as he hangs his head low, disappointed in himself for quickly giving in to you.

smiling brightly at him, you pull him towards the stairs and lead him up to your roon. turning to sohee once again, you send him another brief smile his way as you slowly move your hand from his wrist to intertwine your fingers with his. without thinking twice, sohee instantly relaxes his hand on your hold and gives your hand a soft squeeze.

in complete horror, sohee does a double take as he stares down at your hands. feeling betrayed by his own body, he couldn’t help but let a pout take over his features. snap out of it, sohee he keeps mumbling to himself but there’s no use. you turn to look at him once more before opening your bedroom door and sohee knows he’s done for.

 “i’m so fucking screwed,” sohee whispers out to himself as you lead him to take a seat on your bed.

☁︎ — JUNE 28TH, 2024 6:53 PM (suggestive pls skip if not of age)

staying true to your word, you did put on a movie. however, sohee was not fucking paying attention at all. honestly, he has no clue on what you even put on. you kept taking up sohee’s mind. you and the way you’re just sitting there attentively watching the scenes unfold. you as giggle at something stupid the protagonist said. you as you shyly follow his lead and scoot closer to him every so often.

you. you. you. that’s all sohee can think about. you and how every time your shoulders brush, he swears he feels a spark. you two are sitting way too close and sohee will take the blame because he did initiate it but how could he not? you’re all that he wants. it’s only reasonable for him to want you so close.

at the feeling of your shoulder accidentally brushing his once again, sohee’s mind quickly goes blank as his breath hitches.

with trembling hands, sohee lets out a shaky breath as he tries calming his quickly beating heart. physically shaking his head, sohee tries to make his thoughts come to a halt. blankly staring up at the television, sohee finds himself trying to scoot closer to you. this unspoken game you two have going on will be the death of him, he thinks. painfully biting his lip, sohee lets out another shaky sigh.

“are you okay?” you ask, eyeing sohee as he tightly shuts his eyes. 

“mhm,” sohee instantly responds back. hesitantly opening his eyes, he turns to look at you to offer you a small tight lipped smile. immediately shutting his eyes once again, he tries to gain his composure. it’s not his fault! he didn’t realize how close your faces would be. fuck, fuck, fuck he keeps mentally repeating to himself. he really shouldn’t have opened his eyes.

“you sure?” you innocently ask him, causing sohee’s brain to continue spiraling. opening his eyes to look at you, sohee begins slowly nodding his head at you. in complete silence, the younger boy continues to eyeing you. taking in all of your features, sohee finds himself staring at your eyes before moving down to stare at your lips for a brief second. 

“oh, fuck this,” sohee mumbles as he places a hand under your chin to slightly tilt your head. without another thought in mind, sohee immediately leans in towards you. closing the gap between you two, sohee works his lips against your own.

at the feeling of his warm and soft lips against yours, you let out a small satisfied sigh. instantly closing your eyes, you place a hand on the back of sohee’s head to gently play with his hair. as you continue feeling his soft and sweet lips against your own, you slightly part your lips to allow his tongue to slip inside.

unspokenly, sohee then places a hand on your waist as he guides you to lay on your back. once your back hits the mattress, you let out a small whine causing sohee to dazedly say your name. breathing heavily as your lips continue to urgently press against one another, you find yourself slowly opening your legs to allow sohee to press his body on top of yours. at the feeling of sohee’s body now hovering yours, you wrap your legs around his waist. bringing a hand to the collar of his shirt, you pull at it causing him to stumble towards you.

“fuck,” sohee whispers out against your lips. resting his forehead against yours, sohee stops kissing you as he tries to catch his breath. letting out a loud whine in protest, you chase after his lips.

“i missed you,” sohee sighs out, pressing another kiss on your lips. “so much.”

“yeah?” you whisper back. with hooded eyes, sohee nods at you as he continues to try to regulate his breathing. looking down at his lips, you bring a finger to trace the outline of his lips.

“show me how much-” not allowing you to finish your sentence, sohee cuts you off by placing his lips over your own. 

giggling at his eagerness, you find yourself kissing him back as your hands begin roaming his body. whimpering at your touch, sohee breaks the kiss as he looks at you with wide eyes. 

“baby?” you questioned, placing both hands on his cheeks to softly caress him. “what’s wrong?”

“can i?” sohee softly whispers back to you with pleading eyes. 

“can you what?” you confusedly ask, not really understanding what he was trying to say. as his cheeks begin to heat up, sohee awkwardly shifts in his spot as he continues to look at you with pleading eyes. 

“please,” he softly mumbles once again. still not understanding, you eye him as you encourage him to elaborate.

too embarrassed to say it out loud, sohee continues to stare at you with pleading eyes. placing a hand on your thigh, sohee softly caresses your thigh with his thumb as he slowly moves his hand against your skin. looking back at you once again, sohee stops his actions, “was that okay?”

“baby,” you delicately whisper out. “are you trying to ask if you can touch me?” 

too embarrassed to speak, sohee hides his head on neck as he nods at your words. giggling at his reaction, you bring your hand on top of his and place it back on your thigh. at the sudden feeling, sohee moves away from your neck to look down at you with wide eyes. nodding your head at him, you slightly lean forward to capture his lips against yours once more. 

“you can,” you breathlessly state. not letting a second pass by, sohee quickly begins roams his hands all over your body. pressing his body even closer to yours, he brings a hand towards yours and places it against his chest; silently encouraging you to roam your hands all over his body like you were previously doing before.

“we- we should stop,” you whisper out, breaking the kiss to try and catch your breath. nodding his head at you, sohee begins placing open mouthed kisses on your neck. shutting your eyes at the feeling, you slightly tug on the back of his hair to try and calm yourself down.

“we should,” sohee agrees, nodding at you. pulling himself away from your neck, sohee breathlessly looks at you. at the sight of his puffy red lips, you giggle while you place a delicate kiss on his lips before working your way down to his neck. “fuck.”

JUNE 28TH, 2024 7:31 PM (suggestive pls skip if not of age)

“b-baby,” sohee tries speaking. he doesn’t know how or when it happened but somehow you both switched and now you’re the one on top of him. closing his eyes, sohee finds himself trying to distract his thoughts. desperately trying to think of anything else other than the fact of you on top of him. sohee immediately shuts his eyes as he tries to concentrate on something else.

“fuck, i’m okay,” sohee whispers out, trying to regain his composure. “i’m fine, i’m okay.”

“i don’t know, you feel a little excited if you ask me,” you teasley say back. at your words, sohee feels his cheeks heat up. shaking his head at you, he quickly begins trying to explain himself.

defeatedly, sohee sighs as he breaks eye contact with you. “i’m sorry, i’ve been making out with my pretty girl for like an hour. how am i supposed to react?” sohee mumbles out, pouting as he continues to avoid your eye contact. giggling at his reaction, you shift in your spot to speak. 

“fuck, baby. please don’t do that,” sohee hisses out, placing his hands on your hips to stop you from moving any further. shutting his eyes, he once again tries to think of anything else. 

“talk about anton or something,” sohee pleads out, eyes still screwed shut as he continues to try and concentrate. 

“baby-”

“don’t call me that right now,” sohee pleads once more causing you to chuckle at him.

“okay, i’m okay,” sohee breathes out, slowly opening his eyes. at the sight of you staring down at him with adoration written all over your eyes, he instantly shuts his eyes once again. “nope, i’m not okay.”

JUNE 28TH, 2024 7:45 PM

feeling the racing of your heart, you play with sohee’s hair as you place a delicate kiss on his nose. pouting at you, sohee shakes his head at you. 

“you missed,” sohee pouts out, pointing at his lips insinuating you to go ahead and try again. smiling fondly at him, you shake your head to tease him causing him to become even poutier. with your heart now picking up in speed again, you softly caress sohee’s cheek causing him to send you a warm smile. 

“what is my pretty girl thinking about?” sohee asks, turning his head to place a soft kiss on your fingertips. 

“i think i’m in love with you,” you shyly admit. 

“w-what?” sohee asks, wide eyed; wanting nothing more than for you to repeat those words again and again. 

“scratch that,” you shake your head at him. “i know i’m in love with you.”

“b-baby–”

“everything about you drives me crazy,” you state while looking directly at him. “the thought of forever losing you makes me sick to my stomach—“ you continue. “i can’t sleep at night if you don’t say goodnight. if you don’t wish me a good morning, my day will actually be ruined.”

“even before we talked— every time i heard anton talking to his friends, i secretly hoped you were here,” you hesitantly admit to him. “i’ve realized that i’ve liked you for so long but i always pushed it aside because you were anton’s best friend but—” you look at him with watery eyes. “i always wanted to be around you. every time i would tweet, i secretly waited for you to respond. i always hoped i would accidentally bump into you on campus— i wanted to get to know you but i felt like i was in the wrong for having those feelings towards you because you were my little brother’s best friend.”

“that’s why it didn’t take long for me to completely fall for you, sohee.” you admit as you shyly smile down at him. “because you’ve always had me.”

“you, sohee.” you whisper out. “it’s always been you.” you finish off as you lean forward to place a sweet kiss on his lips.

“i love you,” you state.

“i love you so fucking much,” sohee whispers back as he lets the tears fall down his cheeks. leaning forward, he passionately captures your lips on his once more.

“i love you, i love you—“ sohee keeps repeating over and over again as he places sweet kisses all over your face. “i’m in love with you. i love you—“

giggling you let SOHEE continue to kiss your face before speaking, “will you please be my boyfriend again?"

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

CHAPTER 47 — i love you

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

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[linopilled]

⟡ cw: chris hitting it from the back n gripping your cute lil face. afab reader implied but no gender specific pronouns used. dumbification!!! one (1) use of daddy. 2 lil cheek taps. chris going into domspace & being a meanie so degradation warning (he says slut like once but he does call you stupid lol.)

⟡ a/n: when i tell you my fingers flew over these keys... here's a treat for giving my seungmin fic some luv! :* yk the drill, mdni. ageless & blank blogs dni.

husband!chris, ever so soft, attentive, and doting.

when describing him outside of an intimate setting the only thing you can ever talk about with your girls is how pure and consuming his love is for you. it's a relationship akin to one that feels like sunbathing in a beautiful, massive garden and being hand-fed grapes. but when he's got you in a position so vulnerable, like now, with your wrists clasped together behind your back in his hold, and he's so deep in your guts you feel like you're going to die in his arms, his hot and heavy cock abusing that sweet spot in your messy cunt with no restraint — gentleness is far from his demeanor.

you've been at it for hours. so much so your knees have indented it's place in the mattress, and his brutal pace is making it no better. you're sure you've got carpet burn at this point. your weak sobbing and incoherent wails begin sounding winded, and you struggle to gather air into your chest but he knocks the breath right out of your lungs almost immediately after every gasp you take. “fucking slut.” he sneers. he's in his zone. a usually hidden place chris only goes on special occasions you're in bed with him.

then he utters something. it's so muffled you can only feel the vibration of what he says and you barely make out any syllables.

“ — be the good girl you know you are and moan my name.” you miss the first half of his sentence again, completely zoned out and held prisoner to his thick cock in your cunt. struggling to speak, stammering over weak little whimpers, you manage to get out a small “ch — chris —,” but that's not what he's looking for you to call him.

he grips your cheeks in his palm, squishing them together and suddenly he's tilting your head back to force you to make eye contact. well, if you could even call it that; you can hardly see him through your blurry wet eyes. his thrusts slow and he's pressing all the way inside with a harsh jerk of his hips, balls pressed tightly against your throbbing clit, and you cant help but whine again, body trembling like a leaf. his gaze is pointed and you feel pinned to him, chris’s expression mimicking a scowl he's so focused on getting a response from you. “y’fucking stupid? that's not my name.”

your head is swimming, drool slipping down your chin and you babble wordlessly like some brain-dead toy, hips gyrating pathetically as you're trying your damnedest to get him to just move again.

“stop fucking squirming and listen.” he hisses, using that same palm that's currently holding your face in place, and tapping your cheek twice. enough to get you to focus, but not enough to hurt. he gives you a second sharp thrust as punishment, grip returning to your face. his hold on your cheeks are so tight, it's puckering your cute little lips. “i won't ask you again.”

“d-daddy!” you squeal, and a cocky grin takes it's place on his flushed face, his hips picking up speed.

atta-girl.

[piichuu]

AFTER LAUGHTER (COMES TEARS) - GOJO SATORU

WARNINGS: hurt to comfort, gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 906

you’re laying on the couch when your boyfriend arrives back home from a long day at work. he was called in early in the morning to exorcise curses before it was time to switch roles into a teacher and help his students at jujutsu high. now it’s late into the evening, and he has most likely not gotten the time to rest at all today.

“i’m home!” he says cheerfully, walking into the living room as you get up from the couch to greet him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “how was your day?” you ask, pulling away a little to look at his face, brushing your fingers through his white messy hair.

he looks at you with a smile on his face, one that you see every single day, almost every single time you look at him. “it was good, yuji is finally getting the hang of it and it’s the same old with the others,” gojo explains as you scan his face, slowly but surely noticing the dark bags under his glassy eyes.

“are you okay? you must be tired, you’ve been working all day,” you lower your voice slightly, trying to sound as soft as possible, hoping he won’t lie about his feelings like he almost always does.

that seems to be his breaking point, his smile quickly faltering and his lower lip starting to quiver while tears begin to form in his eyes. his hands that were resting on your waist are starting to shake and it almost seems like he is about to faint.

sobs fill the room as you once again put your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. he’s holding onto you as tightly as he can, nuzzling his face into your neck, his tears falling onto your shirt. he’s hanging onto you as if his life depended on it, like he’s afraid to let go.

you sit down on the couch with him, rubbing gojo’s back in an attempt to comfort him. “i’m sorry, i-i’m sorry,” gojo sobs. “i don’t want to be weak, i’m sorry-“

his own tears interrupt him as he sniffles, trying to look away when you cup his face in your palms. “don’t say sorry, satoru. it’s okay to cry,” you say, tears forming in your own eyes at the sight of your boyfriend feeling like this. “you don’t have to hide just because you’re letting your feelings out.”

you rub his cheeks with your thumbs, allowing him to take his time, watching as the sobs slowly die down and he tries to wipe his tears away. “did something bad happen today?” you ask but gojo shakes his head, sighing.

“no, nothing happened. it’s just-i’m so tired. these stupid fucking higher ups keep putting me on all missions they can and then i have to be a teacher to the kids. i love them, they’re amazing, but i keep getting reminded of the old days every single time i see them,” he admits, looking down at his lap while speaking.

“i’m tired of being the strongest, i just wish i could be here at home all day and just sleep, eat, cuddle with you, watch movies. i wish i didn’t have to be the strongest all the time, i’m not even the strongest because if i was, suguru would be alive by now, i would’ve been able to help him,” gojo once again tears up at the thought of his friend who is no longer here.

you brush a hand through his hair gently. “don’t ever blame yourself, satoru. it’s not your fault, okay?” you try your best to reassure him, not knowing what to say.

he sighs and reaches for your hands, intertwining them with his own. “i don’t know what to do,” he whispers and you squeeze his hands. “that’s okay, we’ll just take it minute by minute, we don’t have to think about the past or the future right now if that would make it feel easier. we can just be here right now,” you say while leaning your forehead against his.

gojo closes his eyes for a little while and takes a deep breath with you, trying to calm down. “but maybe it’ll feel a little easier if you keep telling me whenever you feel like this, whenever something that disturbs you crosses your mind. it will all feel much worse if you keep trying to smile when you’re not happy. i’m your partner because i’m here no matter what, okay?”

gojo nods and opens his eyes to look into yours. “okay, thank you…i’m sorry for putting all of this on you-“ “don’t say sorry, i want to know what’s going on in your head,” you say, watching as he begins to place soft kisses to the knuckles of your hands.

“okay, i’ll try my best,” he mumbles, eventually letting go of your hands to pull you in for a hug again. “can we just go to sleep now?”

you smile softly and nod, placing a kiss to his cheek. “yeah we can, you don’t want dinner?” you ask and he chuckles lightly. “maybe i’ll eat some dinner first, i do love your cooking after all.”

gojo begins to get up from the couch, taking your hand. “and i do love you, of course,” he speaks before pulling you up from the couch as well, pressing a kiss to your forehead before walking towards the kitchen.

TAG LIST: @shotovhs

if you want to join the tag list, fill out this form <3

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.

Tim is excited for Damian.

He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.

Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.

He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.

A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.

"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."

He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.

"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.

She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.

He turns away sliding into the crowd.

There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.

"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."

He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.

"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.

His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.

"Never, something you want to talk about?"

Does he? No. Should he? Yah.

"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"

He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.

"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."

He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.

"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."

He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.

"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."

He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.

"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."

He turns to look back at the floor.

"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."

Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.

"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "

Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.

The night is finally looking up.

[axxa-the-allikatt]

Imagine.

Loser Shinichiro, who hasn’t been in a single relationship, realisation hitting him hard that he’s into guys, the moment Wakasa introduces you to him.

Loser Shinichiro, who’s fallen so hard, so fast, that his first interaction with you, ends with him tripping over some mechanical parts in his shop, and crashing towards you, falling right into your strong arms.

Loser Shinichiro, who doesn’t deny it when his friends tease him about having a crush on you, and they finally realise it’s because he does.

Loser Shinichiro, who, after a lot of persuasion from his friends, finally asks you out on a date, and actually faints when you agree.

Loser Shinichiro, who, as usual messes up the date so bad, that he believes that you should ignore him from here on.

Loser Shinichiro, who’s heart stops beating, when you crash your lips on his, as you drop him off to his house, telling him what a fool he was, but lucky for him, that was just your type.

Loser Shinichiro, who silently walks into his room, making his siblings and friends worry that he had been rejected again, until they hear him squeal like a girl in love, which he damn right was.

Loser Shinichiro, who gets all flustered when you come to his shop the next in the evening, asking his friends if you could borrow him for another date.

Loser Shinichiro, who blushes as you tell him to choose anything he wants to do, because today, you wanted it to be his day.

Loser Shinichiro, who, after going out for a few months, finally gets the courage to ask you out, but messes it up so badly you don’t even realise he was asking you to be his lover.

Loser Shinichiro, who ends up crying when, later that day, you ask him out on another date, but this time for a picnic under the moonlight, where you take his hand in yours, telling him how he’s the sweetest, albeit stupid, person you’ve ever met, and would he give you the pleasure of calling yourself his boyfriend?

Loser Boyfriend Shinichiro, who has a breakdown almost every time you take him out, for almost an entire month, because he still hasn’t processed that your his.

Loser Boyfriend Shinichiro, who finally, finally knows what it feels like to be loved in a way that no other person has ever made him feel.

Istg he is such a loser (affectionately). Like ugh, fuck all the girls who rejected him, but thank god too. Because if he’d actually had a girlfriend, half of the fandom whould’ve ignored her existence in most scenarios smh. I started writing this with something more… eheheh you know… in mind. But then he’s such a sweet loser that I couldn’t bring myself to write anything like that without actually giving him some fluffy story first.

[papaya-twinks]

mauve - l.n - p.3

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Sexism

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Taglist: @cheriiepies@jan1on@sagestack@fall-bambi@meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole @justcharlotte @cutieln4 @amz824 @coff33andb00ks @yoruse @neferaskingdom @dramaticpiratellamas @leonie404 @scarletwidow3000 @awritingtree

other parts 💜

“God, she’s so fucking infuriating,” Lando said, balancing his phone against his water bottle as he buttoned up his white shirt. “You mentioned,” Max refrained himself from rolling his eyes as Lando ignored him. “Like, why does she insist on being such an annoying little shit? Is she trying to piss me off?”.

“And that stupid little dress she wore before practise and quali,” Lando said, his mind jumping back to the memory of the dress you’d worse, the thick, knitted black minidress, the holes between the wool showing off your skin. “Is she trying to tease me or something?” Lando asked, more to himself than to Max.

“I don’t think she wore it for you,” Max said, “but you sure are getting worked up about it,”. Lando rolled his eyes as his hands ran through his selection of chains and necklaces, sliding a couple rings onto his long fingers. “I’m not worked up about shit,” Lando said, his voice sounding forced and strained.

“Whatever,” Max scoffed, knowing Lando could be a stubborn little shit sometimes, “you blocked her for making a joke, at least unblock her maybe? Proves you’re not as petty as you made out to her,”. Max did have a point, Lando supposed, as he took his phone out, hand hovering over the ‘unblock’ button.

You hadn’t even blocked him back, which onto made him look petty. God, you knew his game better than he did. “Look, me and some do the guys are gonna head down to the club, meet us there when you’re done selecting which necklace is the least feminine,” Max said as Lando snickered, hanging up.

“She’s such a-,” Lando said, showing Max the phone. “A bitch, yeah, you mentioned,” Max said, rolling his eyes, “now what are you showing me?”, he squinted at the phone, reading the comments. “Man, I put them fire emojis, I always put them and she sent the extinguisher,” Lando groaned.

“You told her she was shit as well,” Max protested weakly, knowing Lando would either flip at that, or ignore it. “Whose side are you even on?” Lando grumbled, though he did know he was being unreasonable. But he just didn’t understand why he felt so….so annoyed with simply your presence.

“Fine,” Lando said, putting his phone back down, “if she wants a social media rivalry coz she’s too shit to even bring her car close to mine,” he hissed, “she can have that,”. But yet, as Lando forced himself to try and understand and make himself believe that he hated you…he couldn’t help doing what he did next.

As much as Lando hated to admit it, you were very beautiful. He could see why people said that, though you wouldn’t catch him dead with those words on his lips. It was well past midnight by now, as Lando just scrolled and scrolled through all your photos, the ones from your F2 days, karting days.

If little Lando had been told you’d be a driver one day, and he looked at you at that age, when you were little and karting too, he would’ve probably laughed. To him, what could a girl do? Well, tomorrow was when you showed what you could do.

You’d qualified 13th, just behind Alex, which was a pretty solid result considering you were driving a cheese grater on wheels, but mow was the race. Your palms were sweaty, arms heavy as you walked onto the grid. You’d at least manage to line your car up fine, which was a good sign in some respects.

You’re nervous, you could feel your heart throbbing against your chest, but on the surface you look calm and collected, ready to drive the shit out of this race. “Hi, Y/N,” an interviewer appeared out of nowhere as you walked up and down the pit lane, silently assessing each car.

“How are you feeling for the race?” she asked as you blinked for a few seconds. You opened your mouth, you’d forgotten what you’d practised, everything you wrote down, it was all gone. The race hadn’t even begun and you’d choked already. You gave the reporter a weak smile before nodding your head and walking back to your own car.

Not an encouraging boost. As you say in the car, talking quietly to yourself, you watched the light go off to signal a formation lap. It was the same as F2 and F3, just warm up your tyres, slide to the left and right to grab some heat into them. You’d done it countless times before, you could do it again, right?

“Fuck!” you hissed as your front left tyre immediately locked up at the front corner. You just about managed to make it round the corner, but it was no doubt that that type was no overheated, and more than likely flat spotted. “God, she’s locked up already?” Lando snickered as he watched you through his rear view.

He looked forward to telling Max he was right about you being shit. You lined up into your box, a little further back than you would’ve liked, as you waited for the lights to go out. One…two…three…four…five. And out they went, your foot stamping down on the accelerator. Much to your own surprise, you’d gotten a decent start.

You barely registered the cars that you passed, making up two places already as you made it round the first corner. Thank shit. Alex had made it up to tenth, the last of the points paying position, and you were just behind. The last thing you’d ever want to do on your debut was fuck up your teammate’s and your own race.

You watched as the cars who started on soft began to file into the pits, Lando included as he tapped his steering wheel with his fingers, waiting for the tyres to change. And where did he come out? Right behind you. Great. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando cursed to himself.

“Y/N, don’t fight it,” your radio engineer said as you ignored him, defending like it was the race of your life down to the first corner. “Y/N, please, don’t overheat your tyres, this isn’t your fight,”. You didn’t care, you hated Lando. You hated that man more than anything, he was nothing but a stupid jerk, he deserved it.

“Y/N, this isn’t our race, we’re not racing Lando, I repeat, we’re not fighting Lando,” your engineer said firmly. God, fuck it. With a silent yell, you let Lando pass you, watching him wave one hand out of the side of his cockpit to you. Was that a thumbs up or a middle finger? You couldn’t tell.

You struggled with your tyres for the remainder of that stint, pitting to come out in 9th, before getting swiftly overtaken by Alex, and then Daniel. It wasn’t a bad race, yes, you’d not come in the points, but you had only gone up two places.

Fuck, Lando, he was a dick.

[razrbladekiss]

GUILTY AS SIN? | Joel Miller — PART TWO

SUMMARY: after a chance encounter, joel miller is faced with a dilemma. will he be able to resist temptation, or will he crumble beneath your mystifying gaze?

PAIRING: dads ex-best-friend!joel miller x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.6k.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, 18+ WORK BELOW THE CUT. soft!joel, i yearn for this amidst all of the angsty, grumpy old man joel. some dialogue that melts me. dirty talk. pervy joel. mentions of f&m masturbation. pussy eating. fingering <3 protected piv cus if you’re gonna fuck your dad’s ex best friend, then you need to at least do something sensible!! sarah calls joel while you’re…yano.

happy birthday joel <3

PART ONE

Should I really be doing this?

Joel’s inner monologue—and conscience—is about to implode, firing fragments of stupidity into each corner of his brain it seems. Because that’s the only way this could be described rationally.

He’s fucking stupid. He has to be. To come back to Point Pleasant, for one, to admit that he has a crush on his ex-best-friend’s daughter another, and then take her HOME with him.

To the house that your parents used to go to every Saturday night for parties, gatherings, meals. Joel used to host Superbowl Sundays there, too, which were arguably some of the best days had by your father and something he’ll always remember regardless of the precarious terms that he’s on with Joel.

That house would be your after-school retreat, when you and Sarah were best friends growing up. You’d spend hours there playing games, riding your bikes in the yard, telling one another your deepest darkest secrets.

You took your first sip of alcohol in that house at a party that—to this day—you and Sarah still keep secret from your parents. You had your first fight there—at the same party, actually—and the scar from the Jack Daniels bottle still sits uncomfortably above your right bicep. The scar that your dad still believes is from you cutting yourself on chicken wire, and not a result of an intoxicated kerfuffle with a college senior when you were sixteen.

You haven’t set foot in Joel’s home for years, and that’s what terrifies him.

What if this all becomes too real? What if she doesn’t want me when she remembers all the history, all the things that happened here?

His brain is working faster than what his mouth or body can even dream of keeping up with, and he hasn’t even realized that his truck is still stationary outside of the bar.

“Joel.” You say his name for the third time, and he finally manages to cut free the ties between his reluctance and desire. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

Eyebrows fused together, you stare back at him. Joel fiddles with the keys to his truck before he’s stuffing them into the ignition.

You choose to stay silent. He knows that you know that he’s playing dumb. How couldn’t you? You’d been having those same reticent thoughts leaving the bar, too.

It’s a tricky situation to be thrust into, but it’s not exactly your worst nightmare. Banging Joel is only something you could’ve imagined. And, truthfully, it was.

You’d spent many a night with your deft fingertips between your legs, touching yourself to the mental image of Joel’s cock splitting you open and fucking you so hard that you’re seeing stars. But you’d never admit that.

How could you? He’s Sarah’s dad. At one point, he was your father’s oldest friend. A man that—despite his physical allure and more than charming personality—is much, much too old for you.

You swallow your indecision, rolling down the window when you feel the air getting thick. A cool—almost orgasmic—breeze flits through the cabin and you’re suddenly comfortable again.

Too comfortable, maybe.

“When did you realize that you wanted me, Joel?” You ask. It’s a bold question. One that he mightn’t hold the answer to. But it’s worth a shot.

Joel clears his throat, focusing on the road ahead. His knuckles begin to turn white for the grip that he has on the leather-bound wheel is unyielding. Though, he doesn’t feel as tense as he appears.

“Actually, you don’t gotta answer—“

“When you left for college.” He speaks over you, feeling an inexhaustible shade of maroon bleed into his cheeks. “When your father called Sarah ‘n I over to say our ‘goodbyes’ before you went, that’s when I realized.”

Your heart starts to thump.

“I think it was the thought of not seeing ‘ya for a few months that put it into perspective for me.” Joel admits somewhat uninhibited. It was nice. “I was so proud of you, goin’ ‘n chasin’ your dreams. Always been a bright girl.”

You smile at him. He’s still focused on the road, trying not to heed too much the glare from oncoming vehicle lights as Joel’s old age has cursed him with damn astigmatism.

He squints.

“Always had more of a soft spot for you than what I should’ve.” He says. “Not in a gross old-man way. Just always saw so much of your dad in you when you were growin’ up, and it took me back to when we were kids ourselves. And then when you turned eighteen—and grew up a hell of a lot—I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

“Perv.” You joke and he just shoots you a pointed glare. But he knows you’re kidding.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t think that I forgot ‘bout what you said. How you’ve always wanted to fuck me.”

Eighty-five million shades of crimson flush into your face at Joel’s crude remark, but all he can do is laugh at your suddenly reddened state.

“How old were you when you had your sexual awakening?”

“Fuck off.” You chuckle and swat at his shoulder. “Eh. Dunno. I always thought you were kinda cute, but the shitty sex in college made me yearn for a good pounding from a seasoned professional.”

Joel’s jaw drops. You’re filthy. He loves it.

“Have you ever touched yourself thinking of me?” You ask completely nonchalant, mainly because you have fingered yourself to the mental image of Joel.

He huffs out a laugh—humorless—and turns to you when he hits a stop light.

Joel never thought he’d be asked a question like this, let alone have to answer it.

“Yeah.” He concedes. “I—uh—I have.”

Your pussy throbs.

“Spent a lotta time fuckin’ my fist ‘n thinkin’ of you.” He divulges and suddenly feels that familiar ache in the chasms of his tummy. His jeans start to constrict as his dick feels like it’s getting strangled by taut denim.”Those vacation pictures you posted on Facebook last summer…”

Joel shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“That little bikini.” He continues, torturing himself. “Fuck. The things that I’ve wanted to do to you—“

“Then do them.” Bold—completely brazen—you say. “Joel, I didn’t say that I wanted to fuck you just for the sake of it. I want you.”

“And I want you, too.” Joel tells you, shifting a little to look at you as he promptly realizes that his house is another ten minutes away. “But I can’t wait.”

Hastily—in a moment of complete madness, blinded by the most lecherous haze—Joel takes a sharp left turn down some slightly sketchy side-street. He yanks up the parking brake.

“What?” You blink at him, heeding the raging boner he’s flaunting. “You want to do it here?”

Joel nods. “Car sex not good enough for the princess, huh?”

He starts unzipping his pants while you, on instinct, pull off your dress.

“No.” Your head shakes. “No, absolutely not. Just didn’t think you’d want to eat me out in the passenger seat, s’all.”

“Yeah, well.” He pulls his jeans and underwear down, and his prick springs free. Its so hard it looks almost painful. “I’ve waited long enough to get you alone, ‘n I ain’t wasting no more time.”

You nod, pulling almost sheer fabric over your head. Fair enough.

Joel’s eyes all but pop out of his skull at the sight of your tits. They’re even more alluring in person, than what that goddamn Facebook picture alludes.

“God. Your father is gonna kill me.”

“What daddy don’t know won’t hurt him.” You retort with a smile. It’s almost innocent. It’s almost driving him fucking crazy.

His features harden. As Joel puts one hand to the back of your neck and the other wraps around his cock—slowly pumping his length—he kisses you. It’s teeth and tongues, and he’s moaning because the pleasure flowing straight to his tip mixed with the saccharine liquor on your tongue is almost too much.

It’s intense. It’s steamy and needy, and Joel just smells so good. He tastes pretty sweet, too.

You whine into his mouth, feeling a haze of lust devour any sense of rationality that you might’ve had before this very juncture.

“Fuck.” He rasps as he pulls away, his hand still affixed to his literal throbbing cock. “Get on your back.”

You oblige in a heartbeat, laying against lukewarm leather, skin already sticking to it as its getting damp with sweat.

“Jesus Christ.” He lets out an expletive, feeling his already solid cock harden to an almost painful degree as you begin to leak liquid sexuality at the mere thought of Joel eating you out.

Your chest heaves as Joel starts to lick at your cunt.

A searing warmth percolates through your body as his tongue works your heat, licking a chaste trail through your folds. Its demure, its soft yet lascivious, and its driving you absolutely insane, the way he’s touching you. Feeling you. Eating you.

He laps at your honeyed sweetness, hastening the pace at which he licks and sucks and jabs at your core. Your wanton—borderline licentious—whines only encourage him.

“So sweet.” He comes up for air, slipping his middle finger into your pussy while he writes his fucking name with his tongue on your clit and wrenches inside of you. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

“Joel—“

“Baby.” The man murmurs against your swollen bud, overstimulating you to a point of almost no return, and you whine. You cry and whimper for him as he laps at your weeping bloom, feeling every ounce of pleasure twist within the chasms of your abdomen.

He spreads both of your legs apart and pulls them over his shoulders—hands firmly clamping against your stomach—and goes at it, hammer and tongs. No remorse. No mercy. No goal aside from making you squirt and scream the place down.

And of course it feels wrong, to be pinned beneath the man whose first sexual escapade was most likely shared with your father mere moments later. But you don’t care.

You don’t care that half of Joel’s life was spent by the side of your parent, or that he was there the day that you learned how to ride a bike for the first time. Because it’s so different, now.

You don’t know him anymore. Joel isn’t the same. He doesn’t look the same, or act the same. He was so grumpy, so mad at the world for the longest fucking time. But now he seems to be at peace.

Here. With you.

“Bet those stupid college jocks never tried suckin’ your soul outta your cunt.” Joel mumbles against trembling thighs, kissing and biting a little trail before he’s diving straight back into your heat.

Your head shakes and you whisper a little “no.” Speaking feels impossible, now.

And while the words won’t fall from your lips, a sharp mewl—shriek, almost—falls from your lips as your warmth devours Joel’s tongue and fingers. You tighten around him, immediately feeling your release.

But he doesn’t stop. Joel stays at it. He laps up the desire that’s pouring from you, feeling his cock start to leak at the sound of you and the way that he’s forcing your body to convulse.

You writhe and moan and he wants to take pity on you, but he can’t stop. He paws at his length and jerks his hand in time with his tongue as it slips through your folds.

“Joel—“ your hand goes to his head on instinct, wreathing fingers into his hair as his hold is relentless. “Fuck me—I—“

“You what, darlin’?” He lifts his glance, watching your eyes roll back in your fucking head. “You can’t take it anymore? You want me to show you what a seasoned professional can do?”

You cringe at your words being thrown back in your face, but you nod. Because Joel’s calloused fingertips strumming away at your clit is making you fucking ascend, and you’d like to leave his truck with at least some of your dignity.

He goes back down for another taste, drinking your come as it pours out of you. He licks a final trail through your pussy and lands at your clit, sucking it before releasing with a soaking pop.

Joel pulls away and gets on his knees bwteeen your legs, admiring the mess that he’s made of you beneath him. It’s a beautiful sight. But he worries that if he basks in it for too much longer, then he’ll blow his load all over you.

Fuck. His load. Joel grunts, pulling a hand over his face.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, propping yourself up by your elbows. “Joel?—“

“Condoms.” He rasps. “You got any?”

“No.” Joel throws his head back, frustrated. “Hey. I’m sorry that I don’t carry them around with me, but I don’t usually go fuckin’ around with people that I run into in the hardware store—“

“Sorry.” He apologises, hoping that he hasn’t ruined the mood. “Think I got some in the glove box.”

“Hope they’re in date.” Joel glares at you. “What? When was the last time that you got laid, Miller?”

He rubs his lips together. He ignores your remark, instead pulling a lone rubber from the glovebox. Joel sighs, complacent.

You peer at the back of the foil. 02.04.26.

“Huh. Got your dick wet pretty recently.” You muse, slightly downcast. But if it weren’t for being at the store today, you wouldn’t be in this situation and all would be so different.

Joel feels your trepidation. But counters with “I’m pretty sure that Tommy put these in here after I went on a Tinder date in January.”

You watch as he rolls it over his prick, and raise a brow.

“You haven’t had sex since January?”

He shakes his head.

“Fuck. That’s wild. I thought you were always out bangin’ bitches.”

“No.” He chuckles, gripping firmly his cock. He lines it up with your—still completely soaked—core. “Used to be, but not anymore.”

“Aw, I feel special, now.”

Joel leans over, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Always been special, sweetheart.”

Throbbing once more, your cunt glitters. It’s humiliating, getting so wet so fast. But Joel is fucking luxuriating in it. He loves this sight, you underneath him.

“You ready?” The search for consent—or at least approval—forces butterflies to wreak havoc inside of your stomach.

You nod at him. “More than.”

Joel’s heart pounds. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe that he’s being so fucking stupid. But, here you are. Here he is. About to have TRUCK sex with you, like you’re just some girl that he’s picked up from the bar.

IDIOT.

But he heaves all disinclination to the side, and pushes slowly his cock into the searing warmth between your legs.

He hisses out a “fuck” while you throb around him. You’re tighter than he thought, and he can’t believe it. He can’t get over the fact that he fits you almost perfectly, like his prick was just fucking made for you.

He could stay like this all day.

But he needs to get off. Quickly. Because it’s almost eleven-fifteen, and he promised Sarah that he’d call to see how her flight to Kansas was at eleven-thirty.

“Christ, Joel.” Your head hits the seat with a thump, feeling quickly the second orgasm that he’s bestowing upon you this evening. “Feels so good.”

“Can say that again.” He replies, breathless as he starts to hasten his pace. His knees dig deep into the leather-bound seat as he strives to keep his balance while rutting into you.

Your back arches as a surge of pleasure strikes your core, and Joel puts his right hand beneath the curve of your spine while the left is gripping tightly your thigh as it shakes and shivers.

“This pussy.” He groans through gritted teeth, watching his cock slide in and out of your weeping cunt. “This fuckin’ pussy is perfect.”

More of that arousal seeps onto his cock, slick and wet. A sharp squelch urges you to cringe, but the physical sensation cancels out any feelings of sheepishness.

You’re a mess. In Joel’s truck, on the front bench, you’re a fucking mess.

But it’s some of the best sex you’ve had in—well—forever, and you can’t even dream of elucidating the gory details to anyone. Because this is wrong. Completely forbidden. Yet it feels so good.

You’d die if anyone found out, but you’re hardly being private about it.

Your moans—loud and obnoxious—reverberate through the cabin and you’re pretty sure that people a mile away can hear how well Joel’s fucking into you.

“Wanna get on top.” You muster out and take him by surprise. But he’s into it, and pulls out to sit back down on his ass.

You clamber over—and feel that pooling wetness seap down the inseam of your thighs—watching him watching you.

Both legs land either side of Joel’s, and he takes it upon himself to line his cock up with your slit. You rub over the tip, slowly sliding down onto him while your eyes are locked on his.

Joel twitches and writhes underneath you. You put both hands on his chest—exposed through his green and red flannel—and slowly ride him. You’re gentle, with your movements. Unyielding, but gentle.

“Love your cock.” Through bated breaths, you say. “So, so big.”

“Love your pussy—“

He’s cut off by the almost offensive ringtone that came default with the phone that—honestly—you couldn’t put a name to even if you had a gun to your head

“Aw, fuck. What time is it?”

You shrug, rolling your hips. “Like, eleven-thirty.”

Joel grunts and groans, fishing around for his cellphone. He pulls it from between the seat and the door.

Sarah.

“Darlin’—it’s Sarah you’re gonna have to—fuck—gonna have to stop.”

You shake your head no. “I’ll just be quiet. And I’ll go slow.”

“Fine.” He says, though knows that you “going slow” will destroy him.

Joel clears his throat, feeling quickly his release looming.

“Hey, baby girl.” He greets her, and you hear her mutter something back. Something about him needing to stop saying that, and asking him to refer to her as something normal.

She hasn’t changed. You smile. It’s cute. You just want to kiss him.

But you want to torture him even fucking more.

Both hands take purchase against his shoulders, and you rock at a pace that you know is killing him.

He grinds his lips together, humming in response to something that she’s saying.

“That’s great, Sar’.” Joel shoots you daggers as your tits press against his chest. You moan quietly, writhing on top of his prick.

You’re not going to quit, and he knows that. So as she’s describing—in depth—the ordeal that she had at the airport, he takes it as his cue to lift his hips and pound into you. All the while striving not to make a noise.

“Fuck, Joel. I’m gonna cum—“ You whisper, hating how quickly you’re unraveling atop him. He jolts his hips upwards—fast and lazy—as you’re orgasming in front of him. Again.

And it’s only a matter of time before he starts his unyielding release, and so you ride him until you’re seeing stars. You’re so sensitive and overstimulated, and feel as though your cunt is going to drop off.

But it’s worth it. To see Joel’s face contort, and his breathing grow sporadic, is so worth it.

“What—uh—what day will you be home?” He asks her, throat hitching.

“Saturday.”

He groans, watching you throw your head back.

“Dad? You alright?”

“Yes.” He says, short. “Sorry, that was blunt. I’m alright. Kinda caught up in an emergency, hon. Mrs. McKaye’s pipes are blocked. Can I call you back in the morning?”

She mumbles something about him being too nice and how he can never say “no” to anybody, and agrees to speak in the morning. Joel switches off his phone and throws it behind him, quickly fastening his palms to your thighs.

“”Mrs. McKaye’s pipes are blocked?” Joel, you are such a shitty liar.”

“I know.” He says, letting his cock hit the spongiest part of your cunt as he slams into you—hilt deep—and mumbles a slew of curses entwined with your name. “I never lie. That’s why I’m so bad at it.”

You laugh for a millisecond, before pleasure is surging over you and your sweat-slick torsos are fused together. A gorge of complete and utter rapture almost drowns the two of you, and before you know it Joel’s cock is twitching—pulsating—inside of you as he hits his release and cum is spitting from the tip of his prick.

You’re grateful for the condom—as getting pregnant by your dad’s ex-best-friend is literally a death sentence—but desire the feeling of Joel’s hot cum painting threads of white against the walls of your pussy.

“Fuck.” You whimper, wriggling as he’s still deep within you. “Joel, that was—“

“Fucking amazing.” He finishes, panting. Sweat beads against his forehead, chest and neck.

Joel—hesitantly—pulls out, and his head hits the rest behind it. You peel yourself away and reach for your dress, quickly shimmying back into it before you’re curling up next to him. Joel puts his arm around you.

“Kinda glad that I went lookin’ for a gate lock, now.”

“Mhm. Me too, sweetheart.” He replies, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“I’ve gotta go and get caulk tomorrow. You gonna be there?”

Joel chuckles. “Depends. You gonna come home with me again?”

“We haven’t even made it back to your place once.”

“This is true.” He says.

Joel reaches for his pants and jeans.

He leans into you, nipping your ear. “But I ain’t done with you yet.”

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/?

God I'm a sucker for a soulmate au. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2347

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Other info: About this au - Soulmates find each other through touch, which establishes a mental link that lets feelings through, and if solid and built up enough over time, simple thoughts/words can also come through. Some bonds are purely platonic, about ⅓ in total. Multiple soulmates are not unheard of, but rare, more common with platonic soulmates. 

Quickly about the reader - mercenary/gunman/thug for hire. Great shot with pretty much any gun, has two knives as backup weapons, has fought with swords before. Looks wise he has hair and is shorter than Wade and Logan, but I try to keep no specific height in mind while writing. Has a few scares scattered over his body, but nothing specific as of yet. Does not want a soulmate, thinks it just leaves people vulnerable. Lives on his own in an apartment he owns and is content with his life.

All you were, really, was hired help.

All you were supposed to do was stand around and look scary with a few other tugs in a warehouse with high shelves stacked with crates, while your employer (a generous word for the drug dealer that hired you) met with another drug dealer.

It had gone tits up the second a man wearing a red and black spandex suit and katanas on his back of all things came crashing through a window.

You had dived for cover, because there are gunshots ringing out in the milliseconds after the glass shatters. You curse, reaching for your gun, with just one single 10 bullet magazine, because your stupid employer had insisted you only needed one when you asked for more. So to have something more you had your adamantium knives strapped to each thigh, hidden enough under your black joggers.

You curse under your breath, cause this is fucking awful. You hear gunshots over and over again, people are dying, wood from shipping crates are splintering, metal is hitting the floor. 

And there’s talking. 

Fucking talking.

“Come one guys, your aim is all off! Did none of you ever train on the neighborhood cats?”

Well, more like yelling. Because even though the warehouse wasn’t empty, it still had an echo. You are used to the loud sounds, it fuels your adrenaline as you peek out from behind the crate you are using as a shield.

The man, you are just going to call him Red for now, is flipping and bouncing between crates, avoiding any big hits. A few bullets graze an arm, but he doesn’t seem to take notice as his own bullets find their marks, bodies dropping around him. He’s nimble and quick about it, taking down guys from both sides with equal gusto, and you find yourself just watching him carefully. He’s almost elegant, light on his feet, and a jab or taunt spewing out of his mouth every few bullets. 

Careful not to alert Red or anyone else about your position, you shift, gun in hand watching him saunter over to your employer, the last man standing. Well, not really, since he’s down on his knees, begging for something incoherent while fat tears and snot roll down his face. 

“Newsflash asshole, I don’t care for your tragic backstory that the writer won’t let you talk about.” Red raises his gun, one last loud bang filling the warehouse before it’s quiet once again.

“Last fucking one, my counting skills once again making me win.” Red claps his hands together, before moving his hands to his hips, looking around the warehouse. “What a fucking mess.” He shakes his head, and you see your opportunity now that he thinks it’s all over.

You move up, pulling the trigger as soon as your gun is aimed right. Red doesn’t even get to turn before six bullets go through his chest, two through his throat, and the last two finding their mark in his skull. You shouldn’t use all your bullets on one target like that, but still you do.  Red drops like a sack of potatoes, and you draw a sigh of relief, lowering your gun as you too look around the warehouse. You’re glad it’s far away from anything else, because it should take at least a few hours before the cops are alerted, and by that time you would be far away from this warehouse that is by now covered in blood, bullet casings, and dead men.

Your earlier relief turns into utter confusion as you hear shuffling, and when you turn back towards where Red’s body is, you see him shake his head where he lays crumpled on the floor, and seconds later he’s on his feet with a groan.

“Okay, good shot whoever that was.” You gape, words slipping out of your mouth without meaning to.

“What the fuck.” Red’s head snaps towards you.

“Oh, there you are.” His voice is light, almost like he’s halfway into song. “I would return the favor, but I’m fresh out of bullets so this will have to do.” He pulls out the katanas strapped to his back. You grab your knives, managing, somehow by the grace of whatever runs this universe, to bring it out just in time to block both katanas that were coming at you in tight formation.

“Oh so you weren’t just happy to see me.” Red jokes, and though you can’t see his face under the mask, you are pretty sure he is grinning. You grunt, because there is no way for your brain to form words as you parry another attack from him, retreating.

You are in no position to attack, so all you do is stop his, and try to escape, backing off. Or rather, you try to, but Red is not letting up, so all you end up doing is walking backwards through the warehouse in a vague path between boxes and shelves as he attacks. 

He manages to get a few slashes here and there to connect, but they are shallow, just enough to draw blood and sting. One on your left arm, two on your right arm, three on your left leg. You wonder if amounts are on purpose. He seems to take it all as encouragement, laughing, keeping up his quick attacks. 

You don’t know you hold out, breathing heavy, arms and hands hurting with how you are clutching and shielding with your knives like your life depends on it. 

Because it 1000% fucking does, that’s why you manage.

Red finally lets up, just enough that you can create some space between the two of you. You don’t dare to actually turn and run, certain he has no moral code of cutting down someone from behind. So you just try to slowly create even more room between the two of you as you watch for his next attack.

“Oh I am having fun!” Red tries to clap, but he just knocks the hilts of his katanas together. “Though we are just a little unevenly matched here.” He sounds like he’s breathing just a little bit harder at least, even though there are no cuts next to the bullet holes riddling his suit. He tilts his head for a moment, then bends down, and then there’s a katana sliding over the floor, bumping into your boot. You look down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Come on, pick it up.” Shifting your knives into one hand, you keep your eyes on the white eyes of his mask as you bend down and pick up the sword. 

“Oh yeah, look at me during.” You ignore his comment, feeling the weight of the katana in your hand. It’s heavy, but perfectly balanced, feeling perfect as you spin it in your hand a few times, the hilt still warm from Red’s earlier hold. 

“Hot.” Red says as he twirls his second katana, mimicking you. Once more ignoring him, you put your knives back in their sheats. “Do you have them there to distract your enemies by making them think you are going to jerk off mid-battle?” You snort.

“No, they are there so they are more hidden, and more difficult to grab.”

“If you wanted my hands in your pants all you had to do was ask, baby.” You think Red is winking at you through the mask. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Shut the fuck up.” With both of your hands on the hilt of the katana, you are ready to defend yourself from his first attack.

“Ohhh, you remind me of someone. I think the two of you would get along, he’s also a man of few words. Maybe I’ll let you live so you can meet him and fight him too, more material for my spank bank.” He definitely winks this time, then you are defending yourself from another attack from him. It pushes you backwards, again, but this time, you are able to attack back.

Though you can’t help but wonder if he’s letting you, just indulging you. Because you can feel how strong he is when you parry his strikes, you felt how strong he was when all you had was your knives.

It’s a dance, a dance he lets you participate in as you block, attack, block, attack, block. Redirecting his sword coming for your throat so it splinters wood instead of flesh.

“How did you learn to fight like this?” Wade asks, almost spinning as his energy is redirected away from your body. He is at least breathing a little heavier, and for some reason, you find yourself having a little fun, even though you think you know how this is going to end.

“I was a loser in high school. What about you?” You speak through gritted teeth, the sound of metal on metal filling the warehouse as you block another attack. You don’t even know why you ask him back, but it feels right.

“Something similar.” It’s still kinda hard to tell, but you think he grins under his mask as you attack back.

You do get a few cuts in, deep enough that it slices through his suit and the skin underneath, but it leaves you with little satisfaction as you see the cuts heal in seconds. Though at least his suit can’t fix itself, growing more tattered by the minute as new slashes and old bullet holes make a mess of it.

“So you are not just a pretty face, there’s some skills there.” You frown, anger flaring, and you are about to say something, but with a quick move that you have no opportunity to block, and that  truly demonstrates the difference between the two of you, he nicks you with just the tip of the katanta, just on the left corner of your mouth. You startle, but on instinct your tongue goes out to lick at the blood now sliding down to your skin. It just gives you more motivation to strike back, a big one that leaves behind what could almost be called a titty window on his chest, showing textured skin underneath.

“Ohhhh, freaky.” Red taunts, slicing your chest too, though your skin doesn’t heal when metal connects after slicing through your shirt like air. You curse, adrenaline causing your ears to roar, and the world to go a little fuzzy at the edges. You touch your chest, fingers coming back bloody, watching Red. Your own katana pointing towards the floor, ready, but down as you breathe heavily.

“Leaving yourself all open for me? You shouldn’t have.” Red coos, and that is what you are counting on. Letting him attack you straight on, thinking you have given up, so you can shove the katana through his skull, killing him again, and leaving you at least a few moments to high tail it out of there.

It’s what the plan is.

It does not work out like you intend it to.

It goes in a whole new direction.

Because when he comes close enough, you manage to get a hold on his shoulder, which gets you a hopefully not deadly slice over your abdomen for your efforts. You are moving quickly, seconds away from stabbing the katana through the bottom of his jaw. But then your fingers touch a bare spot on his shoulder where his suit had gotten torn, and there’s a sparkler going off in your brain, a sizzling sensation that settles in the back of your head as feelings of excitement, adrenaline, and happiness that are not your own speeds through your mind.

You gasp out loud.

You can’t help yourself.

Because you know what that was.

And there is no fucking way.

WHAT. THE. ABSOLUTE. 

FUCK.

Fucking no.

A soulmate.

You have a fucking soulmate??????

And this is how you fucking meet him????

In all of your turmoil, you have dropped the katana that was destined to go through Red’s skull. He is a few paces behind you, not immediately attacking, just watching you as you turn around in your now mostly frozen state.

“Wh-”

“Touch me.” Red blinks, owlishly even with the white eyes of his mask.

“Wow, so forward. You know, con-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You march over to him, and in what seems to be confusion he lets you tug the glove of his hand that is not holding his katana. You interlace your fingers, the motion absurdly tender for the moment that is currently playing out. You see his eyes widen behind the mask, and you are sure his mouth opens and closes several times even hidden as it is.

“What the fuck.” The words are so soft out his mouth that you are not even sure he said them. Not that it matters, because a second later he is wrenching his hand back like you burned him. He runs past you, and you watch as he picks up his katana where you dropped it, and then keeps running after that brief slowdown, heading towards a door you hadn’t noticed while you were fighting. You startle yourself into action finally, following him, but he’s out the door before you can reach him.

On the other side there’s a hallway, and his back is quickly retreating, and all you feel is panic. You are not sure which of you it is coming from.

You try to keep up with him through multiple hallways, but he’s fast, getting out of the building before you do. It’s enough of a headstart that you only see backlights and hear the roar of a motorcycle speeding away.

You run over to where the cars you all arrived in earlier are parked, but of fucking course all tires are slashed. Not like you had any of the keys anyway, but they would have been easy enough to find in some dead man's pockets.

“Fucking MOTHERFUCKER!” You know he can’t hear you, but you hope Red feels your frustration through your bond as you punch the hood of a car, denting the metal.

[listentoace]

Trigger Warning: Death Feederism, Emotional Abuse, Heavy Manipulation, Gaslighting

Look, I know I told you that I'd stop fattening you up once you decided you wanted to stop, but I won't. And I believe you knew that from the beginning. I think you just had to lie to yourself in order to let go and give in. I have just enabled you, that's it. You've done all of this to yourself. You just kept eating. You kept ordering junk food. You kept asking for snacks. You could have just said no, you could've stopped. But did you?

You know I love the extreme. You knew what you were in for. All those times when you asked me how fat would be fat enough, I kept telling you there is no such thing as fat enough. We both know you're too far down the road to stop. Your habits have changed, your appetite is immense, and we both know you're just deeply addicted to the feeling you get from stuffing yourself. If you seriously want to stop, you would need my help. You would not be strong and disciplined enough to stop by yourself. You'll keep eating and suffering from the consequences until that clogged heart of yours gives out.

I'm not helping you. Why would I? I'll always want you fatter, always. There is absolutely no reason for me not to further enable you and watch you further ruin yourself. It's just so hot. I doubt anyone would help you. Heck, you're so fat, you can barely leave the house by now. You know you'd be absolutely fucked without me. You may not have realized it, but you depend on me. Who does all the cleaning? Who gets the groceries? Who brings in the money? It's me. And yes, I know I talked you into a sedentary lifestyle. I talked you into quitting your job. But you made the decision, not me. You chose the sedentary lifestyle of a fattened house pig. I simply enabled you to choose that option.

And just like that, I'll let you chose again. You'll either keep eating, keep getting fatter, and enjoy another 1-2 pleasurable years until your heart pops, or I'm gone, and you'll have to figure things out by yourself. Your best bet would probably be to apply for disability. You don't even fit into a regular office desk anymore, so I doubt anybody will be stupid enough to give you a job. But it's up to you. You have made every decision that brought you here, and this next one is up to you too. So what's it going to be? ~

[leahrintarou]

HELLO GIRL HOPE YOU'RE DOING GOOD 😊

i wanted to request for dabi x fem!villain!reader. she loves dabi but he's a brat to her just like himself, like with everyone. and after one mission reader goes somewhere and drinks fuckload of alcohol and she's super lightweight so she's out after one/two shots. and that night she gets like tons of alcohol. so she's obviously drunk and she has no idea what she's doing and she calls dabi. and he cares for her he's just acting this way (i severely believe that he's the guy who falls for someone and IMMEDIATELY had a pushing away mechanism going on because of his past and stuff). and he comes to pick reader up and she's not even able to stand straight. like she's pretty fucked AMD SHE'S A BABY WHEN DRUNK, LIKE LITERALLY WHINING CRYING AND BEING A CUTIE. and he takes her with him and she has few more bottle hidden somewhere with her, and she keeps drinking and he's concerned because she's extra lightweight. but she keeps getting those bottles so he throws one of them out of the moving car window😆 and she's like why would you do that it was a great whiskey (or whatever she can drink). but she's not sad for long because she takes out another bottle, and he does the same thing. and after that she starts crying because it was her last bottle and he's so mean. AND then at night she gets sick because of all that alcohol she has earlier so she's having a huge fever, she feels like dying, so she whines a d cries about her feelings and him rejecting her and she confesses to him and says a lot of stupid things how pretty he it and how good he looks shirtless and stuff like that. AND then next day when she wakes up he teases her about it and she's embarrassed af, but it ends up fluff with him confessing back😊😊❤️❤️❤️

I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG BUT I HAVE A LOT OF THINGS GOING ON IN MY HEAD AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHORTEN MY THOUGHTS🤣🤣 I'M SORRY 😞 but i still hope you'll write it🥺

✩₊˚.⋆ RELUCTANT HEARTS - dabi/touya todoroki

CW: y/n is drunk, alcohol intoxication, communication issues, y/n's in love but dabi is being dabi, he doesn't know how to talk about his feelings, swearing, reader with she/her pronouns, non-detailed mentions of throwing up, fluff, some angst if u squint tbh.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: (i'm doing well, anon! :p) i hope you guys enjoy reading! it came out a bit longer than i was planning but oh well lol. leave a like or reblog to support!

the bitter warmth of alcohol lingered on y/n's tongue as she downed yet another shot. she'd long lost count after the eighth, the need for a chaser fading as the taste softened, dulled by her numbing senses. "ma'am, we'll be closing soon," one of the bartenders murmured, the same one who had filled her glass every few minutes without fail.

she nodded, her vision doubling with the motion. nausea crept up on her, and she sighed at the inevitable. a lightweight by nature, she usually capped her nights at fewer than ten shots when drinking alone, but tonight was a different story.

her solo mission had been successful, but not without needless resistance from heroes who showed no mercy. shigaraki had barely scolded her, while dabi took the opportunity to belittle her inefficiency. it wasn’t like her to slip up so badly, but dabi never missed a chance to hold her mistakes over her—so long as they bothered her, he’d never let her forget.

despite her hating the fact that she had to, y/n fumbled with her phone, squinting at the blurry screen before finally locating dabi’s number. her thumb slipped as she pressed call, the dial tone ringing painfully loud in her ear.

“what?” dabi’s voice was sharp, instantly irritated.

“touya…” she slurred, her words tumbling lazily. “i need… i need you to come get me,” she mumbled. there was a pause, then a scoff. “what the hell? you sound trashed. where are you?”

“uh… somewhere,” y/n mumbled, blinking as she tried to get her thoughts straight. “i’m just… out.”

“out? where’s ‘out,’ y/n?” his voice was flat, but she could hear the growing annoyance. “you’re not making any sense.”

“just… come get me,” she groaned, frustration bleeding into her slurred words. “i can’t… i can’t even walk straight.” she glanced down at her lap, where her free hand rested as she twisted the singular ring at the base of her index finger.

dabi snorted. “no shit, you’re drunk off your ass. what are you doing, wandering around aimlessly?”

“not wandering,” she mumbled. “i’m sitting.” a bit of annoyance crept into her voice. apparently, liquor couldn't stop dabi from pissing her off so quickly. “okay, sitting where?” he asked, now sounding both amused and irritated. “what? did you pass out in an alley or something?”

y/n rolled her eyes, which only made her dizziness worse. “ugh, no. i’m in a… bar.”

dabi paused, then let out an exaggerated sigh. “of course. a bar. you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“just come get me, touya,” she grumbled, her voice slurred but laced with irritation. “unless you want me to blow chunks on someone's shoes. your call.”

he clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated but now understanding the situation. “you’re such a mess, y/n. fine. send me the address.”

“yeah, yeah,” she muttered, fumbling to type it out. “thanks, touya.” she smiled to herself. "knew you'd come through even if you're a dick about it."

"don't push it," he snapped before hanging up. even though he'd put on an act like he didn't care, she knew he'd show up. and, despite himself, so did he.

---

it wasn’t long before the rumble of a car engine cut through the night air outside the bar. y/n groggily looked up as dabi stepped inside, his usual scowl firmly in place as his eyes swept the room. the second he spotted her slumped over in the booth, he shook his head and made his way over.

“seriously?” he grumbled as he stood in front of her, arms crossed. “this is the state you’ve gotten yourself into?”

y/n glanced up at him, her head spinning as she tried to focus. “don’t… don’t start,” she mumbled, her words slurring together. “i’m not in the mood for your shit.”

“too bad. you’re in no position to make demands,” he shot back, leaning down to help her up. he wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling her lean heavily against him. “let’s get you out of here before you make a scene.”

“hey, i can walk,” y/n protested half-heartedly, but the moment she tried to stand, her legs buckled beneath her. dabi’s grip tightened, and he half-dragged her toward the exit.

“yeah, sure you can,” he said dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “you’re a real lightweight, you know that?”

“shut up, touya,” she grumbled, though the annoyance in her voice was overshadowed by a hint of affection. “you’re not my dad.”

“wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, pushing open the passenger door of his car and easing her inside. “but someone has to make sure you don’t drown in your own stupidity.”

“whatever,” y/n muttered as she settled into the seat, her head resting against the window. “i could handle myself fine… if you weren’t so annoying.”

“annoying, huh?” he shot back, sliding into the driver’s seat and giving her a sideways glance. “you know, you called me. but hey, if you wanted my attention, this wasn’t the way to go about it.”

“because you’re the best at picking people up from bars,” she replied, a slight smirk on her lips. but then her expression faltered, and she turned serious. “i… i really appreciate it, you know?”

“don’t get all mushy on me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “it’s not like i’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. i’ve got a reputation to uphold, and rescuing your drunk ass is just good PR.”

“you’re such a brat,” y/n shot back, though her heart fluttered at his teasing. “i’d like to see you handle it better.”

“please, i wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this,” he replied, his tone dripping with disdain as he pulled away from the curb. “besides, if i didn’t show up, who else would have to deal with your mess? i’ve got a reputation to uphold, remember?”

“right, because you care so much about your reputation,” she said sarcastically, turning her gaze to the window, watching the city lights blur past. “you’re just here for the free entertainment.”

“entertainment? you think this is funny?” he replied, glancing at her with an eyebrow raised. “watching you stumble around like a newborn deer isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“well, at least i’m amusing,” y/n shot back, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “you should thank me for keeping your life exciting.”

“exciting, huh?” he scoffed. “more like a headache. i’d rather face a horde of heroes than babysit you in a bar.”

“oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “you secretly love it.” y/n reached into the pocket of her hoodie, pulling out the smaller bottle of alcohol she bought earlier.

“love it? not even close,” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you’re lucky i have a soft spot for lost causes.”

“lost cause, huh?” she challenged, feeling a rush of emotion she couldn’t quite suppress. she lifted it to her lips, taking a singular swig before it was snatched from her hands. a bit of it dripped down her chin, and dabi rolled his window down before throwing it out. the sound of the glass shattering against the pavement echoed a second later.

"what the hell, touya!" she yelled, using her sleeve to wipe the liquor from her face. "that was mine!" she fussed.

"not anymore," he said flatly, glancing at her before his eyes returned to the road. "you're not drinking any more tonight. it's a miracle you were even able to walk back there."

"you don't get to decide that," she snapped, a flash of anger igniting in her chest as tears pricked her eyes. but deep down, a familiar wave of emotions washed over her, stirring something fragile. "you're such a-"

"a what? a what?" he challenged, cutting her off. "a responsible person? you think i want to see you hurt yourself more than you already have?"

"you don't get it," she said, her voice trembling as her frustration morphed into something more vulnerable. "i don’t want to get it, y/n. stop doing this to yourself if you don't want to paint that image for your name."

“i’m not that bad.”

“keep telling yourself that,” he said, glancing at her as they hit a red light. “but here you are, drunk and needing a ride home.”

“yeah, well…” y/n started, but the warmth of the alcohol mixed with her frustration made her voice waver. “at least you came.”

“you really think that highly of yourself, huh?” he shot back, though there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. “just be grateful i did.” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “i am grateful, you jerk,��� she said, her voice suddenly small as she looked down at her lap, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “you’re the only one who shows up when i need help.”

“yeah, well, don’t go getting all sappy on me,” he warned, trying to maintain his usual bravado, but the way his eyes softened gave him away. “it’s not like i’m doing this for the accolades.”

“sure, keep pretending you don’t care,” she replied, feeling the warmth of vulnerability creeping in. “but i see through your tough-guy act.” she shrugged.

“whatever,” he said, pulling into her driveway and turning off the engine. “let’s get you inside before you throw up in my car.”

“you just want to get rid of me,” she teased, but there was an undercurrent of something more serious beneath her words.

“you’re not wrong,” he said, smirking as he opened the door for her. “but it’s not because i don’t want you around. it’s just that your idea of a good time and mine are clearly on different planets.”

“how sweet of you, really,” she said dryly, though with a tone of sarcasm. “you’re lucky i’m feeling generous tonight.”

“generous? is that what you’re calling this?” he laughed, helping her out of the car and steadying her as she swayed slightly. “more like a recipe for disaster,” he retorted with a snarky tone. “shut up, touya,” she said, her voice softer now as they walked toward the door. “just… thanks for being here.”

“don’t mention it,” he replied, his tone lightening a bit. “but if you ever do this again, i’m leaving you to fend for yourself.”

“noted,” she said, a little too aware of how much she wished she could reach out and grab his hand, the feelings simmering beneath the surface threatening to spill over. “but you’re going to be there. i know it.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head as he watched her fumble with her keys. “just don’t go falling for me or something.”

her heart raced and she stayed silent, making dabi give her a glance that showed him trying to read her expression. she made sure to turn away from him, especially when he called her name. “gonna try to get some sleep,” she quickly said, using the guardrail to get upstairs and to her room.

y/n felt the wave of nausea wash over her as she laid on her bed, the world spinning around her. the bitter warmth of the alcohol still lingered on her tongue, a reminder of the night’s escapades. she groaned softly, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the throbbing in her head. as the room tilted and swayed, she pushed herself up just enough to pull the blankets over her body, seeking comfort in their warmth.

it wasn't long before she heard the familiar sound of the door creaking open. dabi stepped inside, his usual scowl firmly in place as he leaned against the doorframe. “what a sight,” he muttered, glancing around her room. “you look like you’ve been through a blender.”

“thanks for the compliment,” y/n mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. she felt a bit of embarrassment wash over her as dabi sauntered over and sat on the edge of her bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through it. a part of her wanted to feel grateful, but the way he acted—like he was doing her a favor—was hard to ignore.

---

half an hour ticked by, the silence punctuated only by the sound of his scrolling. but y/n's nausea began to build again, the urge to throw up clawing at her insides like a feral animal. she bit her lip, feeling the heat rise in her throat as she fought against it, but it was no use.

"touya," she whispered, her voice hoarse and shaky. he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "hey, you alright?" he asked, but his tone was more sarcastic than concerned.

"not really," she muttered, clutching her stomach. before he could retort, she stumbled toward the bathroom, barely managing to reach the toilet before the contents of her stomach surged forth.

"nice going, genius," dabi called after her, his voice dripping with mockery. "you're really winning at this whole 'not throwing up' thing."

y/n heaved, feeling the world tilt precariously beneath her. the bitter taste of the alcohol mixed with the remnants of her dinner assaulted her senses, and she groaned, tears brimming in her eyes.

dabi was right behind her, his cool presence both annoying and comforting as he knelt beside her. "just breathe, y/n," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "try not to make this a regular thing, okay? i’ve got better things to do than babysit you."

as she gasped for air, she could feel his hand resting gently on her back, and despite his snark, there was a genuine concern in his touch. leaning into his hand, she felt a flicker of gratitude amid the chaos.

finally, the wave of nausea receded, leaving her breathless and trembling. dabi stayed close, waiting until she could lift her head and look at him. "feeling better?" he asked, his tone still laced with sarcasm.

"yeah," she whispered, her voice thick with sleepiness.

y/n felt like a train wreck as she sat hunched over the toilet, the remnants of her night swirling in her stomach like a storm. the bitter warmth of the alcohol lingered, and each heave felt like a betrayal to her body. just when she thought she was done, another wave hit her, and she groaned in frustration.

"seriously?" dabi’s voice cut through the haze, low and unimpressed. he leaned against the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed, his expression somewhere between annoyance and concern. "you’ve got to be the worst drunk i’ve ever seen."

"thanks for the encouragement," she managed, glaring at him with half fury, half exhaustion. "what are you doing here, anyway? i thought you didn’t want to babysit me."

"don’t flatter yourself," he shot back, but there was an undercurrent of something softer in his eyes. "i just didn’t want to deal with you throwing up in my car. that’s a real hassle."

"nice to know my well-being is your top priority," she replied sarcastically, but the dizziness made it hard to keep up her bravado. she stumbled back into her room, leaning against the wall as she caught her breath.

dabi followed, eyeing her critically. "you didn’t answer my question earlier, you know. when i said, 'don’t go falling for me,' you totally dodged that." his tone was light, but there was a seriousness in his gaze.

y/n rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off. "what do you care, anyway? you’re always so mean to me!"

crossing his arms again as he leaned against the wall "you don’t get to deflect now. just tell me, why didn’t you respond?"

"maybe i didn’t think it was worth addressing," she replied, her voice shaky, but his intensity made it hard to dismiss him. "really? because it sounded like you were trying to avoid something," he said, narrowing his gaze.

she let out a frustrated huff, flopping onto her bed. "i don’t know, touya. you make it hard to breathe sometimes. i get that you think you’re being helpful, but your sarcasm feels like a shield. and it hurts because i—"

"what is it, y/n?"

"i can’t help but feel something for you," she blurted out, exasperated. "even though you’re mean and a total brat, i… i like having you around, even when you act like you don’t care. and that just makes me feel more frustrated, like i’m some lost cause."

"y/n," he began, but she wasn’t done.

"you push me away, and i don’t understand why. you’re so pretty and infuriatingly attractive, and i hate that i’m drawn to you, but here we are." she sighed, the weight of her confession pressing heavily on her. "and i’m sorry for being a mess. i really am, but sometimes it feels like you’re the only one who sees me. even if it’s from a distance."

dabi watched her in silence, his expression shifting from annoyance to something deeper. "you think that’s what i’m doing?" he asked finally, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. "pushing you away?"

"maybe," she admitted, feeling the heaviness of the alcohol wrapping around her thoughts. "i don’t know. i just… i feel like every time i try to get closer, you shut me out. it’s like you want to keep me at arm’s length."

he was quiet for a moment, and she could see the gears turning in his head. "and you think i want you to feel like shit?" he asked finally, his tone softer now. "you’re not some joke to me, y/n. you’re just… complicated."

"complicated, huh?" she snorted, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. "that’s one way to put it. you’re so busy being an asshole that you don’t see how much i wish things were different."

"different how?" dabi asked, genuinely intrigued, and for a moment, it felt like she had his full attention.

y/n fidgeted on the bed, her heart racing as she tried to gather her thoughts. "different as in… sometimes i wish you could see me for more than just a nuisance," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "i get that i can be a mess, but it feels like i’m always just… your project to fix."

dabi shifted his weight, an unreadable expression on his face. "you really think i see you that way?" he asked, his tone surprisingly soft.

"i don’t know," she replied, frustration creeping back in. "you’re always so wrapped up in your own world, and it makes me feel like i’m chasing after you for attention. i guess… i just wish you could let me in. i want to be someone you want around, not just someone you tolerate."

he remained silent, watching her with an intensity that made her heart flutter and ache all at once. "you’re not just a project, y/n." he finally said, his voice low. "but you’ve got to understand that i’m not great at this stuff. i’m not the guy who knows how to make things easy."

"yeah, i get that. but…" she sighed, struggling to find the right words. "it’s hard not to feel something more when you’re the one who shows up for me, even when i’m at my lowest. it’s like i can’t help but want you to be part of my life, in every way. and that scares me."

dabi opened his mouth as if to respond, but then fell silent again, letting the weight of her words hang between them. y/n could feel the tears pricking at her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting to show that kind of vulnerability. "i’m such a dumbass," she mumbled, forcing a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. "i shouldn’t be pouring my heart out to you when i’m like this."

"y/n—"

"no, really, forget it," she interrupted, her voice cracking. "i just… i don’t want you to think i’m some lovesick idiot or anything. it’s just hard to ignore what i feel when you’re right here, acting like you don’t care. i’m sorry for being such a mess."

dabi let out a sigh, unable to speak, and only shook his head in frustration. y/n wasn’t the only one at a crossroads. he too knew that there was something up with the way he felt. he always felt it, but the feeling only got stronger when he was around y/n. the feelings brought him confusion, and dabi hated that feeling, hence the reason why he took it out on y/n anytime they were in the same vicinity of one another.

right now, he was failing to realize his true feelings. he failed to point out what it was exactly. he hated the feeling, and as he stared down at y/n, whose eyes were gradually heavying with sleep as stray tears dried, it only worsened.

he knew something was there, and it killed him since he didn’t know what.

---

as the morning light streamed through the curtains, y/n slowly stirred awake on her bed, the remnants of last night flooding her mind like a relentless tide. the dull ache in her head reminded her of the shots she'd had-and the impulsive confession she'd made to dabi. she sat up, rubbing her temples, and glanced around her room, half-expecting to find him sprawled beside her. but the bed was empty, and a wave of relief washed over her.

after a moment, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor cool against her bare feet. y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. she stood up, feeling slightly unsteady, and made her way to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and brush the taste of last night's mistakes from her mouth. the cool water helped, but did little to erase the embarrassment now gnawing at her chest.

once she felt somewhat human again, she headed downstairs, the house settling into its usual stillness. glancing into the living room, y/n was surprised to see dabi lying on the couch, still fast asleep. the sight of him made her cringe, her mind replaying fragments of last night's disaster. she sighed, scolding herself as she stepped into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove.

the kettle's whistle was loud, painfully so, and she cringed, knowing it might wake him. grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, she placed them on the counter, her mind swirling with thoughts of how to navigate the morning ahead. she wanted to avoid him, but the temptation to face him and clear the air was stronger.

while the memories of the night were hazy, she recalled enough to feel mortified-her indirect confession, the sting of tears, and the bitter taste of regret. she felt like a mess, and her pounding headache only confirmed it.

y/n rubbed her eyes, trying to shake the weight of last night's events, but dabi's voice cut through her thoughts.

"morning."

she poured hot water over the tea bags she'd placed in the mugs, nodding in response as she turned to hand him one. his hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled, and the remnants of sleep lingered in his eyes. "morning," she muttered quietly.

just as she was about to leave the kitchen, his hand caught her wrist. "what are you doing?"

her gaze avoided his, her usual confidence nowhere to be found until he spoke up again. "about last night-"

"forget about last night," she interrupted, her voice wavering. "i was drunk. didn't mean to say all that bullshit. i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing?"

"because last night was a complete shit-show. i can't handle my liquor, and i don't even know why i drank so much, but i regret it. i put us in an awkward situation, and i'm sorry for that." she spoke in one hurried breath, not giving him a chance to respond before continuing. "i'm not expecting anything from you out of pity for feelings i know can't be returned. i just... i'm sorry."

she tried to pull away from his grip, but he held her in place. "touya, it's fine. let go. keeping me here, forcing me to face you, is torture."

"you done whining?"

"i'm not whining." her brow furrowed as she finally met his gaze with a glare. he set his tea down on the counter, and before she could react, his hands were on her cheeks, pulling her in close.

"touya..." she whispered cautiously.

"don't freak out."

and with that, his lips were on hers, warm and firm, leaving no room for doubt. it was a rash decision on dabi's part, driven by a feeling he didn't fully understand. but it was real, and for once, he wasn't running from it.

there was no hesitation, no second thoughts, just the warmth of the moment. y/n's hands instinctively gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as their lips moved in sync. dabi's hand slipped to her waist, tugging her toward him until their bodies were pressed together, a sigh escaping his lips.

the kiss broke suddenly, leaving y/n breathless and dabi smirking slightly. "i think that went better than your confession. i win."

"shut up, touya. it's not a competition."

"oh yeah?" he teased, but his voice softened as he let out a deep sigh. for dabi, apologies didn't come naturally. he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze as he leaned against the counter. "look," he began gruffly, "i'm not good at this. feelings, whatever. you already know that, so don't act surprised."

y/n remained silent, her eyes focused on him, waiting.

"i didn't mean to make you think i didn't care," he continued, clearly struggling with his words. "i just... don't do all the emotional crap. alright?"

the silence between them was palpable, her gaze heavy on him as he clenched his jaw in frustration.

"i don't know what the hell i'm supposed to say. i didn't even realize i was feeling... anything until recently. and you think i know how to handle that?" he laughed dryly, rubbing a hand over his face. "i'm not used to it. but i don't want you thinking i don't give a damn."

finally, he met her eyes, his expression more serious than usual. "i want to be with you. i don't know how to say it right, and i'll probably mess up again, but... i'm not blowing you off. this is just... new for me."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, half-turning as if he were done, but then muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear, "i care, y/n. more than i thought i could. so... there. happy now?"

it wasn't the most graceful confession, but for dabi, it was as close to vulnerability as y/n had ever seen. and she accepted it, even if she couldn't resist teasing him.

"wow, touya," she said, crossing her arms. "that was almost... cute. maybe you should write a book on feelings. 'how not to apologize 101."

"oh, fuck off, y/n."

with a sudden pull, dabi wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her toward the couch. "what are we doing?" she asked, stumbling slightly. "barely got any sleep last night because of you," he grumbled, settling back and pulling her onto his chest. "so, we're fixing that." he sighed. "what if i don't want to sleep?"

"you do realize talking to me instead of sleeping is like asking a cat to fetch, right?" he groaned, pulling her closer.

"fine."

"thanks," he muttered, closing his eyes. "and y/n?" his voice was soft now. "hmm?" she questioned.

"i'm shit at communication so i know i don't have the right to say this, but promise me it won't take you getting wasted to tell me something that important again."

"deal."

"no. say you promise."

"i promise, touya."

with a kiss on her forehead, silence fell between them-this time, it was peaceful, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the night before.

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