#i did this a few days ago which was meant to be a quick piece showcasing harvey's whole deal but alas i got carried away lol

[pinewoods-art]

[coconutdays]

study week!

s. your boyfriend deserves some special treatment after working so hard and you think you know the best way to treat him, you think

w.c. 4.9k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: this was halfway written in my drafts and I know I haven't posted him in a while, so I thought id treat my girlies for what they fell for me for in the first place and finish it

it's midterms week and as difficult as it's been for your dear boyfriend suguru, you can't stop yourself from being a bit of an obstacle for him yourself.

he's waiting for you outside of your french studies lecture in the morning when you can see his slightly tired eyes rake across the cleavage bared by your low-cut blouse. then to the short mini-skirt and pantyhose lining your legs. and your lips, you're wearing his favorite lipgloss, the one that always has him pushing you onto your knees and sucking him dry.

"hey baby." he smiles a little, taking the almost too large water bottle from your hands and reaching down to hold one of your hands while you walked, "you look beautiful."

"hi," you snuggle into his arm, hoping he didn't see the slight quirk of your lips at his obvious stare just a few seconds ago, "did you study as much as you wanted this morning?"

suguru nods, thumb caressing your hand as he sighs, "yes, although I do wish I could've finished earlier and had more time to get ahead on that project."

that project. the one that had been taking up most of the time for the past two weeks, more so this one right before his exam and presentation came up for his Japanese architecture class.

it had been only last semester the two of you started dating after the close to masterful planning of satoru gojo that led to your hookup with the charming brunette on halloween night. you had no other classes together when the spring semester came around and you both obviously missed it at times like these, when the added ninety minutes of just getting to even be together in lecture and spare time of studying the class material together could've more easily satiated the want of each other's presence

this semester he had Japanese architecture and although the class was fairly easy, he had to work on a hefty group presentation that took up over thirty percent of his grade, and he being the ever meticulous student, was doing everything in his power to make sure he would get his A+, which meant being taken prisoner by his assigned group in the library to piece together the presentation most days. and when he wasn't, he was studying for his other classes and making the most of any interaction he could with you, be it by texting, FaceTime, or getting a quick dessert at the cafe near the school campus with you.

but not sex.

"'m sorry. that sucks," you pout for him, peering up at him through your eyelashes purposefully, "wish I could make it a solo project, so you wouldn't have to rely on other people for your grade."

suguru spares you a small glance before tiredly looking you and shining his warm smile down at you, "well it's already too late for the professor to change his mind, so I'll bear it through."

suguru tears his gaze away from you so he can guide the both of you across the street to the previously mentioned cafe. when you make it across the street and continue walking to the ever growing close cafe, your boyfriend strikes another topic.

"how was class though? did you get the material?"

you nod your head eagerly and upon realizing he can't see you do it because of his guiding, you voice, "yea! it was relatively easy, shouldn't take me more than an hour or two to brush up on what I need for the test."

"good." he hums, opening the door for you to the cafe, never letting go of your hand, "and your other classes?"

and there came the reason as to why you felt so free to mess around with him in the first place. you barely even had midterms, luckily enough this time around. you only had your French midterm and the studying barely even counted as something to be stressed about when it was just like overlooking the normal homework being assigned in the class. and your other classes...well it was pure luck that your professors didn't care to give one and if they did, they instead spread them around to conveniently happen before and after midterms like any other normal test. god knows you're happy they didn't pile up into one week like they did for your boyfriend, his poor poor soul. a poor soul so restricted by his other responsibilities during this short time span that you just wanted to tease him for all he's got.

"I already started my study review for my international business relations class yesterday, so I'll be fine when the test comes around next month." you beam proudly, grateful that the university gods had been kind to you and to yourself for staying on track to your planner.

"good girl" suguru's eyes crease when he gets in line to order with you and brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it. the action is mindless, just like his response, it was natural for him to praise you. and considering his avoidance of your sex life ever since those cruel cruel cruel classmates of his started dragging him into the study rooms of the library as of last week, it was purely innocent, with no intention of riling you up.

but it did.

and you can't help but think of the last time you and suguru had sex, the exact morning of the day he had received the news from his professor that he would have to group up with other people for a good grade.

he had eaten you out for close to an hour because he felt like it. it was slow and sensual the entire time, he never listened to your pleas to go faster, telling you to take it like he knows his good girl would, and although it wasn't the cruel speed you begged for most of the time, it still brought you over the edge in a many pleasing and toe curling way.

the thought had you blushing at the fact the person you held those memories with was right next you, being domestic, and leading you to an empty booth while he carried your desserts in a bag.

craving the touch of your boyfriend, you refuse to sit across from him, and squeeze yourself next to him in the booth, the action makes him caress your thigh warmly before he sets out napkins and puts each of your preferred sweets on their respective places.

you're halfway through your dessert when you push yourself onto suguru and pout, "I miss you sugu."

he places a firm yet soft hand on top of your head to caress it, "I miss you too. I'll be all yours tomorrow."

"what?" he wasn't supposed to be free until three days time

"my group decided they wanted to turn in the project today to get it over with, which I'm up for by all means. and my calculus professor felt merciful last night. he gave passes for the midterms to the students with no late assignments and As."

you try your best to hide the devious excitement in your eyes and instead smile endearingly, "that's so good! we can go eat at that viet restaurant I dmed you."

suguru takes your non pastry sticky hand and brings it onto his lap as he gazes into your eyes, "I'd rather cook for you tomorrow."

your curiosity overtakes your predatory instinct and you bat your lashes at him when you ask, "what are you thinking of making?"

"risotto,"he hums, before he leans forward a bit and kisses the corner of your mouth. when he pulls back he smirks a little at the flustered look on your face.

"you had some strawberry filling." he points out before placing another kiss at the top of your head, rubbing a tentative hand at the back of your head in doing so, "let's finish the pastries so I can buy you a matcha latte before my class."

and just like that, he had made your resolve weaken, yet again, like always, your intent on seducing him forgotten for the meantime due to his proficiency at making your mind a puddle.

you find yourself in the library, hours later in the afternoon, studying with your friend at the same time suguru is meeting with his group.

and...soooooo conveniently sitting at a desk right in front of the glass door of one of the library's large group session cubicles, that just so happens to be hosting your boyfriend and his classmates.

your luck worked out perfectly and you thanked whatever mightier being there was when you saw suguru seated at the far end of the table with no one in front of him, allowing him the perfect view of you from across those few feet and glass door.

you see his eyes light up as he tries to listen to whatever one of his groupmates is saying while sharing a loving look with you.

perfect.

suguru

are you going to study pretty?

by the time you see the message from him, he has his arms folded over each other as he speaks to the other people in the room. god you wish you could hear him speaking right now. he was 100% giving some sort of smart nerd dialect input and you did everything in your power not to remember the time he tutored you in a class he had already taken last semester, using that same voice.

that time,

you had asked for a prize if you got all his questions correct

and he had been more than happy to give when you did

the specifics of which you didn't let yourself fret on more when you typed away to answer him

y/n

mhm I need to practice a speech for french.

and you left your phone on the desk with the screen facing down as you continued to your studies, conniving your next plan of action as you typed away at your computer.

about thirty minutes had passed when suguru was finally allowed a moment of peace, a moment of tranquility from having to explain a million times why comic sans was not the most ideal font to use.

and he was going to reach for his phone, to see what you had answered–he felt the buzz in his pocket–but couldn't look due to his previous debate with his classmates, when he spotted a quite inviting sight.

where you had been sitting basically face to face with suguru, with your friend next you, now you had your back to him as you practiced your speech in front of your friend.

it wasn't really useful, she didn't understand, it was more so to have someone to make eye contact with.

well more so,

an excuse to stand up and bend over a little every once a while so your skirt rode up just the right amount.

you bent over when you hand your phone to your friend to time you, you bent over to get a quick look at your computer, your speech written on it. you bent over to type something quick, a meaningless note, but a meaningful excuse for you.

you're not flashing him outright, of course, there was still a possibility of any one of his group mates accidentally getting a glance of whatever you rescinded to your boyfriend in these minutes; but you are teasing him. he loves these skirts on you. he's especially a bigger fan of the pantyhose, considering this was the only surviving pair you could find. so you know that he's letting his memory and imagination undress the sight before him as well as entice him.

you're glad you didn't unlock your phone when you gave it to your friend to time you, choosing to slide up for the clock on the lock screen, when after an hour of perfecting the speech you didn't need until two weeks time, she says, "geto texted you by the way, a couple minutes ago."

you take your phone from her as you go to sit down, facing suguru again for the first time in an hour, and you don't know if he's resorted to playing your mind games too, but the sight is knee buckling.

he's got his hair in that half up, half down combo that never fails to make you ravenous. and he's biting his cheek as he listens yet again to whoever and looks down at his computer screen every once in a while.

why did he always look so unaffected by everything, god.

you force yourself to look at the messages he sent you earlier

suguru

try your speech on me when you get the chance, okay?

how long are you going to be here? do you want me to take you home after we finish the project?

y/n

I'll make it my first priority! and I'm about to leave :/ I still have to do a quiz at home with my camera on in about two hours, wanna get it done before the hour mark.

you get up seconds after sending the text to suguru to put your belongings away. the task was easy considering you didn’t take much out of your bag. and when you started to close it, you felt a firm and soft hand tugging you towards them. 

suguru was in front of you now, sitting at the edge of your desk, tugging you close to him so you stood between his legs, which were unavoidably manspreading for you.

“five at my place tomorrow?” he’s softly quirking an eyebrow at you in question, holding both of your hands close to him

“I’ll be there,” you nod

he smiles at you in response, then juts his chin a little in the direction of your friend behind you–mindlessly scrolling through her phone as she waits for your conversation with your boyfriend to end–and asks, “are you getting a ride? I don’t like the idea of you walking by yourself, especially when it’s so close to sundown.���

you have to resist the way his protectiveness of you makes your skin crawl and want to jump onto him and force yourself to nod, “yea. she’s dropping me off after this. i need to give her one of the books we read for lit last semester anyways, she needs it for a class.”

“alright then.” suguru pulls both of your hands to his lips and gives a kiss to each one before getting up. he stands tall before you like he always does. “text me when you get home.”

“I will,” you say as he raises his hands to hold both sides of your face to pull you into a kiss. he keeps it calm and fluttering, so the most you can manage to retrieve out of him is a slight sharp inhale when your tongue softly grazes his lower lip. 

he still has his hands on your face when he places a small kiss at the top of your forehead and mutters, “i love you.”

“I love you too.” you say back, basking in his touch, knowing it’ll be close to a full day before you can see him like this again.

y/n 

Im homeeeeeeee!

finished the quiz too, wasn’t as hard as i thought it would be

suguru

nice job baby

have you eaten yet?

y/n 

im making a fruit salad :p have a sweet tooth right now

are you done with the project???

suguru

thankfully, yes. It was getting very difficult to see everyone use comic sans by default today. all i have to do is study for the test now, i can do that on my own without worrying about them. 

ill make a peach cobbler for you tomorrow, for your sweet tooth

y/n

aw for lil ol me??

suguru

yes for lil ol you miss coy

ill text you in a bit, im going home

your conversation continued when suguru got home, minimally if any, knowing youd talk on the phone before one of you headed to bed later that night. he did have to study after and so did you. which was why you saved your seductive attempts for until then.

“I liked your outfit today baby. It was cute,” you could hear your boyfriend repeatedly tossing a small stress ball up into his ceiling faintly. he was in bed already just as you were.

the comment made your ears perk up, “you did?”

“yeah, i didn’t know there was still a pair of pantyhose left.” 

“I didn’t either,” you sheepishly admitted, “i found it in the back of my drawer on saturday and thought id wear it.”

“wear them tomorrow, “ suguru added casually

“okay, ill–”

“don’t wear panties either.” 

your eyes widened a little, “but your bike–”

“what about my bike?”

he was picking you up tomorrow on his bike, like he always did. and you had to sit on his bike, on that leather seat with the incoming wind, your skirt, the pantyhose, no underwear…

“I thought we were having dinner.”

“we are, im making the risotto and peach cobbler for us,” he still sounds like he’s discussing any casual dinner arrangement, “don’t wear panties under the pantyhose.”

“why are you making those demands anyway,” you try to poke at him, as if you didn’t want to do that for him, to see if you could rile him up like you still wanted to these last two weeks, “you haven’t been horny for two weeks.”

“did i tell you i wasn’t?”

the authoritative question had you rubbing your thighs against each other, “no…but you weren’t acting that way either.”

“like you?” 

even on the phone it was hard to escape him, and he made it oh so delicious, even if it did always intimidate you.

“Is it so wrong to want you,” the pout in your voice clear

“no,” suguru comforts, “not at all.”

then, just as he knows he has you on an intense precipice in the conversation, he begins to end the call.

“sleep well pretty,” you can hear the love for you he has through it, as if he wasn’t just backing you into a corner seconds ago, “we’ve had a long day, and i need to get up a bit earlier than usual to get some groceries before i head to the gym.”

“sleep well too,” you huff and you can hear suguru’s laugh

“I love you beautiful."

“I love you too.”

suguru acts like a saint when he picks you up, like he's completely unaware to the fact that you're wearing pantyhose with no panties under your skirt, even though he asked for it.

"hey beautiful," he smiles when he leans down to peck your lips, "you ready to go?"

"yeah," you breathe, genuinely excited to spend time with your boyfriend for the first time in two weeks, uninterrupted

you arrived to your boyfriend's apartment with the most drenched pantyhose known to man. and you were too scared to see if any of your slick left a trail on his motorcycle. and although there was a certain buildup...down there...this had to be considered some sort of psychological torture.

because suguru had not made a sexual move on you the entire dinner, even through dessert.

nothing.

so here you were, stuck making casual conversation with your boyfriend, pussy basically exposed, and paranoid about his next move.

"satoru should not be eating that many macaroons a day. I know he loves them, but that's got to be some sort of crime." you discuss while taking a sip of your wine, "there has to be some economic surplus and deficit issue going on there."

"babe, you've had macaroon mukkbangs with him in front of me."

you pucker your lips in response to your boyfriend's unwavering ability to bring the facts right to your face.

"okay, but he does it way more often than me. consider that. I have to train for a whole month to do that. satoru does it back to back."

"there is that," suguru agrees, eyes flickering to the plate that had just been served with a slice of peach cobbler minutes ago, "and I take it you liked the peach cobbler."

"yes!" you nod eagerly, planting an excited fist on the dining table, "I love that my boyfriend is such a good chef."

"and I love that my girlfriend eats well," suguru responds warmly as he gets up and picks up both of your plates, placing them in the dishwasher before saying, "I'm glad you liked it though. I love watching you enjoy what I make."

suguru then takes your hand, while you're seated, and places a fleeting kiss on the back of it.

"let's go to the bedroom."

god, he just says that and you're ruining the pantyhose even more now.

"okay," you nod, getting up and letting him lead the way to his room.

he doesn't say much during the quick few steps until he opens the door and shuts it behind him.

"you're not wearing panties, right, sweet girl?"

you turn around to look at him, shaking your head earnestly, "no sir."

he walks up to you and takes your head in his palm affectionally, brushing a careful thumb across your cheek while he looks at you lovingly, "good."

"get on your knees then baby."

immediately you're sinking onto the ground and suguru is unbuckling his belt for you, already pulling out his rock hard cock.

on instinct, you open your mouth and suguru takes the invitation without hesitation, popping the tip of his dick against the inside of your cheek again and again.

"those pantyhose must be ruined beyond repair right now, aren't they?"

"mhm" you nod as best you can considering what he's using your mouth for.

"god, I can't wait to rip a hole in them." he hisses while he starts to slide his shaft up and down in your mouth.

its your queue to start sucking him off like you know how to. you hollow your cheeks and let all the spit build up in your mouth, even if it does start to run down your mouth and onto your chest and the floor. every time he nearly pulls out, you swirl your tongue around the underside of his swollen head, and you love the way his hips jut up just a bit at the action.

suguru's let you take the reigns now, instead placing a loving hand on the side of your head and making sure your hair doesn't get in your face.

"missed this pretty face getting messy for my cock." he breathes, grip growing by just a smidge on your hair, "missed it so much. couldn't even fuck your face to get my stress out baby."

he sees the excitement simmer in your eyes and suguru leans over a bit, "what do you say sweet girl, want me to fuck your little throat?"

you nod feverishly, suckling on his tip to show enthusiasm.

suguru gives you a small smile in return while he pinches your cheek affectionately.

"good girl."

he starts to move your head up and down his length at a leisurely place, something not too drastic, where you can feel and taste him coherently

until he suddenly speeds up the pace unforgivingly

"there, there, "he groans almost, staring at your face, "fuck, you're such a filthy girl. what'd I do to get such a pretty slut like you?"

the vulgar praise makes you moan, and the vibrations from your throat make him react the same way

"if I weren't saving my cum for my pussy right now baby, I'd fill your mouth again and again until you're practically spilling." he utters, still jack hammering into your mouth and you're doing everything you can to not let yourself gag,

"you like helping me destress beautiful?" he says desperately, cheeks growing a tinge red as he locks eyes with you

suguru's hips give a warning stutter when you nod, and he suddenly pulls out, and brings you up by an arm, turning you around so he can yank your skirt down.

"fuck." is all that leaves his lips darkly before he helps you take your shirt off and pushes you towards the bed.

"all fours baby, near the edge, wanna get a good fucking view of that pussy."

"o-okay," you say, already ruined by his previous indulgence and in anticipation of what was to come.

you get on all fours immediately and without a moment's waste, suguru's already running a greedy hand up your soaked folds, practically stuck to the pantyhose

"fuck, you're going to kill me. thought I was gonna go insane yesterday."

slap!

suguru lands a painful strike on your pussy

"it's not nice to tease your boyfriend when he's working so hard for you sweetheart. almost lost my mind trying not to think about all the things I wanted to do to you on that library table."

then there's a loud tear, and suguru runs his tongue flat against your exposed folds without hesitation

he starts to literally makeout with your pussy, treating it the way he wants. as if your lips down there could respond to his own. it's all for his own pleasure, none of yours, and you don't mind, turned on way more by the fact that he's using your body in such a depraved way.

and so, because you figure tonight is all about him taking out his stress on you, suguru suddenly stops, and you can feel him sit down on the bed, dragging you to stand in front of him.

"sit on my dick baby," he says, turning you around to face your back towards him, hands gripping your waist.

"wait!" you start to whine for the first time tonight, "I can't do this one, it's too hard for me."

just as suguru was needy, you were needy too.

you wanted the easy relief of him pounding you from behind, with you on all fours. when you rode him him like this, bouncing up and down, it was such a trek. he was so big, even sitting on it was a great feat. and he poked your cervix so painfully every time you went back down like this.

"yeah you can," suguru praises, reaching a hand down to swipe his tip against your folds messily, using the other on your waist to bring you down a little, "you always end up loving how I fill you up when we do it like this sweet girl."

upset, but still eager to have him inside of you, you start to sink down onto him with a pout, unable to stop your mouth from dropping open at the delicious stretch he always gives you

"so fucking big." you whine when he's bottomed out and you feel like you can't breathe from how full he makes you feel

and maybe he was right, because when you pick your ass back up, the feeling of his dick passing through and massaging your pussy from the inside has you keening for more and you could care less about your cervix.

so now you're bouncing against him sporadically, having missed the feeling of him inside you for so long

"missed your dick so much sugu!" you whine, stabilizing your arms on his thighs, ignoring the burning in your legs

"oh my fucking god," he groans, landing a stinging spank on your ass, "I missed this wet little pussy so much too princess. fuck. keep going, dirty fucking girl. gonna buy a butt plug for you so you can wear it with this same little get up. look so fucking cute with a little bunny tail sticking out with this-fuck."

"mhm mhm."

"gonna be my bunny? since you're always looking for my dick? god, if I could keep you in bed all day just for me to fuck you I'd keep that pussy full to the brim."

"sug-sugu!"

"I know baby, I know," he groans, both hands now gripping your ass and pushing you back down again and again, "cum for me, I'll cum with you."

you feel your leg start to kick a little as a reaction to what's about to happen and suguru notices the small paralyzation overtaking your body as a result to the nearing bliss. so he sits up straight and hugs you tight, pummeling you from underneath

"ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod sugu sugu, im cumming im cumming!"

"cum for me baby," suguru says through each quick stroke, "oh my god I'm gonna fuck my load into this slutty fucking pussy. greedy fucking girl's milking it out of me."

and you feel suguru's cock spill inside of you in hard thrusts, giving you what you feel is one of the biggest loads ever, considering this is the first time the both of you have gone without sex with each other for more than two days.

suguru's still inside you when he pulls you onto the bed with him and reaches a hand down to massage your boob

"babe, you did cum a lot." you comment, feeling his load pool inside of you

"good," he breathes, "it'll look hot coming out of you with the pantyhose"

"...are you going to take a picture for your album"

"maybe"

[sooniebby]

Hi the Anon who asked if you knew JJBA! And I do have another fandom you do write for I’d like to request Which is Izuku x Male reader and the reader likes to where fem things sometimes and one day while hanging out with Izuku and they wear a skirt that is a bit too short and it’s gets Izuku riled up and with consent from reader plows there brains out. You can keep out the part where the reader likes to wear fem things sometimes I don’t mind it can be like the reader wore something too showy. Hope you have a great day!

ఌ 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔

❝ 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚 ❞

꧁ 𝙄𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Word count › 2.2k

Rating › NSFW

Warnings › none

Kinks › creampie

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

It wasn’t a secret that (Name) liked to occasionally dress a bit more feminine. He didn’t want to be a girl but he did like their clothes. It wasn’t something often—just a few times in his own room would he prance around in more traditionally girl clothes. 

His boyfriend, Izuku, technically knew. (Name) told him before they started dating but he never wore them in front of him. While (Name) had no shame in crossdressing that didn’t mean he wanted anyone to see him in it. 

It was for him and him alone. 

But it was beginning to get difficult to keep up with when Izuku moved in with him. The pro hero was hardly home but (Name) always got a nagging feeling that Izuku would somehow come home early one day. 

“(Name)?” 

A hum left his throat as Izuku pressed a soft kiss on his neck. Izuku was tall and more muscular than (Name). It made sense—(Name) didn’t do much physical labor with his job. Just sat at his in home work desk and typed away while his cat judge him from her cat tower. 

“I’ll be coming home later tonight, okay? Don’t wait for me to eat,” Izuku muttered before stealing a quick kiss from his boyfriend. (Name) grinned and said his goodbye as Izuku left for whatever job he had to do today. 

Later tonight, for Izuku, usually meant a few minutes before the sun rose the next day. Which meant…. 

(Name) could wear the new skirt he bought. 

It was a impulsive buy, really. He had told himself he was going to have to give up crossdressing and give away the clothes. So, he vowed not to buy anymore but when he was scrolling some online store—he saw two pieces that caused him to die inside. 

A nice baby blue skirt and a ‘virgin killer’ sweater. 

He bought it… 

It came a week ago when Izuku wasn’t home and sat in his closet, begging to be worn. 

And now it will be. 

(Name) sighed to himself and walked over to his bedroom, closing the door behind himself to keep his cat out. Taking out the box from his closet, he first pulled out the skirt. It felt a bit cheap in fabric but he would still try it on. Slipping off his shorts, he pulled up the skirt. 

Only for it to get caught on his boxers. 

And to rip… 

“Wow, fifteen dollars down the drain!” (Name) cursed, glaring the skirt. He pulled it off and threw it back into the box. The sweater was from a different website so maybe it’ll come out better than the skirt. He didn’t try to get his hopes up though. 

(Name) pulled out the sweater and blushed. He knew this was a bit risker than his other clothing. They were way more conservative than this sweater that would practically show off his ass and everything. He had never felt anything sexual toward cross dressing but this time around he could feel his cock twitching. 

He pursed his lips and slipped off his shirt. With a baited breath, the sweater felt soft against his skin as he put it on. (Name) glanced at the large mirror in the corner of the room before realising he needed to take off his boxers. 

With one swift pull, his boxers pooled around his feet as he pulled the sweater down to fully ‘cover’ his ass. It hardly covered it, especially with the wide open back that gave a peak at his cheeks. The air was cold against his skin but only made him like it even more. 

The sweater was a soft grey. A thick collar and strings to tie around his neck to keep the sweater from slipping off. (Name) giggled to himself as he turned sideways to get a peak at what his back could look like. 

It truly did give a small peak at his ass and easily rode up with any movement he did. 

This thing was made purely for sex. 

(Name) pursed his lips. He never masturbated in any of his clothes. It always felt weird to him. But this technically wasn’t a woman’s sweater dress. It was just a costume for sex. He stepped away from his boxers on the floor and walked to his nightstand to grab his dildo and lube. 

Well, he might as well enjoy this. 

He might never get the chance to wear it again. 

ꕤ

Izuku was so happy. It was one of the first times that his boss allowed him to leave early. Though dinner had certainly passed, at least he’d be getting home before sunrise. A smile was plastered on his lips his entire way to his shared apartment. 

He opened the door and was greeted by his boyfriend’s cat. “Ah, Biscuit.” Izuku picked up the cat and walked inside, taking off his shoes and coat. The cat purred in his arms as he called out for (Name). 

But he didn’t answer. 

Hm, did he fall asleep? 

The lights to their bedroom was on. Izuku placed Biscuit on her cat tower and walked over to his bedroom, ready to cuddle with his boyfriend until he saw something shocking. 

There was (Name) on the bed, dressed in something that was hardly covering him at all. He could smell the strawberry lube and visibly see a dildo on the floor that (Name) must’ve threw when he heard the door open. 

“You’re… uh,” (Name)’s breathing sounded stuttered. “Here early…” 

Izuku glanced down to see (Name) had a finger inside of himself. Oh, that explains it. He had done this before. Accidentally walk in on (Name) masturbating but it felt different now. 

He’s seeing him crossdressing. 

In the sluttiest outfit he had ever seen his boyfriend in. 

Izuku walked inside the room and closed the door behind himself, not saying anything. He watched (Name) squirm as he pulled out his fingers and try his hardest to cover himself by pulling down the sweater. 

“Is this the cross dressing you told me about?” 

“No… This is new…” (Name) muttered, shame etched on his face. 

Izuku walked over to him and kneeled down, right between his legs. (Name) blinked in shock, reaching down to grasp Izuku’s broad shoulders. The two stared at each other as a boyish grin appeared on Izuku’s lips. 

“You’re so cute.” 

That was all Izuku said before leaning down and licking at (Name)’s lubed hole. (Name) squealed in shock as he was manhandled to have his legs opened wide and rest on Izuku’s shoulders as he ate his dinner. 

(Name) really believed that Izuku would’ve been at least a bit put off by his more feminine side since he was a man but it seemed that Izuku liked it. Compared to the many other times Izuku rimmed him—this felt as if he’d die if he didn’t do it. 

Because of (Name) previous masturbation, Izuku’s tongue easily slid in and out. Gaining whimpers from his boyfriend. (Name) arched his back as his toes curled at this new Izuku. Muttering on and on about him being close to cum. 

But Izuku pulled away at that. (Name) whined in dissatisfaction but Izuku didn’t say anything. 

“You should’ve told me you liked to dress like this. We could’ve had more fun,” Izuku grinned. It was certainly a dirty way of thinking but with his more innocent looks, it felt more like he was talking about something less sinful. 

(Name) huffed. “I didn’t think you’d like it that much.” 

“I like you in whatever you wear.” Izuku said nonchalantly, not noticing that blush that appeared on (Name)’s face. 

(Name) watched as Izuku moved his legs off his shoulder and stood up, staring down at him. 

“How do you want it?” 

(Name) bit his lip. “Like you’ve missed me.” 

Izuku simply grinned as he guided (Name) to stand up. He took his spot on the bed, not before pulling down his pants to allow his cock to gain freedom. (Name)  blushed as Izuku reached over and travelled his hands across the open back of the sweater. 

(Name) loved the feeling of Izuku’s scarred hands on his back, tracing little circles on them. But Izuku wasn’t looking at him. He was looking behind him. (Name) looked back to see what was behind him only to notice the mirror. 

Fuck. He had moved it from it’s usual spot to look at himself in the clothes that he forgot to put it back. Izuku had a clear view of the sweater’s backside from just staring at the mirror and he seemed to notice that (Name) now knew from the knowing chuckle that left his lips. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. You chose to wear this for a reason.” 

(Name) pouted. “Yeah but I didn’t except you to see it.” 

“What do you mean? You’re always going to be seen by me,” Izuku said, having one hand slide down (Name)’s back before he easily grasped one ass check. It was still shocking to (Name) that Izuku’s hand could grip on ass check so easily. 

A whimper left his lips as he glared at Izuku but still leaned in closer, wanting to get past the teasing and into the fucking. 

“Izuku…” 

“Hm?” Izuku easily slipped in two fingers inside (Name) enjoying the squelching from the copious amount of lube he had used. (Name) huffed, soft whimpers leaving his throat as he tried to say what he wanted. 

Izuku used his free hand to pull at the sweater and free one of (Name)’s nipples. He leaned in and captured it in his mouth, enjoying the shriek he earned from his lover. (Name)’s nipples always got him worked up. 

(Name) gripped at Izuku’s hair and arched into his touch, his cock dejectedly twitching for some touch. His mouth was permanently opened with each moan or whimper that left his lips. Izuku’s fingers inside of him soon turned into four that thrusted in harshly inside. 

“Izuku!” He cried, feeling his prostate being violently touched against by his much larger fingers. 

Izuku simply hummed, gently biting on (Name)’s nipple as he continued to suckle on it. He pulled away a second later—(Name)’s red nipple dripping with salvia and perked up in the cold air. Leaning to the other side, Izuku captured his other nipple into his mouth to give it the same treatment. 

“Izuku… Izuku…” (Name) babbled, no longer able to handle the teasing. 

Izuku pulled away from his nipple, a string of salvia connected from his lips to the perky nipple.

“Apologise, first. Then I’ll fuck you.” 

“For what?” (Name) whimpered, crying out at the sudden pressing on his prostate. Izuku was now intentionally rubbing it—gaining nonstop cries from the man above him. He watched in glee as he lover tried his best to not collapse from the pleasure. 

“For not allowing me to see you like this more often.” 

(Name) cried out once more. His prostate was going to be the death of him. His cock twitched at each touch, pre cum dripping from it onto Izuku’s leg. 

“I’m, nng, sorry!” (Name) moaned, feeling his legs give out. He was only still up than on the floor was from Izuku’s hand holding his hips. 

“I forgive you~” 

Izuku pulled out his fingers and used hardly a percentage of his strength to manhandle (Name) onto his lap. 

“Now let me give you your reward.” 

ꕤ

(Name) was dying. His hole was aching and red as Izuku’s cock continued to abuse it. His own cock was dead—only dripping out watery left overs of cum after his third orgasm. Each thrust into his tight heat was sending him off the deep end. 

Izuku had (Name) on his lap while he gripped his waist tightly and used him like a fleshlight. Under any other circumstance, (Name) would’ve preferred missionary or doggy but this somehow felt right with the outfit he was still wearing. 

(Name) gasped at the tug on his nipple with Izuku’s teeth, gripping at Izuku’s thighs. It wasn’t a shock at how long Izuku could last compared to (Name). Izuku, despite his outer appearance, was way more into sex than him. 

Nine times out of ten, Izuku would’ve been the one to initiate the sex. 

“Izuku… I’m dying…” 

Izuku simply chuckled and continued using (Name) as he pleased, enjoying the wet, tight heat that tightened around his cock whenever he brushed against his prostate. 

“Izuku! Izuku, I’m…” (Name)’s mouth opened in a silent scream as he cummed once more, the watery substance staining Izuku’s shirt. 

Izuku’s thrust had started to get sloppy. Grunts and moans left his lips which told (Name) that he was close. (Name) preened with happiness at this finally being over but soon cried out at the continued hits on his prostate from a grinning Izuku. 

Of course, the final thrusts were always the worst. It was as if Izuku was using his last remaining strength to hit (Name)’s prostate in a repeated fashion before going in as deep as possible before cumming. 

And he did, he cummed deep inside (Name), grunting at his lover’s hole tightening around him. The two said nothing as they tried to catch their breaths, leaning over to kiss one another on the lips. 

It was a sloppy kiss as (Name) felt as if he had no energy left. They muttered a quick ‘love you’ before cuddling for a second. Izuku’s hands trailed up and down (Name)’s back before a smile formed on his lips. 

“Wear this again, (Name).”    

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Wow! I’m actually really proud of this one. I tried something different with my writing style!

Let me know if you guys prefer this!

Feedback appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

[persephone11110]

To Be Loved | B.B + J.S

T/W: 2+1 fic, past abusive relationship, hurt|comfort, cheater bradley, self esteem issues, dub con— sexual assault the reader never in the right headspace, coercion— bradley emotionally manipulates the reader into having sex bradley pulls the reader hair, he also chokes the reader despite her knowing she doesn’t like it , no aftercare, kissing but its fluffy, pre-top gun maverick, allusions to jake childhood

Summary: Two times Bradley makes you cry and one time he doesn’t.

important note: this fic is heavily about abuse, which can be very triggering I think I put a trigger warning for everything but If I haven’t please tell me. - PLEASE BE CAREFUL -

A/n: finally back with a fic i really wanted to a do a b.b x reader fic by im still on a Jake kick, so why not kill two birds with one stone?, also i wrote it pre- tpgm bcus i couldn’t figure out how to write jake being the boyfriend to his teammate ex girlfriend.

Word Count: 2.2k

—

one.

Its started a few days after celebrating another successful mission pulled of by the dagger squad.

You watched the brunette woman hanging off your boyfriend arm the entire night. Bradley spent his entire time in her face, laughing at her jokes—smiling at her when she suggests taking her home. “Remind me next time Rachel”. His words left a sour taste in your mouth after hearing them. Bradley says it with no hesitation— it rolls of his tongue so confidently that you believe he truly will do it next time. Little did you know that Bradley would stay true to his word.

You should’ve know better.

Past relationships taught you, you’d never be the woman men stayed for. Your the woman they leave for a prettier woman, a smarter woman— the woman who deserves to hang off their arm. Your the woman men need for a quick fuck—not an actual relationship. You naively thought Bradley loved you—that he enjoyed being with you.

Nothing would fix your relationship with Bradley, no amount of fucking— apologies could fix what you broke between you and him. If only you tried harder to keep him happy, to keep him. Why did you let her into you and his bubble— why didn’t you tell her off?

Probably because it been weeks since Bradley looked at you with a smile. Anytime you met his gaze he seemed so irritated with your presence. His jaw clenches whenever you go on for to long about your workday. There were more signs, weeks ago you stood in the mirror putting on his favorite lingerie set. Out of the corner of your eye, Bradley had been wrinkling his nose in digust.

You just wanted Bradley to be happy, hated being the reason of why he’s been so upset lately. You do anything to make Bradley happy again even if it meant him fucking another woman.

You get jealous when you find a newly bought engraved necklace in Bradleys nightstand. You’d been looking for extra batteries for the remote, you get startled by the perfectly wrapped necklace in the drawer. Running your fingers over the initials, small tears fall from your eyes. B+R— To be loved.

He bought her the necklace you asked for three christmases ago. You wanted to walk around with piece of him every where you went.

Sitting on the bed with the necklace dangling in your hands. Its a beautiful piece of jewelry for a beautiful woman— no wonder why he bought for Rachel and not you.

You slip the necklace back into its case, sliding it back into Bradley drawer.

“Darlin just your smile alone makes me want retire early”. He smiles into your hairline, “fuck”. he muttered, how Bradley supposed wake up in the morning and leave this gorgeous woman behind.

Bradley swore to you nothing whatever make him leave you, your body changing, pressure from his job—a woman.

—

two.

You don’t remember much of what happened. One minute Bradley has you forgetting your own name— making you screaming till your throat dry. The next minute your laying there in pool of your own tears, shivering with fear.

He pressed his hand down too hard on your throat. Bradley knows how much you hate any pressure being on it—“Me and Rachel do this all the time baby”.

“Just lay there and stay quiet baby”, Bradley shushes you and you can’t but stare in awe in at the affection hes giving you. For once your making him happy, for once its you on his mind instead of Rachel.

“B-Bradley?” your trying to lay still like he told you to but you can’t help the anxious feeling cursing through your veins when his grip on your throat gets tighter.

Can’t take a little pain Y/n?

“Baby stop whining, I know it been awhile but jesus”. He sighs, and you feel so upset at how pathetic you sound, he just wants to be happy and your not letting him. “Jesus Y/n stop moving”. he rolls his eyes at the sound of you whimpering.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, you weren’t good like used to be. You stifle the sob thats crawling up your throat threatening to escape.

Just stay calm.

Just stay quiet.

But you can’t, your vibrating with so much fear that it makes Bradley more angrier than before. “If your not gonna fucking stay still”, he hisses at you spit flying all over your face, “I’ll glady take myself over to Rachels”.

Your breathing picks up at the mention of her name, you don’t want Bradley leave again— you just got him back again.

You can’t tell if he’s touching you anymore.“Fuck Y/n”

The bed dips as Bradley crawls off of you, his footsteps are heavy with anger. You hear him moving around in the bathroom, the water turning on.

Bradley leaning over you staring at you with a confused look. You think he’s trying to figure out how to pick you up and take you to the bathroom with him.

But he isn’t.

He toss a rag at you, “I don’t want stains on the bed”, Bradley tone is harsh, he’s already walking back to the bathroom, he doesn’t stay to see if you give him a response. He doesn’t wait and see if your okay.

The sob you’d been holding back finally escapes, but it hurts when it does. You can still feel Bradley finger nails digging into your throat-it even hurts to swallow air.

Your skin hurts after you clean yourself with the dry washcloth Bradley gave you. You don’t have enough energy to stand and walk to the nearest sink and run the washcloth under water.

Your eyes must’ve been closed for a while

The bathroom door opens, Bradley standing in the doorway with his toothbrush in his mouth— shaking a towel through his wet curly hair. You meet his eyes and he seems so disappointed in you— you can’t do anything right Y/n.

He moves around the room, grabbing clothes from the drawer to make an outfit. You decide it best to lay there in silence— you can tell Bradley not in the mood to talk , especially not now.

When Bradley does decide to speak to you, he leaning aganist the doorway with his arms crossed over one another. You assume that he draws his eyebrows together at how disheveled you looked.

Your skin is paled and clammy- when’s the last time you’ve had water, food?

Your hair matted from Bradley pulling and tugging at it the entire time. Your scalp sore even when your trying to flip on the less sore side of your head.

“I’m going out Y/n”, his tone flat. Going out doesn’t mean spending time with Phoenix anymore, he’s missed months of Hard Deck nights. It means going to her house, laying in bed with her,fucking her.

He leans off the doorway walking away leaving you in silence. It sounds like Bradley almost stopped at the sounds of your sobs, like he almost cared that you were in pain. His footsteps become out of ear shot—your sobs get louder.

There’s no point of holding them back anymore.

—

three.

Jake Seresin can do alot of things without care, being asshole to his teammates— leaving them behind, picking up random women from the hard deck and having a one night stands.

What he can’t do is watch the love of his life struggle to believe that she’s capable of being loved.

“Just the thought of sex makes me uncomfortable”. Your head laying across Jake stomach, he running his fingers through your hair. “I might not be comfortable for awhile Jake, and if you don’t want that I suggest you—”. Jakes cuts you off, he presses a kiss into your skull, you began to fumble for words.

“Sweetheart”. Jake’s pushing himself from the laying position he was in, his head aganist the headboard. You can’t help but notice the flick the anger that passes through Jakes face , a lump fear settles in your throat-you can’t fault him for being angry at you.

“Did you really think I leave you just like that?”. You can’t tell if Jake really wants you to answer the question because he cares, or because he’s seconds away from hitting you. You figure its because he cares, since his jaw isn’t clenched, he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he hasn’t raised his voice yet.

“I’m sorry Jake”, tears glistening in your eyes—“I know you never would I-I don’t know, can you forgive me”. A couple of tears slide down your face, Jake raises his hand towards your face wanting to wipe the tears away. You almost flinch, forgetting that the man next to you isn’t him— the man next to you despite the rumors is the kindest man known to man, he would rather walk through fire than hurt you.

Its breaks Jakes heart to see Y/n look so distraught. Nothing will ever make Jake Seresin leaves his girl, not even death. He knows about his doll ex-boyfriend, he knows how much that asshole made Y/n feel so little about herself, Jake knew if he ever saw the son of bitch he throw his entire career away just to beat the shit out of him.

His Y/n comes first.

“Jake I-” you started.

“Baby”. Jake pushes himself off the headboard, pulling your head under his chin. “Gotta stop apologizing for things you didn’t do doll��� I wish I could put my hands on the man who hurt you”. Jake laces his fingers into yours-“You shouldn’t be sitting here questioning my love for you”. Your head hangs low, your ashamed of yourself for thinking so lowly of Jake.

You can’t help it, he you told all the sames things just the words were different from Jakes. Its only a matter of time until Jake comes home smelling different, till he pushes you away– he can’t stand the sight of you.

Somehow you didn’t realized Jake had changed his positions again, his fingers under your chin forcing you to look at him. You and him hold eachother gazes neither one of you knew what to say to the other, Jake unsure of what to say afraid he’ll accidentally hurt your feelings, he seen what a abusive man can do a woman. Your afraid that whatever words that leave your mouth will push Jake into the arms of woman better than you.

“Thank you Jake”. you whisper, tugging at the dangling thread hanging from the hem of your sleeve. You hate being so insecure, its going to drive Jake away. At one point he’s going to grow tired of reassuring you every two seconds, grow tired of the no sex. He going to get tired of you.

Jake running his hand through your hair again. “Y/n you don’t thank me for loving you. If anything I should be thanking you for letting me in”. He sighs-your looking straight in his eye, and his expression becomes unreadable.“I love you - Y/n L/n, there’s nothing I mean nothing that will ever stop me loving you”.

You blush at how sincere Jake sounds, “I—”. your brain practically shuts down once you realize what Jake saying.

Jake forces himself to not show how frustrated he is, he isn’t trying to make his girl feel uncomfortable. It just angers him to know she has trouble understanding what he saying. Jake wonders what else Y/n isn’t telling him about her ex-boyfriend. What else did he do?

“Sweetheart don’t say it till you comfortable, alright Y/n?. Sorry got carried away reassuring you that I’ll never leave despite that negative thoughts in your head”. It was Jake turn to blush, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

God what did you do to earn a man like that?

Choking back a sob, Jake Seresin is the opposite of the rumors attached to him. You attack him like a koala bear, wrapping your arms around his back — legs around his lower back. He doesn’t lash out at you for the need of physical touch.

He’s whispering god knows what, at some point your loud sobs become quieter and your just sniffling. “Lemme grab the glass water Y/n, M’not leaving ya sweetheart”. Jake southern accent thick with emotion, he leans over to the nightstand grabbing the tiny glass of water. Pressing it up to your lips, “Drink it sweetheart you need it”.

Handing Jake back the empty you see how badly your tears soaked his sweatshirt. You feel bad and of course he notices your upset expression. “Sweetheart its fine, If you must know the navy hands out like candy- its a gift for being the best pilot”. He smirking by the end of that sentence and so are you.

Jake takes his thumb and softly wipes away the single tear falling down your face.“I love you so much Jake Seresin and I’m not saying it just because”. Your running your hands through his short blonde hair.-“You make me feel so loved and no one done that in awhile. Your great fucking man Jake”. You two smile at eachother- “Kiss me Y/n”, he whispers-your lips crashing into his.

Your kissing him all over the neck, his cologne smells like heaven— it feels so nice to be content with life, to be loved.

[bcyhoods]

hi miss cece babe! love the new blog, very cutie! i do come to you with a request if you like <3 shy!reader getting steve harrington flowers on a bad day of his <3 been obsessed with shy!reader, just too soft <3

u are so cute and u sent this a while ago SORRAY. this is just a short little thing to help get out of a writing rut!

talks about migraines (brief allusion to vomiting but nothing more than a sentence)

Steve could be extremely prideful at times.

He’d jump into action headfirst even if it meant a swift blow to his temple or a demobat bite to the abdomen. More often than not, he’d reap the consequences days later in the form of a dull headache or a singing pain in his bones, in addition to the scars and bruises painted on his freckled skin. Whenever you’d ask about it though, he’d give you a charming smile with a quick, “I’m fine. You should see the other guy.”

It was usually enough to quell anybody’s concerns, safe for your own ever-worrying mind, but even then, it would soothe you just enough. He never did it out of spite or malice, he just didn’t want to worry you. Plus, he wasn’t weak. He could handle it.

Today just wasn’t his best effort, he supposes.

The pair of you were supposed to go out today, but this morning he woke up with a particularly nasty migraine that wasn’t letting up any time soon. And no witty remark was able to save him from your doting presence (which he was quite grateful for).

You’re sat beside him on his bed, pushing away the strands of hair that stick to his forehead.

“‘M sorry,” he says meekly. His complexion is pale, face screwed up in discomfort, and a sheen layer of sweat coats his skin. Any food that he was able to get down would just fight it��s way back up.

The apology makes you frown. Your hand hovers over his stomach, a featherlight touch out of fear that it’d make matters worse. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you reply softly.

He reaches for your hand with his own, gently bringing it down to fully rest on the swell of his stomach and sighs in relief. The gesture gives you goosebumps. You remain this way for awhile, your other hand combing through his hair, until he’s able to drift off.

The first time he wakes up, you’re laying a warm, damp rag on his forehead and placing a delicate kiss to his cheek. You’re telling him something, but he’s not awake enough to understand. Though his headache seems to have dulled.

When he awakes again, the throbbing sensation in his head is thankfully nothing but a memory. Faint hums and the whistling of a kettle motivate him to get out of bed when he sees new items sitting on his bedside table.

You’d gone to the store to get some aspirin, which now sits on the wood beside a cup of water. But it’s not that he’s interested in, not really. Beside the medicine, with a blue ribbon around its neck, sat a vase filled with daisies. A flimsy piece of paper rested against the glass that read For Stevie :) in your handwriting.

With a gooey smile on his face, he pads into the kitchen to find you. Your back faces him as you pour liquid from the kettle into a small mug. He calls out your name, and the second you turn around, he feels his insides turn to mush at the way your face brightens.

“Oh, you’re awake!” You recoil at the momentary loudness in your voice. “Are you feeling okay?”

Steve nods and pulls you into his arms. His thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt to caress the skin of your waist. “Better, now. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hum in response as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“And thank you for the flowers.”

Suddenly, you feel heat rush to every swell and curve of your face. You didn’t expect him to explicitly mention a few flowers. And now you’re embarrassed.

“They’re feverfew. They’re supposed to help with migraines,” you reply into the cloth of his t-shirt in an effort to hide your nervous, lovesick grin. But the silence that follows makes you queasy.

That is, until he moves to cradle your face in his hands to deliver a firm kiss to your lips. The kind that makes you feel lightheaded, the kind that makes you grasp tightly onto his biceps to prevent you from floating away. You sigh once his soft lips move away from yours and you feel his breath fan your skin as he breathes out a laugh.

“Oh no, you’re running hot. Do you have a fever?” He teases.

[navnae]

He was going to do it.

He was finally going to do it after months of talking to Robin and hyping himself up in the mirror everyday but chickening out every time he saw the man come into the room. All of that changed today.

Steve had planned this entire day out and it involved asking Eddie out which was obviously a huge step already then he wanted to add to the already extreme gesture by bringing along two tickets to a concert of Eddie’s favorite band, even if everything went wrong at least both of them could see a cool performance together no matter if they were together or not. As much as Steve didn’t want that to be the possible reality he wasn’t totally against it either because that meant him and Eddie could still be friends. Steve was wasting time by just standing in his living room with the tickets in his hand contemplating if he was sure that he wanted to do this. He pushed all of those negative thoughts away then decided to go ahead and grab his car keys before heading out the front door. On the way to Eddie’s trailer Steve’s heart started to be rapidly inside his chest the more he thought about asking him out and what his response would be. For some reason he didn’t feel the same way he did a few months ago when he first talked to Robin about his feelings towards Eddie, that happy, cheerful, bubbly feeling that went through him awhile back when it came to officially asking the other man out wasn’t there anymore. Instead those feelings were replaced by, fear, disgust, and a really bad pain in Steve’s stomach that he couldn’t describe. The closer he got to Eddie’s trailer every thought in his head was telling him that he should go home and save himself from this terrible idea but he didn’t know why he started to feel this way. The worst thing that could happen would be Eddie saying ‘no’ and Steve was fine with that, he could easily recover from that.

So, why did it feel like his world was slowly falling apart before he’s even seen Eddie yet?

Eventually he arrived at Eddie’s trailer and with a few deep breaths he managed to calm himself down. He didn’t want to waste a single second of the day, Steve put the car in park before taking out the tickets that he had in his pocket and stepping out the car. Slowly he made his way towards the steps, every foot stepping lightly on each one as a quick thought flashed in his head. Within a few seconds he brought his hand up to the door balled into a fist and knocked on it. Steve let out another breath to push down those fucking nerves that mad it impossible to even think about what he was going to tell Eddie exactly. Everything sounded lame in his head no matter how he tried to word it and at some point he just wanted to disappear completely. Before Steve could even think any further about anything the front door opened, with a smile on his face he expected to see Eddie smiling right back at him. Steve’s smile faded once he realized that Eddie wasn’t the person who opened the door, not even Wayne. It was a guy that was slightly taller than Steve, he wore a sleeveless shirt that revealed his array of tattoos, and he had his dirty blonde hair falling messily along the sides of his face. What really caught Steve’s eye was that the guy was wearing Eddie’s guitar pick necklace around his neck. Steve just stood there with his mouth slightly open as the guy started to look at him with confusion. He felt like his entire body was being torn into shreds as the pieces started to connect for him, this wasn’t a friend of Eddie’s.

“Can I help you?” His voice was low and it brought Steve out of his thoughts once again. Steve shook his head as he tried to find something to say but he just kept standing there like an idiot. It felt like hours before Eddie finally popped up in the doorframe beside the guy with a somewhat guilty expression on his face then it went into a small smile.

“Harrington? What are you doing here?” Eddie asked placing an elbow in the frame. Steve could tell that he just woke because of his hair and his clothes, he also noticed the other guys hand sliding to Eddie’s waste to pull him close. Steve could feel that he was being sized up and he realized that he wanted nothing more than to leave. He didn’t mean to let out a bitter laugh as he looked down at the tickets in his hand but he did anyways before focusing on Eddie.

“Just checking up on you, see how you were holding up. Guess… uh, I don’t really need to do that anymore.” Steve said coldly as he looked in between the both of them. Eddie frowned slightly but he still managed to keep up that fake smile throughout this entire situation. Silence fell over them and if the word awkward were people, they would be the perfect example of it. Steve mentally thanked god that the guy told Eddie he was going back to sleep and he left, now it was only Steve and Eddie standing at the door. Both of them knew that something needed to be said and it would probably make things ten times better except Steve didn’t want to talk, in fact he didn’t even want to look at Eddie at the moment. Which was so stupid because why did he expect him to wait for him to make a decision to finally ask him out when Eddie could easily find someone who wasn’t afraid to make a move, Steve had missed the mark completely and he had to deal with the aftermath of it. After a few seconds Eddie was the one to spark up the conversation again.

“You know it’s kind of early, want to join us for breakfast?” Eddie asked happily. He did this cute little thing with his eyebrows where he wiggled them and usually that would make Steve laugh before coming inside to join him and Wayne for a nice breakfast. This time he just looked at Eddie blankly, the thought of eating with the guy who probably knows Eddie like the back of his hand and was welcomed into the family with ease really bothered him in ways that he couldn’t explain. Steve shook his head as he felt his mouth go dry, shoving the tickets in his pocket.

“I’m good. I was just passing by, take care.” Steve smiled softly before he fully turned away from Eddie feeling his face get hot and he could feel the lump in his throat getting worse when he finally got into his car. He teared up slightly while driving down the highway, Steve felt foolish for taking Eddie for granted and not making an effort to be honest with him sooner. There’s been plenty of moments where Steve has felt shitty but this one felt a little worse. He knew he’d have to get over it and he couldn’t avoid Eddie, not because it wasn’t possible but he didn’t want to. Steve couldn’t deny that he was an extremely good guy and he truly added to the group. All that played into why he liked Eddie so much. Guess Steve wasn’t the only one who realized how amazing he was, with that thought lingering in his head Steve continued to drive home still feeling weighed down by everything.

[alipeeps]

Episode 30

I think I'll have to skip doing gifs for these last few commentaries, or it'll take me days to get through them all... 😭

Oh dang, Zhou Yichen's words are weighing on Li Lun.

Zhu Yan gave Li Lun the Truth Eye?!! 😭

What I don't get about this show is that they act like these two have been enemies for centuries.... but we know from the timeline it's been 8 years! They fell out and Li Lun was sealed 8 years ago just before the blood moon where Zhu Yan lost control.

"How long has it been since we played Go so peacefully?"

"I don't remember anymore"

IT'S BEEN EIGHT FUCKING YEARS!! 😂

It never had to be this way Li Lun, you're the one who made this a zero sum game.

How are his eyes so big?

Yeah but of those two friends, Li Lun, only one is a) a mass murderer, and b) actively choosing to possess and kill the other. When it comes down to a choice of who gets to inhabit one body - the original owner of the body, who is a literal child, has far greater rights to it than the one who stole the body and has killed lots of people.

The thing is... this is lovely and dramatic and all... but it's so unnecessary. All y'all idiots had to do was what I suggested at the end of episode 29 - tie that fucker up until Zhuo Yichen gets back with the sword and then sever his primordial spirit and free Xiao Bai. Why let Li Lun loose to start a fight that risks losing the opportunity to save Bai Jiu?

Also, can we please bear in mind that only recently Zhao Yuanzhou had his inner core damaged and a lot of his demon power consumed... and was warned it would not be a quick recovery.

Ah fuck... and Li Lun knows it. Wait up tho.. he's lost ALL his demon power? And is no different from a human? Is that true? And will he get it back?

Oh nice! Your opponent... is me!

But AGAIN... this is so fucking unnecessary! I mean yeah, badass fight scene and all... but you could have fucking resolved all this safely while Li Lun was unconscious.

Give it up for baby bro!!

Wait did baby bro like.. DIE, die? He's a puppet infused with Pei Siheng's spirit... I didn't think he could die?

Ahhh fuuuck and Wen Xiao is using the baize power (though without the token, it seems?) which could exacerbate her poisoning...

Zhuo Yichen would you please just fucking do whatever it is you need to do to remove Li Lun's primordial spirit, while he is fucking restrained!! Please! You're killing me here!

Great. So Wen Xiao injured herself for nothing because you didn't take advantage of the opportunity offered.

YING LEI!! NOOOOOOOO!!!

Well, this is going fucking great. 4 out of 5 of the team are now incapacitated in some way.

Don't you fucking do it. Don't do it. Not Ying Lei. Please...

Don't die don't die don't die don't die

JFC Bai Jiu will never recover if his body is used to kill Ying Lei...

Oh fuck he's crying... is... is Bai Jiu fighting back?!

DOITDOITDOITDOITDOITPLEASEFUCKINGSAVEHIM

Here you go, stick him in this piece of wood. 😂

Oh fuck not just any piece of wood... the root of Li Lun's pagoda tree... given to Zhu Yan centuries ago... 😭

So that was what Zhao Yuanzhou meant by a draw... a chance for Li Lun still to live. You didn't even give him chance to explain what he was offering Li Lun...

OH FUCK there was more to that "Promise me" that Zhou Yichen agreed to!!

Ying Lei won't let go of him. My heart!!

Oh don't you fucking have Ying Lei die on me now??!!

I don't like this close up of his face with a blurry lens. Don't fucking do this to me...

It was. You're best boy, Ying Lei. You always have been.

I hate this. Please don't let him die.

How can a half-god, half-demon mountain god die from such wounds?

How dare you fucking finally give him the validation he has always been seeking - and always deserved - only as he's dying?

This is killing me. He didn't need to die. And they are dragging it out soooo long. 😭😭😭😭😭

You bastards. You fucking bastards. I am NOT ok.

Xiao Jiu. Come back to us baby boy.

He's going to be devastated about YIng Lei. 😭😭

Oh dang, he wakes up and the first person he sees is his mum!!

I am actually genuinely fucking crying.

So has he lost his demonic power permanently?

So... there's 4.5 eps left to go. Wen Zongyu is dead. Li Lun is defeated. Bai Jiu is rescued.

What's going to be the plot for the next 4 episodes? It can't all be about Wen Xiao's poisoning...

Is shit about to go down with Chongwu camp/the results of Wen Zongyu's demon hybrid experiments?

Why is this show so determined to rip my heart out and stomp on it?

Zhuo Yichen is best big bro

My precious baby mountain god... 😭😭😭

Your girlfriend still needs you, Sijing. The polycule still needs you.

What the fuck was he going to say?!!

After this? After WHAT?!!

Why the fuck is he talking like he might no longer be around to protect Bai Jiu?

This has to have been a hell of a trip for Bai Jiu... he wakes up from being possessed by Li Lun to find:

Mum's back Ying Lei's dead Zhuo daren's a demon

THAT'S A VERY GOOD FUCKING QUESTION, BAI JIU!!!

Why the fuck does it feel like he is saying goodbye?! Is he... is he planning to absorb the poison from Wen Xiao?!!

(Shit. I guess there's no longer an option for Zhao Yuanzhou to do that cos his demon power is gone...)

Fuck me, that is exactly what he's planning, isn't it?

Oh and is Zhao Yuanzhou planning the same? (Sorry, demon daddy, Xiao Zhuo Daren already knows that's the only option).

Are they going to be fighting over who gets to sacrifice themselves to save her?

You're damn right she wouldn't let you.

FUUUUUUCK. This episode destroyed me. I am an emotional wreck.

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Drabble Series

"We're still on break, got it?"

“Y/n?” a female voice is muffled by the sound of the music outside. Fixing my curls, I tighten the strap of my two-piece before turning to Yoona, the host of the nightclub I’m currently working at. Very odd pairing, I know, I’m still not sure how I got the job, but it’s quick money, right? It’s only been a few weeks since I started, but I still cringe over the idea of satisfying the male gaze, so, I try to numb that part of my consciousness at work. As far as I’m concerned, this is temporary, just until I can pay off my mom’s hospital bills. She was diagnosed with Diabetes a month ago and had to be hospitalized for treatment, which unfortunately, as with everything in this capitalistic world was not free. 

Cut scene to the present time, I’ve learned to somewhat navigate this nightlife business, learning a few tips and tricks from the other girls, who are way older than me but are also struggling financially. I guess we are all just trauma-bonded in the end. To be quite frank, money wasn’t the only thing that fueled this decision of mine. Today also marks a month since Jungkook and I decided to take a break from our relationship. Nothing really happened aside from the fact that I was stood up and caught him with another girl, the usual plot, right? Anyway, I think this job came to me as a source of distraction, dissociating myself from reality until the thoughts in my head outscream the DJ at the front. Why didn’t we just break up, altogether? Fair question. Well, based on Jungkook’s words, he was meant to “change” over this period of separation and supposedly “can’t bear to lose me”, or something like that.  We’ll see, he’ll either be my everything or yet another lesson. 

“Someone is here for you. They’ve booked out a VIP room?” Yoona sounds and looks unsure, resting her head on the door frame before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Who? Is it Mark? I told the security not to let him in anymore,” I say almost irritated by the mere thought of that man. Ugh, he was the epitome of a manchild, always whining and demanding everything to go his way. I’m sorry, but my dignity will not be negotiated over money. I would rather die poor than have someone walk all over me because they can. 

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. It’s so busy out there, you know with Valentine's Day and all,” she sighs, rubbing her temples. Oh, right. It’s also my first Valentine's without Jungkook in about two years. Just more fuel to the fire, I guess. 

“That’s okay Yoona, thanks for letting me know,” I reassure her with a soft smile, taking a deep breath before heading out. She wasn’t lying, the club is full to the brim. Every corner is occupied by a man with a stack of dollar bills in his hands, surrounded by bottles of champagne and naked bodies. 

Knock Knock Knock 

“Hello … what? What are you doing here, Jeon?” I almost yelp, jumping from the sight of his rested form on the velvet couch. Those naked bodies that I mentioned before, well, turns out I wasn’t an exception, covered in nothing but a lacey two-piece bedazzled with fake rhinestones. So, you could imagine the panic in my eyes, as I tried to pathetically hide behind a nearby curtain. Technically, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen already, but now it’s different. 

“I don’t know, what do people usually come here to do?” Jungkook grins, stretching his body before resting his head on his tattooed hand. 

“How did you find me?” I snap, still behind the curtain, too ashamed to come out. 

“Does it really matter if I’m already here?” there is a distinct hint of lure in his tone as his eyes focus on my furrowed expression. 

“Stop playing. I told you we needed a break,” I snap again, only this time with my body fully exposed to his visual field. Crossing my arms over my chest, I walk towards him, determined to prove that I in fact am not flustered by his presence. 

“I am on a break … and it’s pretty relaxing so far if I say so myself,” Jungkook grins, eyeing me up and down before leaning his arms on his knees, moving in closer. 

“Well, I’m not dancing for you if that’s what you want,” I scoff, rolling my eyes at his teasing sense of humour. 

“That’s okay, I don’t want you to dance,” he reassures with a soft smile, except nothing about him or this situation is soft. Suffocating at best. 

“Then what exactly do you want?” 

“Sit on my lap, y/n, and we’ll see what happens next,” he says hushedly, hooded gaze looking up at my scattering eyes as his hands trace up my thighs. 

“Fuck off Jungkook,” I try to walk away until his grasp on my arm tightens, pulling me back onto his lap. Now, inches away from each other, there is virtually no air to breathe. 

“Careful love, you know I only ask nicely once,” he whispers into my ear, softly nibbling on the skin before looking back at my flushed face.  

“Let me go, Koo,” I insist with my gaze still lowered as I try to push myself out of his grip. 

“Mhmm … Koo. I missed your voice. Say it again, y/n,” Jungkook pleads softly, leaning his head closer to meet my eyes. “Please?” he adds, caressing my red cheek with the back of his hand. Feeling my chest heave up, it’s hard to breathe. Unable to break out of his possession, there isn’t much I can do but give in to his desires. 

“Koo?” I say softly, innocent eyes looking up at his darkened orbs as his fingertips traced my lips.  

“Good girl, aren’t you?” he grins with a sly wink, before nuzzling his face into my neck, hugging my form tighter than before. Feeling his hot breath on my skin, I can’t help but succumb to the adrenaline and panic running through my veins. 

“I have to go,” I stutter abruptly, moving his face up to mine. Searching his eyes, there is an evident sense of emptiness behind them. Sadness even. 

“Please stay, y/n. You must be tired, let me take care of you,” he pleads into my palms, placing a soft kiss on the tip of my index finger which was covered by a bandaid. And, although I knew I would regret it later, I stayed. 

“Okay,” I whisper, straddling his thighs as my legs go numb at this point. Nibbling on my lips, I watched as he pulled out a black ribbon out of his jean jacket. 

“May I?” he asks innocently. 

“Oh, do I have a choice?” I chuckle at the way that innocent smile of his quickly turned into a sly grin. Tucking a few curls behind my ear, Jungkook leans closer before tying the ribbon over my eyes, gentle with his touch. Giving up yet another sense to his possession, I feel the panic rush in again. 

“Wait!” I snap abruptly, gripping his arms. “Whatever you do … this doesn’t mean anything. We’re still on a break, got it?” I try to convince both of us, before finally giving in. 

“Of course, whatever you say y/n,” Jungkook whispers into a needy kiss, nibbling on my bottom lip as his hands unclasp the bedazzled bra. Feeling his kisses go down to my neck, purple hues of desire begin to mark my skin. One thing is for sure, our lust for each other has been desperately fueling the whole of that break. And, as I hesitate to touch him, Jungkook senses my tension before placing my hands on his exposed chest, gliding them up and down his defined abs. 

“It’s still all yours, baby,” he whispers into my ear, laying me down on the velvet couch. Alarmed by the cracking sound in the background, my chest heaves up in suspense before a cold sensation hits my consciousness. Gliding an ice cube down my stomach, Jungkook’s hooded eyes watch in satisfaction as my back arches from the feeling. Licking the trail of melting water, he sucks on the soft skin, leaving a few love bites behind that turn me into a whimpering mess. 

“Koo,” I whine, reaching out to feel his arms. That is until a yelp escapes my parted lips as he glides the melting ice cube under my panties, which are already wet. With my chest heaving up, there was no time to even protest as his grip on my thighs tightened, moving me closer to him. 

“I’ll warm you up, baby,” Jungkook reassures with a raspy tone, helping me take off the lacey fabric before putting it in his pocket. Leaving a trail of kisses up my thighs, he stopped by my throbbing core which was now hot and cold at the same time. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Don't Get Attached Masterlist

[missmaywemeetagain]

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

A/N: Ohhh, so y'all forced this out of me, what with all the talk about the "Blue Scarf" and expanding the "Scarf Universe" thrown at me this week! 😂 (I hear you, I hear you!) Be careful what you wish for, lil' darlin's!! Honestly, though, I've known since I ended Pink Scarf that this was something that was going to happen in this particular way to our dear Reader and E, I just never knew if it was going to see the light of day. And with this week's prompt, all the inspiration and stars seemed to align at once on Sunday, so this came out rather quick and may be rough, and it's possible I might go back and tweak it later, but I'm happy with it for now. I hope this satiates you for the moment. I hope it gives you all the feels. And, yes, perhaps I may expand this little Blue Scarf into a series and include a spicy story or two later, if you all are good lil' babies for me. 😏 💙🧣💙 Let me know in the comments and reblogs...😉

Thanks always to my sister wives @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny for allowing me to skirt by late with this week's prompt. 😇

Prompt: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

Rating: PG (ish?) || Word Count: 2.7k

TW: Fluff, angst (always), infidelity (sort of??), no smut (so sorry loves)

Something Blue, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

August 1971

It’s fitting, you think, that today of all days, you’re wearing his blue silk scarf in your hair. Elvis hasn’t worn it much since that fateful summer a couple of years ago—and only for a few more shows and a couple nights out—so you had absconded with it and made it your own, as you’d managed to do with many of his things. You loved how it smelled of him, the silk doused in his musk and cologne, and how it reminded you of the not-wearing-a-shirt-under-a-jacket/jumpsuit phase he gone through that summer and fall of ‘69. Lord, you’d loved that phase. It had been so easy to lay him bare before you.

Heat floods your cheeks at the thought of what this particular scarf has seen between the two of you, and then at the fact that this might be the worst possible time for a thought like that to pop into your head. You know it’s the shock of the bomb that just dropped on your lives that has your brain short circuiting a little. Because neither of you ever expected this.

You nervously twist the platinum and diamonds on your ring finger, the ones which pledged his love for you in front of your family, friends, and the world. Thoughts fill your mind of your lovely, small wedding, how this scarf had been there for that important moment, too, tied around your waist, cinching your white dress—being both your “something borrowed” and your “something blue.” Elvis loved that you’d included it, this piece of him, as part of your gown.

He also loved untying it at the end of the night and letting it flutter to your feet with the rest of your dress.

It’s counterpart, the pink scarf, had been tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket, a little secret for you both. You’d enjoyed it, as well, later that night.

“Y/n, did y-you hear me? I-I-I-It’s me,” Elvis says, snapping you out of your memories, his hand lingering on the phone he’d just placed back on its cradle. “How are w-w-we going to solve this problem?”

The wavering fear in his voice is palpable and in any other circumstance it might scare you, but a strange sense of calm falls over you. Somehow the domino effect of both of your actions two years ago have led you to this very moment. Tragic as it is, it seems meant to be.

Just like you and Elvis.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you breathe deeply. Yes, there is a part of you that is still jealous and angry about what brought you here. But you knew, even back then, that it was possible he’d been with others in your month-long absence, that his fear of losing you plus old habits could have driven him into the arms of another. It wasn’t a new revelation, just one neither of you had wanted to talk about after all was said and done. And it hadn’t been an issue since, so you figured bringing it up would be more trouble than it was worth.

Pushing that hurt aside, a much bigger feeling swells within you—one you’ve been hesitant to name for fear that it would not come to fruition. But now everything has changed.

“It’s not a problem,” you state, your voice surprisingly steady.

“W-w-what?” Elvis questions, those oceanic eyes of his widening in disbelief.

“It’s a gift, Elvis. From the most unlikely and sad circumstances, yes, but a gift all the same. Isn’t it?” You’re not quite sure if you are trying to convince him or if you are just stating the obvious, but those feelings continue to rise in you and have for days. And they overshadow the fading fissure of anger and the burgeoning fear that you refuse to let consume you.

Hope. Joy.

“A gift?” he repeats, letting the words roll on his tongue, letting them sink in. He blinks slowly, gaze shifting off into the distance for a moment. Then, he looks down at the paperwork on the table. At the picture. “Oh. Oh.”

A shuddering breath shakes his shoulders, his ring clad fingers clawing at his knees. It’s when the tears pool in his eyes, finally betraying his sensitive vulnerability after so many days of keeping it in, that you slide out of your chair and rush to his side.

He immediately buries his head into your belly, his arms circling around your waist, clinging to you. A sob wrenches out of him, one so deep that it brings tears to your eyes.

“I-I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I didn’t think...I-I-I din’t know,” he hiccups. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing to you or her or him. Maybe his apology is for all of you.

“Shhh, hush, it’s okay,” you coo, tears trickling absently down your cheeks. You run your fingers through his soft hair before pulling back, cupping his cheeks so he is forced to look at you.

He is so wide-eyed and young-looking staring up at you, his eyes now matching the scarf in your hair with their electric blue, a dramatic contrast against the redness caused by his tears.

“It’s not a problem, honey, it’s a gift. He is a gift,” you say, wiping the tears that linger on his prominent cheekbones. “We can do this. I want to do this. If you do.”

Elvis blinks up at you, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. If he’s a part of you, he’s a part of me, too. And—and,” you choke up, swallowing your past sorrows, “you know it’s something I’ve always wanted. Something I never thought we could have. This is…a chance to make something wonderful out of something tragic.”

You’re aware the reality is likely going to be much more complicated than either of you can fathom in this moment. There is a part of you that is utterly terrified it won’t live up to the miracle you want it to be and that you won’t be worthy of the task. But that is not what Elvis needs to hear, not right now. Your insecurities can wait.

Elvis looks down at the picture resting on the table of the young woman and her baby. Your gaze follows. The first time you saw it, you knew, based solely on the fact that the woman looked so much like a younger version of you, that something had happened between them in those weeks you’d escaped from Vegas to California, when you left him, trying to figure out if you could forgive him. When you were trying to recover from your life turning upside down.

Her likeness plus the look of horrified guilt on his face upon seeing the picture told you all you needed to know about that. His begging and pleading for forgiveness at your feet solidified it.

But it had been the way Vernon had blanched white as a sheet when seeing the baby that you understood the true consequence of Elvis’ dalliance.

It was a punch in the gut, at first. Of course, it was. But logically you knew that he’d been hurting in those weeks without you, unsure if you’d ever come back to him. It wasn’t altogether surprising that he’d sought out comfort from a girl who looked so much like you.

You wanted to be furious at the fact she had gotten pregnant by him so easily, but you knew that was a futile road to go down, especially after what happened to her.

According to the letter she’d given to her lawyer, who had sent it on to Elvis, the cancer within her spread like wildfire. It was too late to save her by the time her pain had sent her to the doctor. She—Theresa—had never planned to ask Elvis for a thing, she reiterated. Theresa had been content to raise her son by herself. But she had no family to take him in when she was gone, and she could not bear to think of her son alone and unloved.

“You don’t have to take him, Elvis, truly. But I beg you, please, please make sure he is placed with a nice family, that he is loved and taken care of. I cannot leave him all alone.”

His lawyers weren’t convinced, however, and didn’t want him to even entertain the thought. It could open you up for all sorts of future problems, Elvis.

But that didn’t stop him from finding out for himself because, as all of them knew, nobody tells Elvis Presley what he can and can’t do. He tracked her down, in Denver of all places, and took you and Vernon with him to the hospital to see Theresa. You didn’t know how you would feel seeing this girl Elvis had been with in a moment of weakness. Would you want to slap her face? Would you want to cry and scream? Would you want to tear her apart?

Instead, it had shocked you into silence, seeing someone that resembled you so closely withering away from disease, as if it were some sort of eerie harbinger. It made your skin prickle. But then compassion filled you, more so than you ever expected. The poor woman was on death’s door, but you’ll never forget the relief in her eyes when you all walked through the door. That look was something that couldn’t be faked. Nor was the toddler playing with the nurse in the corner, the little boy who Vernon looked at like he’d seen a ghost.

The boy was the spitting image of his father.

But that didn’t stop Theresa from encouraging a paternity test. She was well aware of what a mess this could be for Elvis, and she didn’t want there to be a shadow of a doubt for anyone involved. She wanted him to be sure.

“I don’t want to ruin your life,” she’d croaked, her emaciated frame limp and barely able to produce the tears she was trying to hold back. “I never want him to be a burden.”

The tiny blonde child chose that pivotal moment to break away from the nurse, waddling over and grabbing Elvis’ flared pant leg with chubby little fists, commanding Elvis’ attention downward. His chin tucked, gaze following the movement at his feet, and you watched him wrestle with what to do, what the protocol in this sort of situation was. It was intense, this first moment between them, and the boy’s all-too-familiar crooked smile and slow blinking blue eyes made your heart clench.

You watched Elvis come to an unspoken decision, and he lifted the boy easily and almost too naturally tucked the boy into his hip. The room collectively held its breath, watching the scene unfold. You’d never seen a child snuggle up to an unfamiliar person like that before, the way he buried his head into Elvis’ shoulder as if drawn in, inexplicably trusting. Granted, Elvis had that preternatural way about him, his essence bringing people to him constantly. But this was different.

Heart fluttering into a gallop, you watched Elvis take this moment in before nodding solemnly, sucking in his lip. With the child tucked into his side, it was obvious to you that he was holding back his pressing emotions to stay in control. Nevertheless, he was unwavering when he told Theresa, “Even if he’s not mine, I’ll make sure he finds a good home. I promise you that.”

She’d closed her eyes then, and when they opened, you saw a gratefulness and relief so strong it nearly bowed you over.

Elvis had done the blood test right then at the hospital. Everyone was quiet on the plane ride home. Elvis, pensive and withdrawn, clutched at your hand so tightly it tingled from the loss of circulation. And when the call came the next day that Theresa was gone, your heart broke for her. Sheer willpower had kept her alive long enough to make sure her son would be safe. A mother’s love.

You’d wept for her. You’d wept for you and for Elvis. You’d wept for that little boy.

Nicholas. Nicholas Aaron.

You didn’t tell Elvis that the moment you saw the 16-month-old toddle towards you that you knew. That you loved him instantly, like something magical locked into place. It was too early, too soon. But you knew.

Elvis hadn’t wanted to talk about it much as you all waited for the results. He was antsy and on edge, everyone giving him a wide berth. His guilt was trying its best to distance him from you, that deep seeded, insecure vulnerability in him trying to simultaneously push you away while needing you close. It was evident in the way he clung to you in his sleep. But you did everything in your power to let him know you didn’t hate him for the indiscretion, that you still loved him unconditionally, no matter the paternity outcome.

Of course, your mind whirled in overdrive, circling the drain around your surprising emotions about Nicholas. You found yourself worrying your nails down to the quick about whether he was safe and who was caring for him since his mother died. Your heart felt like it was tearing in two whenever you thought about it. You knew you shouldn’t get too attached, but you couldn’t help it. It was primal and biological, this response.

So when the phone rang this morning and Jerry had so seriously handed it to Elvis, you knew what it was, your breath catching in your throat. This was the moment that would change everything. And you hoped it was for the better as you sat across from him, wringing your hands in your lap. Silence filled the room as Elvis listened to the voice on the other end, his face going Hollywood blank, giving you nothing to hold on to. Your heart threatened to explode right out of your chest and onto the table.

He thanked the voice on the other end and hung up the phone.

“E, what did they—” you started.

“I’m his father,” Elvis finally whispered in shock.

And now you are here, holding him to you, being his rock while in your own state of disbelief and wonder. A thousand emotions roll through you all at once: Hope. Joy. Sorrow for Theresa. Guilt for being happy in the face of Nicholas’ tragedy.

“Do you want this, to take him in, Elvis?” you ask, prompting him to look up at you once more. You pray you know the answer.

“Of course, I do. I’m his father. He’s my son,” he says, as if the unfamiliar words have finally landed and he believes them. Then his signature 1,000-megawatt crooked smile spreads across his face. “I have a son! We have a son!” he adds, proudly.  

Elvis jumps up, grabbing you by the waist, spinning you around until the room tilts on its axis. You laugh breathlessly, arms locked around his neck, wondering how in the world you’ve managed to get here after all this time, in the most unlikely of ways.

A son.

When he sets you down, he looks at you, grinning from ear to ear with an unbridled passion like you’ve never seen from him before. It’s not sexual, and it’s different from the passion he has for his music. It’s the love of a new father, you realize, something you never thought you’d get to see. It makes your heart swell uncontrollably.

“Are you absolutely positive this is what you want, lil’ mama?” His questioning eyes search yours as he cups your face, his fingers catching in the blue scarf in your hair. The pet name suddenly takes on a whole new meaning, releasing butterflies in your stomach.

Excitement has your heart racing and your breath short, but you beam, winking, “Oh, I’m one thousand percent positive, Daddy.”

Elvis kisses you deeply, as though he’s merging with you, engulfing you. It takes your breath away completely.

“We have a son,” he whispers, smiling against your mouth. “Let’s go get our son.” There’s something in the way he includes you in this, a pointed clarity that you are not an outsider because you aren’t Nicholas’ biological mother. No, he’s telling you in no uncertain terms—this is your boy as much as he is mine.

And after so many years thinking it could never be, it finally, truly hits you, without a doubt:

I’m going to be a mother.

*

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

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[good-beanswrites]

Fe Aspec Week Day 7: Free Day -- Legacy

This one took me forever to settle on something I liked -- I was toying around with some ideas about Lukas's epilogue text and the idea of legacy, as well as a bit of meta impact. A few scrapped drawings and 1k words later, I've got this 😂

As always, thank you so much for running this week!! 💜💚 I always have so much fun with the pieces, (it's been the only event week that I can regularly commit to because I always have a blast haha!) and seeing others' amazing work! It's been such a great time :D

Forsyth stepped back from his canvas. He wiped hair from his forehead, hoping he wasn’t smearing any paint there. He studied his work, then his model, then his work once more. He gave a decisive nod. 

“Well. I tried.”

Python choked back a laugh. “That’s not quite the confidence you want to hear from your portrait painter, you know.” He walked up to the canvas, but Forsyth was quick to angle it away from him. 

“Oh, hush, I wasn’t even painting you! I’ll have you know, it was rather difficult trying to paint something without having it in front of me.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Luke was sitting right there for hours!”

At his mention, Lukas perked up. He’d been lounging in front of Forsyth, his eyes lowered to sift through a pile of student writings. He’d been scribbling notes in the margins, absentmindedly angling his face this way and that when Forsyth requested.

“And I am incredibly grateful for his presence. However, I did not want to capture him looking like a sleep-deprived schoolteacher –”

“– but that’s exactly what he is –”

“– so I attempted to recreate my personal favorite expression of his.”

Lukas smiled. “Oh? And what would that be?” He placed the papers aside, giving Forsyth his full attention. Lukas nodded to the canvas, encouraging him to reveal it. 

“Well… you see… the point of this whole project…”

Forsyth searched for the right words. The point of the whole project actually struck him months ago, back at Rigel Castle. 

He and Python had sat for their own portraits, which would later be hung in the great hall to commemorate members of the Brotherhood. Forsyth could have cried seeing he and Python’s likenesses full of dignity and chivalry. The whole time, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling of injustice that boiled in his stomach: Lukas would get nothing. 

Sure, his name would appear in the records as the royal family’s right-hand advisor during and after war, but his image would disappear entirely. He left the Brotherhood to fulfill his dreams long before the kingdom was stable enough to commission a professional painter. With his brother furthering the bloodline and becoming the major focus of the household, Lukas was relieved of all marriage obligations – and opportunities for a couple’s portrait. Paintings alongside any future children were out of the question, as well. 

“It’s terribly unfair!” Forsyth had cried. “Are war and romance the only means to remember a man? Is he any less worthy because he will never marry?”

“You’re overthinking things, Fors.” Python had hardly spared him a glance. “Plenty of good people don’t get their paintings done.”

“And that is just as much an outrage!” 

He brought his concerns to Lukas, who seemed at peace with the situation, as Python was. The pair’s disinterest only caused Forsyth more urgency. After a bit of deliberation, he knew there was only one path forward. 

“I shall take this into my own hands.”

They would find out he meant this very literally. He showed up at Lukas’ schoolhouse with various brushes clutched in his hands, an apron thrown over his chest. He pulled up a nearby seat, propped up an easel, and got right to it. It became their routine: once classes dismissed for the day, Lukas would busy himself with reading through his school materials, and Forsyth would busy himself with work of his own.

He’d done his research beforehand, but had never actually painted anyone’s portrait. He looked again at the finished product.

“I was hoping to capture… er… the point of this work is to commemorate your independent situation… and thus… I remembered the days after you first told me, you were the happiest I’d ever seen you. The face is still a rare one, but after that night, I’ve seen that side of you more and more. I just thought…”

He gave an audible huff. Screw it. 

He turned the canvas around. 

“I am sorry. Perhaps I should have gone with a more dignified look, like the other knights’ portraits. I am aware that I have yet to accomplish a professional’s level of –”

“It’s perfect.” 

Forsyth blinked. 

Lukas stared at the canvas. He appeared to be working out his next words. Meanwhile, Python let out a long whistle. “Lookin’ good! Not too shabby, for your first masterpiece.”

“‘Not too shabby’ is an understatement.” Lukas stepped closer to the piece, his voice full of warmth. “Thank you, friend.”

In the painting, Lukas wasn’t sitting straight-backed and stiff; it was focused on his bust, leaning a bit in relaxed movement. He wore casual clothes, none of his usual professional garments. He smiled. His mouth was a little lopsided, a little odd, pinching his eyes a bit, showing some teeth, but not all – and it was a perfect replication. This was Lukas’s true smile, not the one he put up for others to view. 

Python gave him a poke. “So, now what? Where are we gonna do with it? We can’t just smuggle it into the royal gallery. And I don’t think Lukas is the kind of guy who wants to stare at it here in the school all the time.”

“Well, I… er….”

“I mean, we can certainly just go and hang it up somewhere around town, but I don’t think he’s looking for that, either.”

“I just thought he’d want it! For his legacy!” Forsyth huffed. His eyes shone with The kind of determination that the others knew not to overstep on. There was no stopping him now. “It’s important that he’s remembered through the ages! I think of all the heroes that inspired me – the way I gazed at their images in my fathers’ textbooks, gaining hope from their stories…”

“You’re hoping that Lukas ends up in some dusty textbook someday?”

“Indeed!” He beamed, not realizing that Python didn’t see it as a grand victory. “Just imagine: centuries from now, some harrowed scholar, crushed under familiar struggles. They get a hold of a secondhand book, and suddenly, bam!” He gestured to the painting. “They look upon his face and see that everything will be alright. They’ll think, ‘if Sir Lukas of Valentia can do it, and smile so purely at the end of it all, surely I can too!’”

He clenched his fists, caught up in his own excitement. His gaze was somewhere faraway, imagining this incredible future.  

Python scoffed. 

“It sounds like they’re just as much of a hopelessly sentimental dreamer as you are. They’ll probably think, ‘gods, now I need to study up on this guy too?”

“Python…”

“Or, if they’re like me, maybe they’ll think, ‘mmm, that is one fiiine –”

“Python!”

“Alright, alright. I think it’s a real nice gesture, Fors.”

Lukas had been quietly taking everything in for a while. Now he spoke. “I truly believe this is perfect. As you said – this is an expression only saved for rare occasions. It’s difficult for me to smile so genuinely. I… I never really see it myself.”

He placed a hand on Forsyth’s shoulder. “We can hope it reaches others someday, but regardless, I am grateful to have seen it right now. It inspires me about the future. I… I cannot thank you enough.”

[blindlov3fix]

Your Biggest Fan

Hypno and GN!Reader

Warnings: Platonic, kind of a mentor - mentee fic, Fluff

A/N: My first real post! I wanted the first to be more of a heartwarming fluff story so I decided to make this one platonic. But there's sure to be other fics for different characters with different genres so make sure to stick around for that! <3

···························₊˚ ੈ✩༺☆༻✩ ੈ·₊˚·························

Tonight was a big night for you. A very big night. You even marked it on your calendar out of excitement the day you bought your ticket to the show at the magic townhouse. Tonight, instead of the simple museum days, they planned to host a show with your favorite magician of all time!

No, it wasn’t Houdini brought back from the dead (though that would have been the show of a lifetime). It wasn’t Sir John the Kaiser. It wasn’t even that Noah Sheck kid that was pretty good at magic too.

It was Hypnopotamus, the newest magician in the city who had taken all of Manhattan by storm with his incredible acts. Besides the fact that he was a mutant, let alone a former criminal according to the news stations, everyone who was as crazy for magic as you or just looking for some good entertainment had to admit: he was amazing.

And tonight was the night you would actually meet him in person at the meet and greet after the show!

You couldn’t wait but you didn't want to just simply meet the guy. See, you had been practicing your own little trick yourself and looking up card tricks for months now. Bugging your friends to help you practice so you wouldn’t screw it up.

Now, after countless trial and error, you were finally ready, just in time for the show.

Unfortunately, you spent a lot of your savings on that ticket so you couldn’t dress as nice as you wanted in your own dressy suit so you just wore the only one you had. Sure, it had a few tears (which you meant to sew eventually, you just never got a chance to do that), but it was perfectly fine! Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

You opened your closet, reaching the top shelf to grab the top hat sitting in the corner. You brushed off the top, blowing off the dust that collected from sitting in the closet for so long and gently placed it on top of your head.

You walk over to the mirror, checking over yourself and giving one last spin to make sure your outfit was at least decent. You nodded, feeling confident enough that you wouldn’t get laughed out the second you stepped foot in the townhouse.

With a deep breath and a quick adjustment of your top hat, you grab your ticket, stuff it in your pocket and run out of the house.

Getting into the townhouse was a piece of cake (considering you already paid for your entry months ago) and you explored the place since you had a few minutes to spare before the show started. And eventually, you and all of the other guests piled into the auditorium and the show started.

Seeing videos online did not do this man justice. He lit up the room when he talked (literally, he managed to shoot fireworks out of his mouth!). His acts were nothing like you’ve never seen before and there was no way there was a wire anywhere in sight. It was incredible. This whole show was just…magical.

But all good things must come to an end and the show was over an hour later. But that was the best hour of your life. So far anyway.

And the fun of the night wasn’t over yet either! There was still the amazing chance to actually meet Hypno, face to face. To say you ran to the exit doors when the house lights came on would be an understatement.

You and the other guests all made your way to the next room over where Hypnopotamus himself was waiting in all his hippo glory, a cardboard backdrop with his name on it in big bold letters stood behind him for anyone interested in photos. A velvet rope was shut in front of him, making a narrow path in front of him.

“Hello all you beautiful people! Thanks for coming out tonight!” He started, raising his arms out in the air as people flocked in with each other. “I hope you all enjoyed the show!”

He gets a group cheer from everyone, chuckling. “Alright, well, I’m guessing you’re all here for the meet ‘n greet! Unless you’re looking for the dunny, that’s down the hall to your left.” He jokes. A few people laugh at the joke but soon everyone gets in a single file line in front of velvet rope. That was the one thing separating the fans from the hippo’s cage and that was quickly unclipped by Hypno himself.

You got stuck close to somewhat of the end of the line. You definitely would have been closer to the front but you just got a bit nervous and froze up a bit, getting an even closer look at your idol. And you did get shoved a bit so others could get higher in the line so you couldn’t be picky, you’d still meet him. Just a bit later than you would have hoped.

You decided to pass the time by rehearsing your lines for your trick, muttering under your breath. It was a great distraction for the twisting in your stomach as you slowly moved closer to him.

Before you knew it, a majority of the people in front of you had disappeared, leaving only a handful left. You could see Hypno even better this close.

He was practically glowing. I mean, there he was, mere feet away from you. And you were about to really meet him. You would get to shake his hand and talk to him about how he made it as a pro magic guy- er mutant. Maybe as for some tips? But a magician never reveals his secrets so that was probably a hard no—

But you shook your head, shaking away the thoughts starting to flood your mind. You were here for a different reason. Focus.

But god, you were shitting yourself as you got closer to the front of the line.

Just three people in front of you. Seconds pass and the line gets shorter. Less than a minute later and you’re standing in front of him. Due to the fact that he was a giant hippo, he practically towered over you, which was just a tad bit intimidating, you couldn’t lie.

Waving goodbye to the last fan that he was just chatting with, Hypno’s eyes widen just a bit when he sees you walk up, with a rather worn down suit and top hat to match. Well, this was new. Perhaps you were one of those costume people? He could never remember that funny little name people on the internet used (forgive him for being a bit more old school).

“Well, what have we here then? Are you dressed up as your’s truly?” He asked, keeping a dramatic flair to still entertain the others waiting in line for their time to talk to him but he was intrigued when you shook your head. “No, actually.” You started, taking off your top hat and nervously fiddling with the hem. “I um…I’m kind of a magician too. I wanted to show you my- my card trick.” You stutter, keeping your eyes down.

“Your very own card trick, huh?” Hypno chuckles, putting a finger on his chin and pretending to think about it for a second. “Hm…alright then! Why not? Always happy to see tricks from fellow magicians!” He says, putting his hands on his hips.

“Whenever you’re ready.” He reassured, a small smile cracking through your expression. You took a small breath, putting your hat back on. Alright, just like you practiced.

You pull a deck of cards out from inside your jacket, spreading them out in front of you. “Pick a card, any card.” You muttered but you were surprised to see Hypno somewhat frowning.

Fuck, did you already mess up?? Is a card trick too basic for him? How did you screw up already?!

But thankfully, Hypno is quick to stop you from spiraling as he explains himself. “Nah, come on. Where’s your charisma? Your confidence?” He questioned, tilting his head. “You gotta be bold! Grab my attention and don’t let go, not for a second!” He straightens his back and gives you a small wink. “Try it again. More energy this time.”

You feel the sudden sting in your eyes of tears threatening to show up but you quickly shut that down by blinking them away. It was the confidence boost you desperately needed. And with your idol being so supportive in the short time you met him, you might as well put on a show for him.

With another deep breath, you hold out the deck to him once again. “Pick a card! Any card!” This time, your voice had the energy Hypno was looking for, nothing like the little whisper you started with the first time. It even managed to draw the attention of the other’s around you, all gathering around to watch. “Yeah! There ya go!” Hypno laughed, his smile growing.

He takes a card from somewhere in the middle of the deck. “Now, be sure to remember which card you have.” You reminded him, covering your eyes with one hand. “You can even show it to the audience if you want. But don’t worry, I’m not peeking.” You lowered your hand for a second, peeking one eye out. “Or am I?” You joked, pulling a few chuckles out of the audience before covering your eyes once again.

Hypno flipped the card around for everyone to see. It was the three of spades. “Now, turn that card back around so only you can see it.”

He obliges and you lower your hand again. “All you have to do is hold that card and watch my hands and I’ll try to guess which card you have.” You say, starting to shuffle the cards in your hands.

Hypno watches, wanting to see how this will go since he’s holding the card. There’s no way to change it with some neat shuffling if he has it in his own possession.

Your shuffling suddenly stops. “Now, what I didn’t tell you is there is a double of every card in this deck. There’s a twin for each one.” You pull a card from the top, flipping it around so he could see. “Is this your card’s twin?” You ask.

In your hand was a seven of hearts. Hypno sighs a bit. “Sorry, mate. That wasn’t it.” He says, shaking his head slightly. It was heartbreaking at that moment. He remembered his first time messing up a trick in public. The embarrassment almost made him want to quit magic entirely. He hoped you wouldn’t end up doing the same. With how nervous you were to even come up to him, he didn’t want to be the one who ended up crushing your magic dreams.

But your smile never faltered.

“Sure it is. Look at your card.” You chuckled, idly shuffling the deck again. Hypno raises a brow, his eyes landing on the card in his fingers. Lo and behold, he was holding a seven of hearts. He smiles in surprise, turning his card around for the crowd to see.

Their gasps and exclaims were enough to make your smile even bigger, along with your confidence. “But that wasn’t your original card, was it, Mr. Hypno?” You continue.

“No, it was not.” He chuckles. You hold your hand out to take the card back and he hands it to you. “Your original card and its twin are actually nowhere in this deck!” You spread the deck out so every card is visible, slowly spinning so the whole crowd can see as well.

“Then, where is my card, little magician?” Hypno asks, putting his hands on his hips, watching how you grabbed the audience’s attention. Just like he told you to. He could tell you were having so much fun.

You fold the deck together again, putting them back in your jacket. “Check your back pocket.”

Hypno stares at you for a second before quirking a brow at you, smiling like an idiot. He reaches a hand into his back pocket, revealing his original three of spades and sliding it through his fingers to reveal the copy of that exact card right behind it.

The crowd all yelled out in shock and excitement, starting to applaud you. It felt good, you had to admit. But the dam broke when Hypno of all people joined in on the applause. You could die right then and there and be happy.

But to save your own ego and not ruin this amazing moment, you took a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart and bowed, like any good magician would after a show.

Hypno patted you on the back, moving his hand to rest on your shoulder. “The ol’ sleight of hand. You really are something. From one magician to another, I’m truly impressed.”

You smiled up at him, feeling your throat tighten. It was taking everything in your power not to cry on the spot, or worse, hug him right there. “Thank you.” You croaked, rubbing your eyes free of tears.

He smiles and nods. “You know, a magician like you deserves a much better wardrobe, don’t you think?” He chuckles. “I don’t think the worn down look suits you very well, no offense.”

Before you could even ask what he meant by that, he was standing behind you, gently tugging on the cloth of your blouse sleeves. “Do you mind?” He asked, leaning over to make sure the contact was alright with you.

You didn’t have a clue what he was going to do but you just shrugged. “Uh..sure? Go ahead.”

He smiled and pulled back on your jacket and you thought he had actually ripped the damn thing off of your shoulders like some tear away pants or something. There was even some shiny confetti that appeared around you as he did it. You panicked for a split second and the sudden cheer from the crowd again didn't help your worry. But you were rendered speechless when you looked down and realized.

He just did a costume change. On you.

Gone was the tattered and bland suit and top hat, now replaced with a chic black suit and bowtie, covered in golden accents and accessories. Both hands were perfectly fitted with white gloves. And your hat was pristine, pretty much brand new and was fitted with a gemstone that shimmered and shined in the light. It was like a dream.

Yeah, this time, you couldn’t stop the tears. You literally started sobbing on the spot, which is bound to keep you up at night some time in the future. Hypno tried to offer you a handkerchief to clean yourself up, apologizing profusely which some of the crowd audibly ‘awwed’ (and laughed a little).

But this truly was the best night of your life.

[silverynight]

Comfort omega

<---Previous

Chapter 13

Epilogue

Izuku wakes up with a smile on his face even though he knows he's alone in bed; Katsuki has gone to work early that morning and the omega knows he probably didn't want to wake him up.

He keeps smiling anyway, still having the sensation of his alpha's arm around his waist. Katsuki has gotten into the habit of wrapping his arms around Izuku's middle and pulling him closer to his body while he's asleep. The omega doesn't mind it at all, he loves Katsuki, although he also has become a lot more overprotective lately.

Izuku thinks it's because of the beautiful biting mark Katsuki has left on his scent glands or the fact that it's been a month since they got married.

Still, Izuku doesn't mind a protective alpha, as long as he doesn't start to tell him not to go to work or something, which of course Katsuki hasn't and probably never will because he's proven he's a very good alpha.

The omega finally gets off the bed, takes a quick shower and decides to make himself breakfast before going to work. Breakfast for one since Katsuki won't be coming back until later that day.

He makes himself pancakes and eggs... But as soon as his mouth touches one of those he starts feeling dizzy and nauseous. That's when Izuku decides that maybe breakfast is not meant for him that day and drinks a little bit of orange juice before heading to work.

***

After putting on his safety glasses, Izuku grins at the new piece of equipment for Uravity's suit. He knows she's going to love it.

"Bakugo, are you alright? You look a little bit pale." One of his co-workers asks, concerned.

"I'm fine, but thank you for worrying about me," Izuku says, smiling at her, although he's a little bit flustered now. It's been a month and he still gets warm and fuzzy inside whenever someone calls him by his new last name.

"You also smell more sweet than usual this morning," Hatsume points out, without taking her eyes from Red Riot's suit.

"What?" Izuku blinks in confusion, he hasn't noticed, even though he's a very intuitive omega. "I'm not going into heat, that was a couple of weeks a-ago."

He feels himself blush as he remembers he had to take a few days off (and Katsuki had to do the same) to spent it with his husband.

The omega shakes his head to push those memories away; that's definitely not the time to think about that.

"It's probably nothing to worry about," another of his co-workers says, waving his hand dismissively. "I mean... What if your scent is a little bit more sweet than usual? You still smell good to me."

Izuku nods and decides not to think about that for the rest of the day.

***

By the time he gets off work, Izuku is starving and since Katsuki is not back home yet (they've been texting each other every now and then) he decides to go get some dinner with Aoyama.

"I want the spiciest noodles you have," he finds himself saying to the waiter.

"Your explosive alpha asked you to bring him some?"

"No, this bowl is for me," the omega says, prompting Aoyama to quirk up one of his brows at him. "I know, I know... I mean I usually don't like food that burns my tongue, but today I'm craving spicy food... I don't know why."

"Sure. Just be careful, mon ami," Aoyama nods, although he observes him with curiosity for the rest of the evening. "Why don't you tell me about your day?"

Izuku does and when he finishes telling him, there's something different in Aoyama's eyes.

"So you felt dizzy? Only in the morning?"

"A couple of times during the day, especially around food, but there's nothing to worry about! I mean I'm perfectly fine now."

"You know what? Why don't we keep chatting for a bit in your fancy apartment?"

Izuku buys another bowl for Katsuki and gets into Aoyama's car, however, the blond omega stops at the pharmacy and tells Izuku to wait for him.

"Did you need suppressants?"

"Something like that... I also bought ice cream!"

Izuku can't help it, he gets a little bit distracted by the mention of ice cream.

"Chocolate?"

"Of course, mon ami."

***

Whenever he's back in their apartment, Izuku likes to put on comfortable shorts and one of Katsuki's t-shirts. He sits on the couch while Aoyama finds another two bowls to eat ice cream together.

However, at some point his friend approaches him without ice cream. Izuku feels tempted to pout, but then he notices Aoyama has a funny expression on his face.

"What is it?"

"Listen... I don't want you to get your hopes up, but I think you should take these two to the bathroom."

"What do you–" Izuku doesn't get to finish the question because that's when he sees the two pregnancy tests in his friend's hand. "Really? I mean..."

"I just thought about the things you told me... Especially about you feeling nauseous in the morning. This doesn't mean... Just don't get too excited yet."

Izuku can't help it, his heart is already beating happily and his hands shake a bit when he takes both tests and runs towards the bathroom.

He doesn't come back with an answer yet, because they have to wait a couple of minutes. Instead, Izuku tries to distract himself with a bowl of chocolate ice cream.

It doesn't quite work.

"It's okay if you're not. Don't get all sad because of that, you can keep trying..."

"It's time!" The green haired omega jumps off the couch, almost dropping his bowl in the process. He leaves it on the counter before he rushes towards the bathroom again, right where he left them.

"So?"

Positive. They're both positive.

Sobbing, Izuku runs out to hug his friend.

"I'm going to have a pup!"

"Maybe a couple..." Aoyama smiles back at him. "I can't believe I'm going to be Uncle Aoyama soon!"

Tearing up, Izuku touches his own belly, even though the pregnancy is not noticeable yet.

"Well... It's time for me to go because you have to tell something to your explosive alpha. Call me tomorrow, alright?"

Izuku nods, shaking a little. He feels nervous, even though he knows Katsuki is going to like the news.

***

By the time Katsuki comes back, Izuku has calmed down or that's what he thinks. He heats his alpha's noodles again and puts them in a bowl.

"Kacchan, I brought your favo–"

The alpha ignores the food completely and instead takes Izuku in his arms and buries his face in the curve of his neck.

"I missed you," Katsuki takes a deep breath, right before he starts kissing his cute omega all over the face.

Izuku can't help it, he starts sobbing, which prompts the pro hero to immediately take a step back and look at him with concern.

"What is it, Izuku? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no! Of course not!" The omega assures him, feeling Katsuki's thumbs on his cheeks, trying to wipe off the tears.

"Do I have to kill someone?"

"No," Izuku chuckles then, rubbing his nose against Katsuki's. "These are happy tears."

"But... Izuku..."

The omega cradles Katsuki's face in his hands and the smile on his face becomes wide despite the tears.

"Kacchan... I'm pregnant."

The pro hero freezes, even though there's a lot of emotions and thoughts glimmering in his eyes at once. Izuku bites his bottom lip with worry, a concern that only grows when Katsuki blinks, drops to his knees and puts both arms around Izuku's middle.

"Kacchan!"

"Are you sure?" The alpha has tears in his eyes as well, but he's fighting them, trying to keep it together.

"Yes! We're going to be parents, Kacchan!" Izuku squeaks with delight when he feels kisses on his belly before the pro hero carries him towards the couch and cuddles with him.

"You're the best thing that could've happened to me, Izuku."

That's when Izuku bursts into happy tears again. Katsuki tries to kiss them away even though he's tearing up too.

***

They tell their friends a couple of days later. Although they don't exactly get the opportunity to actually say the words because Ashido guesses right away.

Then Izuku is attacked with hugs; Katsuki growls at Todoroki when the other alpha pulls Izuku into his arms, but calms down when Izuku kisses the blond pro hero on the chin.

It's been a little bit challenging already, Katsuki has become a bit possessive and overprotective and has a hand on Izuku's waist most of the time.

Fortunately, he doesn't let his instincts get the best of him and their friends are more than used to his grumpy behavior already so none of them get mad at it.

"Congratulations!" Uraraka grins, before squeezing Izuku into her arms.

"Careful, round cheeks!"

"I'm fine, Kacchan!"

Of course, Katsuki's friends don't waste the opportunity to tease him about his overreactions when it comes to Izuku and his safety and even though he growls at them, the omega can tell he's having a good time.

He sits Izuku on his lap and keeps one of his big hands on Izuku's belly the whole time as the omega happily tells their friends how he found out he was pregnant.

"Did Blasty cry?"

"NO."

"Yes, he did." Izuku chuckles before giving his grumpy alpha a kiss on the forehead. The pro hero immediately softens. "He's actually very sweet."

Katsuki doesn't even deny it this time.

"You're going to be a great Dad, you know?" Izuku whispers against his ear, giggling when he notices the blush on Katsuki's cheeks.

He can tell his alpha is desperate to meet the pups, because even though they haven't gone to a doctor yet, Izuku is sure now that he's having two pups.

***

Patreon

[slightlyunconventional]

PLEASE more Sick sneezy k//az b//rekker if you can!

absolutely anon! it would be an honour

keep the s&b/soc requests coming guys i love it

i present:

tired (alternatively, "in which k/az b/rekker and his cold-ridden self pine over i/nej and learn why stifling is in fact bad")

A soft knock at the door. “Can I come in?”

Kaz’s eyes flickered open, clouded by exhaustion. He hadn’t slept in days, and as a result of this seemed to be fighting to stay conscious every waking moment. Running a leather-clad hand across his face and sighing, Kaz replied to the inquiring voice.

“Now’s… not a good time.”

He could almost feel Inej's disapproving frown. Another sigh escaped him. “Give me five minutes.”

Saints, the things I do for these people, he thought, shaking his head at no one in particular. Kaz sat up in his seat, straightened the cuff his face had slowly been sliding down as he strained to stay awake, and fixed a few stray pieces of hair that had slipped from his pristinely groomed head. He took a single sip from the glass of water on his desk, grateful for its coolness against his sore throat. A quick, tentative dab at his nose with a tissue, then he was up opening the door to Inej.

“Do you need something?” he asked, regarding her with an eyebrow raised.

She ignored his question, instead replying, “How long has it been since you slept?”

Kaz was slightly taken aback by this. Here he’d thought his lack of proper self-care was rather surreptitious, but then he supposed nothing escaped the observant eyes of the Wraith.

“And, yes, I’m referring to those circles under your eyes. You look awful.” Inej added. She folded her arms. Despite the girl’s slight stature, Inej easily managed the look of an intimidatingly concerned mother.

“Thanks,” Kaz said humourlessly, “Seems I’m doing that a lot lately.”

“You know what I meant.”

Of course I did, I just wanted to see you smile.

“You still haven’t answered my question. How long has it-”

Kaz stopped listening as a distasteful buzz took up residence in his sinuses. It had intensified tenfold before Inej had even finished speaking.

“-gGNKTt!”

The tightly-pinched stifle left his head spinning. He blinked back stars as Inej whirled around to face him.

“...What was that?” she asked, tone almost demanding.

Kaz huffed. “Nothing.”

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

He couldn’t reply - his nose burned with the same fiery insistence as moments ago.

“-heh’GNKkxt!”

Despite being contained perfectly between gloved thumb and forefinger, the sneeze still possessed a rather wet quality. It prompted a thick sniffle from Kaz.

“That was a sneeze?” Inej asked incredulously. Kaz saw her holding back a smile and fought not to roll his eyes.

“Yes, if you must know,” he replied, voice already dulled with congestion.

Inej cocked her head to one side. “You shouldn’t stifle them like that, you know. It causes damage.”

If Kaz had five kruge for every time he’d heard that from someone. This time he did roll his eyes. As if I’m not damaged enough, he thought.

“I can’t help it.” A lie.

“Oh, of course you can’t,” Inej teased. “So you’d still do it if, say, I pinned your hands behind your back? Would your dignity be able to survive that?”

Kaz ignored the warmth that rose in his cheeks.

He simply said, “Don’t push it.”

Yet again, before Inej could even think about responding, Kaz was crushing a third sneeze expertly between his fingers.

“hhaH’GNKXxt!”

Inej’s brows furrowed in concern. “That’s not normal,” she said, eyes narrow with worry, “Bless you, by the way, if that even warrants a blessing.”

He sniffed wetly in response, nose reddening by the minute. Inej seemed to clock this as she spoke again.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?” she asked. Kaz couldn’t help but notice the glow cast on her bronze skin by the autumn sunshine. He shook the thought from his mind, then shook his head at Inej.

“I’m fine.”

“Again, do you expect me to believe that? I don’t think “fine” people look as exhausted as you do.” She appeared to think for a moment, head tilted ever so slightly skyward. “It was that ridiculous negotiation from last night, wasn’t it? It was bucketing down all evening. Saints, Kaz, when did this start?”

“I… don’t know.” Another lie. He had known exactly when it started - one telling sneeze muffled clumsily into the towel he used to dry his hair of rainwater. Inej didn’t need to know that, though. She probably still does, somehow, Kaz acknowledged.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You really aren’t acting yourself.”

He scowled halfheartedly. “How am I supposed to act?”

Inej simply sighed. “I’ll leave you to it. Do you need anything?”

Scathing words caught on Kaz’s tongue, his mind eager to push away any and all help he was offered. He bit it back, shook his head.

With a soft, sympathetic smile, she turned to leave, evidently still teeming with worry.

“I’ll come and check on you later.”

Kaz waited for Inej’s footsteps to fade before succumbing to the reignited inferno in his sinuses. He snapped forward with a pair of wrenching sneezes.

“hH’GKKTSCHh! Hah..hUH’kKTSCCHHh!”

Saints, this is going to get old, he thought in frustration.

-

A knock, again, softer this time, though. Kaz lifted his head wearily, rubbing absentmindedly the haze of sleep that had misted his vision. He turned the situation over in his mind, waiting for something to click. Then he realised - he’d been asleep, at his desk, where any wretch could have seen him, done anything to him. The thought made a cold feeling settle in his stomach.

“Kaz? Everything okay?”

The cold thawed a little at the familiar voice. Inej.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly again. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Kaz didn’t really know if he wanted to face anyone at the moment, but his mind was made up for him when the door creaked slowly open, followed by Inej, who held a cup of something steaming in her graceful hands. “Saints, Kaz, you look even worse.”

“Thanks. What time is it?” he asked, rubbing a hand across his face.

“About nine. In the evening,” replied Inej, voice gentle, doting. A bolt of panic cracked through Kaz. He’d been asleep five hours.

Inej set the cup down on Kaz’s desk in front of him. He regarded it warily.

“It’s chamomile with a spoonful of honey. And a mint leaf - that should help to… clear the airways.”

Kaz still looked puzzled.

Inej sighed exasperatedly. “It’s tea.”

“Tea,” he repeated.

“Yes, yes, I know. Dark and mysterious people only drink the blackest coffee! But that won’t do you any good. This will help you-”

“Thank you.” Kaz said quietly.

“-feel better. Oh.” Inej paused, watching the dark-haired man closely for a moment. “You’re welcome.”

Kaz glanced at his hands, no, at his gloves. He wondered if it would be okay to take them off. She won’t mind, he reminded himself, she’s not like anybody else.

He slid his black gloves weakly from his hands, allowing his own pale, slender fingers to curl around the cup of tea. Warmth seemed to spread throughout him, enough to settle the shivers that kept plaguing him, even for just a minute. He lifted the mug, acutely aware of Inej’s eyes locked on him, on his hands. She’d seen him without his gloves before, many times, but Kaz still recognised her gaze fixated on him every single time. A part of him welcomed it. He’d gaze at her often, too.

Inej appeared to note the way he held the cup so tightly.

“Are you cold?” she blurted without thinking. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

“No.” The third bold-faced lie. He could tell this time she really didn’t believe him.

“Then why are you gripping that mug like it’s the only thing keeping you alive?”

He ignored her, instead lifting said mug to his mouth. Steam wafted into his face, taking both him and his nose by surprise. The humid wisps teased out a sneeze that he was far too exhausted to suppress.

“hhH’gGGKTCHHUHh!”

The mug he was still holding jolted upwards, a sharp motion which mirrored his own snap forward. He wasn’t done. The ferocious tickle refused to back down, and he was left with his face slack, lips curled up in almost a snarl, before the burn climaxed and bent him in on himself with a tearing-

“haH’KZZXSCHiew!”

Kaz didn’t even notice the scalding tea pouring down his wrist.

“Saints, Kaz!” Inej rushed forward, taking the mug from his hands and quickly wiped the hot liquid from his skin and shirt. A glance back at his face told Inej that Kaz still was gearing up for another explosion. By now, his nose was pink, close to red around the rims of his nostrils which flared desperately with every hitch of his breath. Two more sneezes volleyed through him, seeming to rock his entire form.

“hAH’GKKSCHHh! huh-HUH-HH’GKKTSCHEW!”

The double left Kaz panting, gasping for breath, eyes brimming with tears. All attempts at stifling had gone straight out of the window. He looked up at Inej, whose face was full of concern. Justified, I suppose, he thought.

“Do you still want to tell me you’re “fine”, Kaz?” Inej asked in disbelief.

“...It’s not as bad as it looks?” he tried.

“Oh, it very much is,” Inej said sternly. Then, her face softened. Kaz was still knuckling his nose with one pale hand. “Don’t fuss at it so much,” she said, “you’ll just keep making yourself sneeze.”

He huffed, not unlike an annoyed infant. Inej handed him a small travel-pack of soft tissues.

“Here, these should help. And you still look cold. You ought to put on an extra layer or two.” Inej didn’t expect the submissive nod she received in response. “I know how much you hate being coddled, so I’ll let you be. But I will be checking on you every hour, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.”

Inej was sure she didn’t imagine the sound of Kaz’s head collapsing into his arms as she left. She couldn’t resist a glance back into the room, and, sure enough, he was already fast asleep. The door clicked quietly behind her as she tiptoed down the stairs.

[madamefluffnstuff]

TES Summerfest 2024, Day 3: Ghost

Day 3 of TES Summerfest 2024! Hosted by @tes-summer-fest.

Fandom: Elder Scrolls Online Paring: Yisara x Mathren Rating: K Warning(s): Spoilers for the Blackwood Zone quest "The Ghostwriter of Giovesse". Words: 932 AN: God I love this quest so much, I stayed up late just to finish it and figure out what happened.

Yisara is having a bit of writer's block, and Mathren convinces her to get some rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Egg and Hammer Inn was quiet. Peaceful, even, on the new moon night. A new moon meant there was more darkness than normal. If one wanted to do some late night reading, they'd need a very bright candle.

Yisara sat at her portable writing desk with not one, but two, very bright candles. Her lips pressed against a curled index finger, chin propped up with a tapping thumb. Soft brown waves of hair framed her face, having been set free from the confines of her bun. The candlelight starkly illuminated her facial features, especially her amber-green eyes, which were so unwaveringly focused on the half-filled sheet of manuscript in front of her.

She let out a soft sigh through her nose. Writer's block was hitting hard again.

Perhaps unironically, the quill in her hand had run dry some time ago. The lack of accidental ink blots in the margins was a testament to her careful planning with this piece. Even if it was only a rough draft.

The budding author set down the quill and picked up the first few sheets she had completed earlier. Maybe a quick re-read... Yisara thought. Alas, she ended up in the same spot as before. She let out another sigh, heavier this time, nearly all the air escaping her lungs. Perhaps she had stayed up too late and was running on empty again.

Just then, she felt something shift in her pocket. Yisara's head jerked a little as her hand frantically reached to grab the item. The tiny object practically leapt into her hand. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled her hand from her pocket and looked at what she fished out;

Mathren's ring. She stared intently for a moment before rolling the coiled metal band between her fingers. Funny, she could have sworn she put it in the special jewelry pouch in her pack before she went to freshen up for bed. How did it get in her sleep clothes' pocket? Not that she was complaining, of course. Just confused.

As if on cue, the ring flipped itself over in her palm, where she could now see the tiny inscription on the inside. She jumped a little.

"Mathren, not right now," Yisara murmured to the trinket. "Now's not a good time..."

It seemed the aforementioned Imperial didn't like that very much, as the ring began to quiver against her fingers. An uneasy feeling began to creep into her, like she could sense his own unease. No- his worry?

Yes.

Her paperwork suddenly found itself being flung into her carrying case alongside the hastily capped ink pot. The Redguard woman knew very well Mathren was a spirit- she was reminded of it on a daily basis. She knew he couldn't physically touch her. But this sense of urgency... He wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. And the ring was the only way.

Yisara pawed through her travel bags looking for the other essential piece to communicate with Mathren. "Come on, I know it's in here somewhere," she muttered to herself. Suddenly there was a solid thump and her head jerked to the side. She froze- There it was, in plain sight- the Spirit Lantern.

She blinked a couple of times before smiling. Of course he did. With the same care one would use holding a newborn babe, she picked up the lantern and set it on the nightstand. Then she reached for one of her slightly too bright candles and brought it to the burner. Once she blew on it to give it a strong flame and she was sure it would stay, Yisara snatched the ring up and slipped it on her pointer finger. The one that had been resting on her lips earlier.

Whether it was the magic in the ring or the smoke from the lantern, Mathren's ghostly form materialized at the end of the bed. Shirtless, of course.

"Yisara, my love."

She gave him a slightly exasperated but smitten smile. "Mathren."

He gently grasped her hand. Even with his corporeal form she could still feel the chill of his spectral fingers on her own.

"Are you being unkind to yourself again, dearest?"

She shrugged. "No, not unkind. Just having some writer's block is all. Again."

Mathren smiled back. "And how late is it?"

"...very late."

An echoey chuckled sounded through the room. Yisara was so used to that noise it didn't bother her anymore. Mathren shifted positions a bit, bringing one leg onto the bed and leaned against his knee.

"Perhaps it's time for you to rest. You've done plenty of good work today. And like you said once- you can always revisit it later."

Yisara nodded, acknowledging he was right. She sighed quietly. "I really should."

Mathren ran an ethereal hand along his love's cheek. "If you'd like, I can sit and watch over you so no one bothers you. I don't need sleep like I used to."

To anyone who didn't have the ring or the lantern, it was a rather strange sight- a young Redguard woman sleeping in an inn bed, with the covers moving on their own accord to tuck her in. Soon after, a large divot formed at the foot of the bed, as if someone was sitting there. A few out of place footsteps could be heard near the doors and windows, as if checking them out.

To Yisara, however, her spectral beloved was just making sure she was safe and sound. And for that she was very grateful.

Sometimes having a ghost for a partner has its' advantages.

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

But they said…

[katsuki, hawks, fumikage]

Your gazes meeting was the instant he was aware something was off. Even from such a great distance, with multiple people between the two of you, the pro hero who was surrounded by fans of various ages had easily found your form amongst the sea of individuals stumbling over themselves for his attention. Daylight came with its responsibilities which meant that so long as the sun was up he was within the public’s focus. Despite that fact he would often make excuses or find some way to check in on you.

One of your hands rose in a silent greeting before turning away. It would be sometime before he’d return to the agency where he told you to meet him for lunch so why not kill a little time by shopping a little? The spark of hope flickered dangerously close to extinguishing completely when you spotted a familiar figure in the distance. That’s right, your partner works close by so that would explain their sudden appearance. But you knew that already and still made show of being surprised to see them. Their smile that had once been charming and captivating now held nothing but hidden malicious intent when they began to approach. “O-oh, hey.”

“Surprised to see you out and about, (Y/n). Didn’t you say that you’d be working?”

Not surprising they skipped greeting altogether and went straight on the offense. A heavy weight settled within your stomach. “Y-yeah, that’s what I wrote on the calendar in the kitchen. I also wrote that I wouldn’t be home for l-lunch.” Your tongue steadily grew numb with each word that passed over it until it limply settled back within its bed as they stared down at you with disapproval. “I-I asked you about it several days ago and you said—”

“Stop stuttering. It’s so annoying as hell and hurts my ears.” They scoffed while picking at a piece of lint that you knew didn’t exist before they fixed you with another pointed glare. “You have enough to cover your half of the mortgage yet?”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I’ve been working on it.” The entirety of your body wanted to flinch when their hand lashed for your face, a wall meeting your back that left you nowhere left to run as their fingers tucked a few strands of your hair behind an ear.

Their face moved to hover over yours, gaze sharpening. “So you had the money to buy yourself that outfit you’re wearing but don’t have enough to sustain your place of residency?”

Shame filled you. It was the first thing you’d bought for leisure outside of the necessities for the last four weeks. The jacket you were wearing was a new favorite piece of yours that would go with most of your spring and fall wardrobes but there was no denying that it had indeed cost quite a bit more than you cared to admit. “You said that I shouldn’t wear anything that would make people think less of you and I’ve been working all three jobs endlessly—”

Again your sentence was prevented from ending courtesy of the hand which had been gentle with your hair became rough as it took hold of your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh as their lip curled. “So then explain to me how having three jobs still entitles you to be late on payment. I’m being more than generous by covering over fifty-percent of it. How is it fair to me that you’re out buying yourself stuff like this when I’m slaving away at my job?”

Blood spread across your palette thanks to the bite of your tongue to stop words from coming out. No matter what you said when they were in this irritated mood there was no winning. Not that you ever did. “I’ll see if I can pick up any extra shifts.”

“Tonight.”

“T-tonight? Okay, then I probably won’t be home to make dinner then—” Ice filled your veins when they growled. “—I’ll be sure to pick something up on my way home for you.”

They smiled widely when a passerby paused, looping an arm around your wait and pressing their lips against your temples in a quick peck. “Couldn’t ask for a better lover than you.” Your eyes clenched shut when their tongue drifted down to trail the length of your ear, their breath stinking from lack of personal hygiene. “I’m feelin’ a bit riled so be sure to have an energy drink before coming home so that you can tend to my body.”

Powerless, your head weakly nodded and then they were gone down the street as their name was called by a group of similarly dressed individuals. Exhaustion has already been creeping upon you throughout the morning so the pressure of picking up more shifts held as much pleasure as what was going to be waiting for you at home…none.

The store where you had bought the the jacket was nearby and it still had the tag in its pocket. Hopefully they would accept your return of it. Loss filled you while shedding it slowly, folding it with extra care as you began walking, carefully smoothing out the minimal wrinkling that had appeared from your wearing it. Retail associates instantly recognized you when entering, their expressions falling when you voiced about the reason you’d returned. They voiced on how great the jacket looked on you, how excited you had been, and the amount of confidence that you’d gained when walking out of the store wearing it. You simply smiled and thanked them for their kind words while placing it near the register. Return was accepted and the charge was receded within a few minutes, then you parted with the false hope of returning for it at a later date.

Fingers trembling, you pulled out your phone and made to dial each employer in turn when it went off. Within your throat rose a lump threatening to choke you when the words “shouldn’t go spending money on stuff that you don’t need” closely followed by an emoji that looked disgusted and “color and silhouette were all wrong for you anyway…better to get rid of it.” The lingering taste of blood on your tongue grew as another part of your tongue was victim to your bite. It wasn’t your place to object, they’d made that very clear when you’d started dating. At first it had seemed acceptable and tolerable but it’s steadily becoming more eccentric as time passed. Everything had to be on their terms, they wouldn’t care if you followed what they said before so long as you obeyed their new rules without question, even your lifestyle had greatly been adjusted to suit their preferences. Several of your family and friends had been cut from your life but they’d assured you that it was for the best.

The first employer you called blatantly said that you’d been given a day off on purpose for health reasons; they didn’t like how you weren’t taking your lunches or eating during breaks.

The second questioned if you were trying for a new record of working consecutive days straights but agreed to give you a short shift.

The third, and final, employer refused on the grounds that you’d already worked too much overtime with the comment that they were beginning to suspect you were a workaholic.

A quick text was sent to relay that you’d picked up a shift and asked what they felt in the mood for dinner. Their response of “don’t bother me with such stupid questions, I’m busy” wasn’t surprising in the least but you shrugged off the harshness while hurrying home. Another text was sent, this time to your friend accompanied by a cute emoji sticker asking for their forgiveness, and received a swift response to not worry about missing the lunch meetup.

Little did you know that as you hurried home to change into uniform there was a figure standing atop of a nearby roof watching the whole ordeal from start to finish with narrowed eyes.

Several hours later you were struggling to close the car door while juggling a bag of food and drinks The sun had set, leaving you to blindly grope around in the dark entryway until the key unlocked the door. “Sorry I’m late, I picked up your favorite without any onions and extra mustard.” The smile raising your lips quivered then fell into a disbelieving line when spotting them across the room barely illuminated by the light of a movie they weren’t paying attention to.

So fixated were they on the figure who cooed and moaned loudly that it wasn’t until the unknown person’s head fall back to rest against the couch’s armrest did your gazes meet; it was one of their coworkers.

They didn’t stop their ministrations, even when the drinks and food fell from your hands to lay ruined on the floor, their gaze locking on yours. “You took too long so I made a phone call.” Their lip rose in a snarl while propping themselves up high enough to reveal their shirt was unbuttoned. Fury filled their gaze as they rose to stand. “And how many times do I have to tell you that its no mustard and extra onions?! Can’t you get anything right?!” Lipstick stained their lips when they flipped on the light once marching over to where you stood frozen, fingers grabbing your chin. Alcohol was thick on their breath as they shook you roughly. “Can’t you get one fucking thing right?! Why do I have to do everything for you?! Are you just that damn stupid?!”

Tears spilled down your cheeks not at the pain from their grip but from the betrayal that stabbed your chest.

This infuriated them farther. Their hand released your chin and struck hard across your face, casing it to snap to the side. “What have I told you about crying in front of me?!” The force of their blow sent you reeling into a wall, collapsing due to the lacking strength within your legs, causing you to tremble as they stood over you. “Seriously, how much more pathetic can you get, (Y/n)? I thought you loved me,” they dropped to one knee as a hand buried itself into your hair and forced you to meet their blazing gaze, “but no one like you could possibly know what that word even means. I wasted so much time on you that I can’t even look at you anymore. I want you gone by morning.” Their head briefly snapped to the figure who was on the couch when they voiced complaint about waiting before refocusing upon you with renewed ferocity. “Get out of my sight. I’ll deal with you later.”

Doom settled over you. “B-but this is my—” Pain erupted across your being as with an unceremonious toss you’d been effectively removed from the residence.

Everything went dark after that.

How you found yourself within the hero’s hold you’ll never know, your head resting against his chest as the night air tickled your skin. The familiar insignia of a hospital came into view but it was blurry and hard to bring into focus courtesy of head-splitting headache. “It’s alright, you can rest easy now.” He adjusted his hold, bringing you closer so that his heat could better stem off the cold from night. “They can’t hurt you anymore.” Confusion filled you, which much have shown in your gaze and facial expression, earning a chuckle. “They’re going away for a long time, (Y/n).”

Horror filled you. “W-what are you talking about? Is this about earlier? It was all my fault that it happened!” Panic filled you when catching a glimpse from over his shoulder of flickering lights illuminating the place that had been your former home. “Take me back! I have to fix this!”

His hold tightened upon you. “It was never your mess to fix.”

“B-but I have to do something!”

“No you don’t.” The sternness within his tone instantly shut you up. A sigh sounded from the pro hero as his walking paused, the hospital no more than a few yards away. His gaze bore into your own with sincerity intermixed with growing anger. “They were running illegal operations within your residence. Counterfeit currency was traced back to them finding the materials within the place and when they overheard your exchange earlier they were capable of matching their audio to that of a villain who’d been known of targeting places of value.” He took a deep through his nose. “Didn’t it seem odd that they found you work at a jewelry parlor then convinced you to leave the little bookshop for work at a major retailer warehouse? You loved that place yet you seemed to happily give it up when they found you the other job. Then they pressured you to take on another job at the worst rated sports outlet in the entire city. None of that seemed odd to you?”

The flesh of your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “I-I just…they said…I only…” Tears burned the backs of your eyes as the words you wanted to speak rose to knot on your tongue. “T-they said they loved me…I just wanted to make them happy…I thought that what we had was love…”

His head lightly rested against your own when you choked, gaze never leaving yours despite you attempting to look anywhere else but at him. There was a gentleness that you weren’t familiar with within those eyes of his, such warmth that it made your being rise in temperature, and they way he whispered your name made your heart clench. “Maybe in their twisted sick way it was,” he whispered as you broke into body wrenching sobs, “but you don’t deserve that kind.”

“It’s what I’m worth—”

“Don’t!” The sudden rise in volume of his voice startled you, causing your head that had hung to snap upwards as his features twisted with anger. “You should be with someone who will laugh and cry with you, someone who’ll drop everything when you need anything, a person who supports your wants or dreams. No one should nitpick the things you unconsciously do because those little things are what make you you. You’re priceless, (Y/n), and you’ll know love when it presents itself to you. Until then, don’t settle for anything less.”

Maybe it was the passing cars or changing traffic lights, but was there a blush in his cheeks as he began walking.

By your side he stayed during the hospital registration and closely followed the nurses when they wheeled you into a room to be checked out. It was found that you were severely malnourished from how much you’d been working yourself. Only with a sedative did you manage to find slumber that night. When you woke, the jacket you’d returned was at the foot of your bed with the single note that you should wear it once being discharged and he would treat you to lunch. For the first time in a very long time a genuine smile raised your lips when a news report on the television began talking about how a certain pro hero had been seen leaving the hospital earlier.

[myers-meadow]

A little goes a long way (House of 1000 Corpses)

Title: A little goes a long way.

Summary: This is my second chapter in the House of 1000 Corpses AU shared with @immortal-velociraptor and @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better. Blinky is Fang's OC. In this one, Doe Eyes finds her footing in the family a little, relationships are formed and she is left with enough to think about as time moves forward. First person POV following Manon "Doe Eyes", my OC.

My first piece of writing in this AU is here. Immortal-velociraptor has done quite a few more about Blinky and their family life, and they are the most wonderful pieces - I hope I did it all justice.

Warnings: none.

Hope you enjoy! <3

Dividers by calanthesfeuillemort and firefly-graphics.

After I was spared, owing my life to Blinky’s kindness and grace, the tension was not yet resolved. All members of the family, except Blinky, tested where my weaknesses laid in their own specifically torturous ways.

Mrs. Firefly made me clean, which was a relief. To busy the hands is to quiet the mind, as my grandmother used to say. While doing one task or the other, Baby would come in, spill a bowl of cereal, or put her dirty plate on top of the clean pile, and say, ‘You wouldn’t mind cleaning this up for me, would you sweetie?’ Her giggle resounding in my ears as she walked away.

Captain Spaulding, who was mostly fine, unconcerned with the pecking order unless when challenged, but had fun making me believe I’d committed a terrible slight against him anytime we talked – then laughed and backed off. Just joking. It made my heart beat terribly in my throat, fearing yet another fight Blinky would have to save me from. One day I’d learn how to deal with him, but goddess knows it's not gonna be anytime soon. Good thing he was away at the gas station most days.

Rufus, or RJ, who was, as his mama called him, ‘shy’, but would block my path any chance he got. Tiny was much the same; quiet, only poked me to see if I’d bite and losing interest when I didn’t. He felt that his basement girls were enough for him. Perhaps I wasn’t his type. He never understood me when I spoke, but I learned a few quick signs, of simple things, like ‘meal’, ‘mama’ and such.

Gramps, with his white hair, was a hothead, but yielded easily to any other. He kept to himself and to his favourite shows on the telly. Bringing him a beer was the least of my worries. He had the wildest stories about a ton of different things, but I never knew if I could believe any of them. I made the mistake of repeating one to Spaulding and Mrs. Firefly and they laughed at me for believing him, but then followed up with another story that sounded even less believable.

Besides the tension, there were the high notes, often involving Blinky – who was fun to be around. They let me stay in their room, where I slept on the bed when they weren’t sleeping. Their chaotic sleep schedule allowed me more rest than I had gotten in the weeks prior – but Baby had a habit of entering unannounced and jumping onto the bed to wake me. She never meant ill-intent as far as I could tell – just liked to play a little rougher.

The most glad was when I got my stuff back. They retrieved everything from the trunk of the car we came in; being surrounded by my own things was the greatest comfort. As the days were filled and I wore my own skirts and blouses again, the nights were spent with Blinky and Baby. They hung out together the most, listening to records, watching old movies on the telly, while I sat back and watched them do each other’s hair and make-up.

“Hey Doe Eyes, lighten up,” Baby laughed, sitting on Blinky’s bed, passing me the blunt that I immediately handed over to Blinky. I’d wanted to go to sleep an hour ago, but now that they were here, that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Yet, it was difficult to be annoyed when their giggles were so infectious and they were having a truly good time.

Trying to hide my awkwardness, I reached for the matches on the nightstand, struck one, “Like this?” and lit one of the unlit candles on the floor.

Blinky giggled, and Baby joined in, slapping me lightly on the knee. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“You have to come closer,” Blinky said, patting the spot next to them. Somehow, even after sharing the same room for several days now, it was uncomfortable to get too close. “or I can’t braid your hair.”

“Please be gentle,” I said, as I scooted closer. It was a mid-sized bed, but with all of us on it, it felt cramped. In an attempt to make the brushing to smoother, I finger-combed some of the worst knots out before Blinky could grab the brush.

“It’s silly to be so scared all the time, you know,” said Blinky, before starting on my hair. They were gentle, for as far as was possible when the tangles are unexpected. Gentler than my mother ever was. Baby cocked her head at us as Blinky braided down, a smile on her face that unsettled me.

“It looks good on you when it’s loose too, you should wear it down more often,” she then said, which was so unexpected it flustered me.

“You’re really pretty,” was all I could think of to say. “I could tell James was really into you. Before you killed him, I mean.”

She let out a hearty laugh. “Sure was, huh.” She reached over to hand Blinky a hair tie. It was a tighter braid than I usually make, but they probably wanted to do it really well. It was comfortable. “He wasn’t very nice to you, though.”

“He wasn’t the worst either,” I flatly responded. Not rude enough to earn getting tortured and killed, at least, is what I wanted to say.

“Nevermind that, how are things with Otis?” her tone was teasing and light, but I’d never dare mistake it for good intentions.

“With Otis?” I repeated.

“Yeah, silly,” Blinky gently pat my shoulder, “He’s not that mad at me, so he must be glad you’ve been staying.”

“I haven’t seen him much,” I said. “Other than during dinner.”

“Oooooh,” Baby drew out the sound as she took another drag, puffing smoke out that hung heavy in the air. I’d have to open a window before I sleep, or the smell will linger. “I’m sure that’ll change soon.”

“Why?”

She just shrugged. “I know my brother and I can tell he’s getting antsy. Little antsy-pants Otis. He gets like that, y’know. Yeah, see, Blinky knows. But it’s nothing bad, don’t worry your little head over it, Doe Eyes.”

Despite Baby telling me not to, I did, in fact, worry.

To keep my mind off of it, I asked Mrs. Firefly what needed to be done that day, she just said: “Aw honey, ain’t it already clean enough?” and that she was going into the town that day and was visiting neighbours.

After breakfast I baked simple cookies, stamped out by using a glass, for her to take with her. I left some on the nightstand for Blinky, to make sure they were safe from the other hungry mouths of the family. Since it had been a week or two since I changed the sheets, I started in the master bedroom, working my way to the other end of the hall. Blinky and Baby were still sleeping. Tiny slept in the basement, but they seemed to always take care of their own, so I was unsure whether or not I dared go down there and intrude.

Otis’ bedroom door was open though, the black marker paintings on the walls greeted me from afar. I’d familiarised myself with them enough to dream them up; the face next to the one with the cowboy hat, which was right by that spot that had two knives still stuck in the wall. The room was messy. The bed was undone, there was blood on the floor (some mine, some was already there). My palms itched.

The desk was strewn with books opened up on top of each other, one pile had sank sideways across the other piles of books, a few dirty plates and glassed standing on top of those.

I sighed. This was the one area of the house I didn’t clean. The one space I didn’t want to enter. But my need to be productive and prove my worth won, so I trudged down the stairs with heavy steps, to first get the supplies I needed and carry the dishes back to the kitchen.

My heart beat the whole time I was surrounded by those walls. With the windows open, it was a bit better, a bit less dizzying. First, dishes; then the desk pile; then the sheets.

A chuckle from the doorway. “Hey little lady,” his voice was smooth, almost pleasant. “It’s a surprise seein’ you here.”

Still shaking the duvet out from the cover, I turned around to face him, feeling like a kid caught entering her father’s study. “I’ll leave,” and I dropped the sheets, moving to go past him.

With an arm on the door frame, he blocked my path. It was less intimidating than I anticipated, similar things were a daily occurrence from several of the family members.

“Ah, so soon? Was thinking it’s nice to see you.” He sounded sarcastic. I debated whether I could duck under his arm, but feared he’d just grab me – preferred not to escalate this to something physical.

When I didn’t answer, he continued. “You don’t have to be scared anymore, Doe Eyes. Not after Blinky took you under their wing.” He chuckled. “You’re family now.”

He moved from his spot by the door and shut it resolutely behind him.

“Was thinking about you, you know, the past week’s been pretty rough.”

“Rough, how?” I echoed, reflexively.

“I’ve been blocked, mentally. It’s terrible, terrible,” He moved through the room with the gait of a panther, at ease, confident. “For a guy like to me to longer be able to do art? All sorts of things start going wrong. Remember how great it felt when I finished the big installation a few days after you arrived? Nothing like it. It's hard to do art when no one cares.”

“Blinky loves seeing what you make.”

He gave me a look intended to silence me. “You know what I mean. You know about art, youaren’t concerned with fakepleasantries.” He almost spat the words. That’s what our ‘good times’ were: him showing me his sculptures and paintings as I sat bound in the chair. After the first day, the fear numbed me, and I dared voice my opinions more and more, critiquing each piece relentlessly. It was genuine, but worded unkindly to get at him and piss him off – just to negate the powerlessness of my then-daily existence.

My brain ran a mile a minute to think of the quickest way to resolve this and to be able to leave. Clicking my tongue, I said: “Well, show me then. Show me what’s gone so bad.”

He raised his eyebrows just slightly, picking up on my annoyance. “No need to be so high-strung, missy, it’s just some art.”

I breathed in deep, trying to get myself under control. Just to make him believe it was all fine and I didn’t wanna tear the drawn-on wallpaper off the wall.

“Where’s my chair?” Otis said, shaking me from my thoughts, looking around his room.

“Oh, uh, I threw it out.” I grimaced, motioning to the open window.

He stepped over, leaned over his desk to see the chair, broken, laying in the grass outside. “I’m sorry – I just got so mad when I looked at it, and there’s still blood on the floor where I sat, and I hate looking at these walls but I know the drawings by heart now and-“

Otis grabbed my arms. “Hey, hey.” Like calming down a wild horse. “Focus on me.”

Odd-coloured amber eyes became the centre of my vision, the rest was fuzzy. Slowly there was his hair, the brown and red of his flannel, the wrinkles in his forehead. I breathed deep.

“Alright, little miss, let’s go to the kitchen, then.”

The statue stood on the kitchen table, made of clay. It was… an interesting little blob of materials.

“You intended to paint this?” I asked, breaking the silence. “It’s a little dull in grey.”

“Hated it so much that I decided it ain’t worth the paint.”

“Yeah, good call,” I said, before grabbing the statue. It made an underwhelming noise as I dropped it on the tiled ground, and stomped on it, not caring that the clay stuck to my socks a little. Then I picked it back up. “Think it’s best you just start over and repurpose the material.”

Otis raised his eyebrows at me, before picking sock fibers off of the chunk of clay. Not that it had much shape before anyway. “You could have just said so.”

“I’ll get you the bowl of water to soften it up again.”

Otis insisted I sat with him, on a new chair, in his room, back to the wall I used to face, and guided him as he reshaped the ugly clay blob.

“What were you going for with it?” I asked, although I immediately regretted speaking as it brought his eyes to mine. My heart skipped a beat each time I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of his gaze.

He hummed, took his time in answering, chipped a few pieces of clay away with one of the tools strewn around his desk. “Hmm, a siren. Or a ship made of feathers instead of wooden planks.”

“Will you paint it?”

He was quiet again for a while before answering. Art calmed him. “Colourful, blues and greens and purple hues.”

“If you add too much colour, you’ll distract from the texture of the scales and feathers.”

He didn’t respond, silence made the occasional crackle of a candle audible. The way the wool of my skirt rustled as I bounced my leg.

“Blinky’s been happier since they got you to stay,” he broke the silence, not looking up from his work in progress.

“That’s sweet of you to say. Blinky’s brilliant. I like them, something about them is very… disarming. They’re smart, funny, endearing. I feel like they never had a good big sister before – but perhaps I feel too responsible again.” I chatted idly, watching Otis’ hands as he worked. It was almost nice to watch such a brutal man in the middle of creating something pretty, it felt like sharing a secret – even though everyone knew about his art.

“Blinky has that effect on others, yeah.” Was that a smile tugging at the corner of his lips? “Bet Baby’s still having ‘er fun with you. Baby’s a bitch, but if she likes you, you’re good. She likes whoever Blinky likes. They been treatin’ you nice?”

“Both of them have a habit of waking me throughout the night, but it’s fine. Blinky never sleeps, don’t understand how they’re this energetic despite never sleeping. I keep forgetting to ask Mrs. Firefly if there’s a spare closet space or something somewhere. Perhaps I can put a mattress in there and have some restful nights.”

Otis looked up and put his sculpture down. “That’s nonsense. I have the old bed in here, used to be RJ until he grew like a bear.” He points over his shoulder to something I just then could see was a bed: a simple metal bedframe, brick red sheets on which piles and piles of junk laid. There were books, clothes, art supplies, chunks of clay or wood; and candles on top of each semi-steady stack of books. “I’d have to clean it up, of course.”

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. It seemed like an unusually kind thing of him to offer his space to me. Suspicious.

He shrugged. “Well, you’re not getting Mama’s extra closet space, she uses it for her robes, or Baby has it for her costumes, so it’s the best thing I can think of.”

“Alright, thanks.” It felt foreign to thank him. “I’ll discuss it with Blinky too, but I appreciate it.”

He laughed, stood up to make his way over to the spare bed, slapping me on the shoulder as he went. “What are you – a diplomat? Just do as you like, Blinky won’t mind as long as they still get you to themselves for some of the day.”

I stood up too. “It’s not Blinky I’m worried about.”

He raised his brow at me, still grinning. “Oh, me? You’re worried about sharing a room with me.” He seemed genuinely offended. What audacity!

“Don’t I have reason enough to be wary of you?”

“Not anymore, missy.”

With great annoyance, I noticed how much he was enjoying this conversation. Clenching my fists and letting long nails dig into my palms helped me keep my voice calm. “That old blood stain by the nightstand is mine. And so is that one by the door.”

He gave me a look as if to say ‘are you serious?’, and raised his voice: “you were the one who cut me first! You were trying to get away.”

“Oh, forget it,” I said, making move to leave. He spoke more, words reaching me before I could get to the door.

“You have a choice now, y’know, you can be difficult all you want to spite us, but it won’t make things better for you. Or you do what you can to help yourself out and make living here a little easier– starting with a good night’s sleep. Up to you.”

And I firmly shut the door behind me.