#i don’t have that much written on him! simple ass

[gingergari]

i found this sketch in a similar style to what i had drawn for the first two so you guys get a freebie!

ayata kamoto (下本彪多, kamoto ayata), seat 10 in class 2-b!

quirk: cat’s grace

ayata has claws strong enough to rip through metal! as a bonus, he has the innate ability to almost always land on his feet after a fall.

these are the main quirks, but the most obvious is his catlike appearance. his cat ears are his only set of ears and he can hear and smell to a similar degree to cats. ayata also has a tail not seen here.

(ayata’s hair/fur is white and his eyes are orange)

ayata is not a big fan of crowds but regardless wants to be a role model as a big brother and hero.

ayata has 5 younger siblings. his weak point is intelligence, ranking at 2/5 (D).

(submit a number from 1-30 to get a peek at a bnha oc!)

[kingofbodyrolls]

Jimin fic recs 2024 🥳

It’s Jimin’s birthday, and of course I haven’t forgotten! And even though I’m not doing my monthly rec lists anymore, I’d still love and hope to make recs on each member’s birthday at least 🫶

Therefore, I want to share my ultimate favorite Jimin stories that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024)💜 Have I recommended these before? Yes. But I will not stop screaming about these stories because they are so fucking amazing!! I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹🥳

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’, last years Jimin recs or  last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (💜) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 as a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ this is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves.

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💜

⭐Couchsurfer @heartbeatan [6K] // pjm x f.reader // s2l // 🥵🥰

📝 this was left intentionally blank 🫥

🗨️ omg this was so fucking good! First, really well written and the pacing was lovely, even though it’s short and one night they spend together 🥹 the build up of their tension and their chemistry was off the charts! So impeccably done! Fuck. I loved it ✨ it’s insane how good this story is and Jimin is just so sweet, romantic and nasty 🥵 I can’t tell you how turned on I got by the description of how Jimin handled OC, like damn 🥵 this is so fucking good, please don’t sleep on the this beauty 💖 Normally, I’m not one for one night stands, because I catch feelings for the characters, but this has a lovely ending that I loved - so fucking good! Lol. Can not stop screaming about this one. Please go read it, fuck. PLEASE 😌 ✨

⭐The Devil in His Details @johobi [9.2K] // pjm x f.reader // college!au // 🥵

📝 evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

🗨️ I am MIND BLOWN 🤯🥵 This is one of the dirtiest, filthiest fics I’ve EVER read. Like it’s in the top five, if not even top three! 🤤 It was fucking perfection, the writing, fucking amazing, the dynamic/tension between Jimin and OC—Fuck. GOLD. Abso-fucking-lutely one of the very best fanfics I’ve read ✨

⭐Go Go @inkjam-moon [9.2K]  // pjm x f.reader // best friend!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin’s been your best friend since you were little; but coming from a rich family he’s paid for everything, and he doesn’t realize that it hurts you when you can’t pay him back for all the presents and vacations. When he becomes CEO of his own successful company, it gets worse because he promised to always take care of you, but when secrets come out on the night of your graduation from university, will Jimin be able to keep his promise?

🗨️ this was so fucking sweet 🥹 💜 their friendship is so precious, and the way that they ended up waiting so many fucking years before telling each other about their feelings for each other 🥹 almost pulled them apart 😭 really beautiful ✨

⭐Oui @pixieknj [2.1K]  // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 almost getting caught with your boyfriend…

🗨️ this was so good! Short and sweet ✨

⭐Peaches and Cream @snackhobi [9.1k]  // pjm x f.reader // neighbor!au // 🥵

📝 you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

🗨️ I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO LOOK AT PEACHES THE SAME WAY AGAIN 🥵 Thank you very much, this was so fucking hot I think I’m malfunctioning. And now, I’ve time I’ll eat a peach, or watch other people eat peaches— I’ll forever think of this story 🥵✨

⭐Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt @dreamyjoons [14.2k]  // pjm x f.reader // e2l // 🥵

📝 another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

🗨️ JFHKJSFKSDJDH— This was so fucking hilarious 😂 The sexual tension between them was SO HIGH 🥵 and when they finally snapped, oh dear God, it was so good! And the whole shit concept, so hilarious and their banter 😂 AND THE SWEAT??? I’m weak okay!! So freaking good, I loved it so much and Namjoon and the rest of the gang were just priceless. Jin at the end had me laughing so hard 🤭

⭐Just a Taste @yoonieper [14.2k]  // pjm x f.reader // vampire!au, established relationship // 🥵🌩️😂

📝 they said having a relationship with a human wasn’t a good idea, but Jimin liked you too much to ever let that get in the way. Your relationship was beautiful, yes you didn’t know that small important detail about him being a bloodthirsty vampire, but he had it under control. That’s at least what he thought, he never would have predicted a drought….

🗨️ FUCK 😭 This was so fucking good I don’t even know where to begin??? The story in itself was so extremely good, whaaat. And Jimin was so nice, and their love for each other, so fucking pure 💜 This was an emotional rollercoaster and I fucking loved everything about it 😭 and the smut, God, it was so good— I don’t know what to say 😭 And then at the ending, the angst, fuck, I was so afraid if it was going to end just like that, but I was so glad that they found each other again 😭 This is a new favorite of mine, so good, it was slightly sad at times, like angsty, but the love that the have for each other, FUCK. So so fucking incredible 😭 Don’t mind all the crying, it’s happy tears, I promise 💖 Also, it’s mostly told in Jimin’s POV, which I just freaking love and it makes the story so good!!!

⭐High on Love @peachypinkygloss [6.4k]  // pjm x f.reader // established relationship, racer!jimin // 🥵

📝 Jimin has once again won a race and he takes you out on a ride for the night, taking dangerous but very exciting risks. He should have expected that the rush of adrenaline in your body always turns you into a horny mess.

🗨️ I am just BLOWN AWAY by the fic– holy molly, was it dirty? Yes! Needy? Yes! Cute? Yes! Oh and the car racing, love, love, love! Like, everything in this. And the smut 🥵🥵🥵 I mean, it was so dirt and needy (yes I know I’m using the same words, lol), but FUCK. Incredible! Another ont to add to my faves ✨ And a big bonus for the phone messages, because that was fucking hot too!!! 🥵

⭐The Ten Days of Ex-Mas: pt1 + pt2 @kpopfanfictrash [44.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // holiday!au, second chance!au, hockey!au, exes to loves // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling. Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

🗨️ okay. Okay. Okay. *deep calm breaths* —THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY GOOD, I truly don’t know where to begin! The plot? The hurt/anger? Their chemistry? Their sexiness? Fuck, like everything in this is making it a beautiful masterpiece 💖 I really love how each of them thinks about what happened with their relationship, are working to get better, though Jimin should have been honest about his intentions for the trip, everything was just so fucking amazing 😭 I really loved the aspect of self reflection, seeking therapy, working through it and all that— really payed of for the characters! Loved it, it was so good 💜

⭐The Pitfalls of Silk + drabble @ctrlhope [20k]  // pjm x f.reader // s2l, hybrid!au, soulmate!au // 🥰🥵😈🪄

📝 the winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. 

🗨️ I truly don’t know where to begin with this one— damn. It was so fucking amazing!! The world building and writing was perfect and the tension and how their relationship built over time too. Everything is just so exceptional!!! 👏 And the smut, holy shit— 🥵 I’m lost for words 😭 And their dialogues and thoughts, having both of the povs mixed together just made it so amazing 😭 I really loved it and this is another clear new one to add to my favorites 😭💖

⭐The Group Project @noona-la-la-la [8k]  // pjm x f.reader x kth // roommate!au + threesome // 🥵

📝 Jimin is jealous when his best friend and roommate, Taehyung, has a date with the girl Jimin has a crush on.

🗨️ fuck this was so GOOD!!!  Best friend Tae 💜 It was so freaking hot and sinful, like????? Jimin watching them, and then Tae just being best friend ever at the end 🥵 Also, the dialogues were so fucking good! I really loved everything in this 😭

⭐Just a Little Bit of Love (is all you really need) @gukyi [4.5k]  // pjm x f.reader // s2l, gymnastics/dancer!au // 🥰

📝 jimin’s something of a legend at gymnastics, but suddenly you walk in and turn his whole world upside down. quite literally, might i add. 

🗨️ this is so freaking cute and sweet 🤭🥹 It’s completely SFW, and so so good! 

⭐Cherry Blossoms @chateautae [12k]  // pjm x f.reader // magic!au, mentor!jimin // 🥰🥵🌩️🪄

📝 despising the lack of offensive capability to your lackluster powers, your father, the school’s chancellor, signs you up for lessons with the magic university’s top-rated guard, park jimin. known to be an intense, reserved man with ruthless skills in battle, you come to learn he not only goes hard in a fight, but goes hard in another ruthless form of art—fucking.

🗨️ omg 😭 perfection?? That is what this was! The story and plot is cool and cohesive, the dynamic between MC and Jimin, damn it was hot! She doesn’t really believe in herself, but he believes in her, and tries to get her to see her own potential 🥹🥹🥹🥹 Cute! But then it gets filthy! And hot! There’s rain!!!! There’s smut in the rain! What more can I ask for?? ✨ It was just amazing! I loved it! Also all the magic, MC’s ability and then Jimin’s magic! They’re almost a contrast to each other, which I also really like! This is hands down one of my all time favorites!!! 💜✨

⭐Blooming Days @bluekyun [15.3k] // pjm x f.reader // university!au, bf2l, pregnancy!au // 🥰🌩️🥵😂

📝 a typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever?

🗨️ ahhhh this was so cute, lovely, fluffy and funny! It was also sprinkled with a bit of angst that made me tear up and scared for a moment 🥺 but the ending was happy 🥰 I really loved it 💖

⭐Never Falling + Forever Falling + Free Falling @yoonia [21k + 30.5k + 22k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, workplace!au, assistant!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 for Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

🗨️ this has been on my trl for forever, and then, it was only a one-shot, so color me pleased and pleasantly surprised to find out that this is now a freaking trilogy 🤯✨ I loved everything in it, and it’s so fucking amazing— if you have not already read it, you are certainly missing out! This is definitely one of my all time favorites 💎

⭐Eldorado @smoochkooks [38k] // pjm x f.reader // gold diggers!au, e2l, slowburn, adventure!au // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 not all that glitters is gold but you, qualified gold digger, carrying on your back immense experience acquired all around the globe, came to the city of el paso del conte with one goal in your mind: to hit the jackpot of the eldorado of Texas. and nothing, no tragedies and adversities will stop you from pursuing it. but in every fairytale-like, too-good-to-be-true story, there’s a catch. this time, it comes in the name of park jimin, annoyingly handsome archeologist, your sworn enemy and biggest rival. 

🗨️ this has been on my trl list for some many fucking years 😭 well, I finally got to read it! And it was amazing, it was so fucking funny! Filled with witty banter, jokes and stereotypical jokes 😂 World building was so good too! And the smut? Fire 🥵 I really loved it 💖

This is my little corner with my own fics— I don’t write that much anymore (I prefer to read), but it would mean a lot to me if you checked out my work or read it. You don’t have to, it’s up to you of course 🥰

⭐Coming Home (series; completed) [44k] // pjm x f. reader // childhood bf2l, trauma/healing  // 🌩️🥵🥰😂👻😈

📝 when your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

🗨️ this is actually the first story I posted on my blog, and the first fanfic I managed to finish writing in ten fucking years. It will forever have a special place in my heart, but please be aware of the very triggering themes in it, okay?

⭐The Winter Collection (series; completed) [16.8k] // pjm x f. reader // e2l // 🥵😂

📝 you don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.

🗨️ this is a collection of one shots that is with the same couple in the same universe (which is a series 😝). It’s basically just a crack fic. 

⭐My Heart’s Home (series; completed) [237.6k] // pjm x f. reader // childhood bf2l, ranch!au, cowboy!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 you’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite?

🗨️ this is a very, very, very long story lol 😂 It is en extreme emotional roller-coaster, but it’s really worth it. It’s also inspired by the amazing show McLeod’s Daughters 🥰

⭐Last Night in Magic Shop [12.5k] // pjm x f. reader // s2l, one night stand, vampire!au  // 🥵🪄

📝 you find yourself down at the local club, Magic Shop, because your best friend feels like your lovelife is dry as ice. You did not plan on meeting a handsome stranger, who moves his body like an angel, but speaks like the devil. Feeling like he might match your nasty needs, you take him home, enjoying an unforgettable night filled with pleasure.

🗨️ my first vampire story! It’s just a silly thing. 

⭐Whalien52 [10.6k]  // pjm x f. reader // kittygang!jimin, apocalyptic, survival, dystopian // 🌩️🥵👻

📝 you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do? 

🗨️ this one is actually part of a Yoongi series, but this is a stand-alone one shot, but it’s within the same universe as ‘End of The World’.

I have a few more Jimin stories that I didn’t list here, but these are my faves. I have written for most of the other members too—you can check out my masterlist here [link] 💜

And as a something little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:

In Flagrante Delicto @hisunshiine

Off the Grid (series; completed) @xpeachesncream

Ho-Ho-Home (series; completed) @jjungkookislife

Fairytail @gukyi

Menace (series; completed) @eoieopda

The Misadventures List (series; ongoing/discontinued) @kimvvantae

All Fervent Manner @yoonia

Blue Kamikaze @gguksgalaxy

The Ocean @dovechim

Dreaded Neighbors (series; completed) @99liners

Happy birthday my soulmate, Park Jimin!!!! 🥳💜✨

[ickie]

♡ … TIO \ MV1 & CL16  …

pairing … max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc summary … you, max, n charles all get freaky... it really is just porn w no plot i cannot lie ... 1500+ words warnings … nsfw !!!!! pls only read if you're 18+. oral (m recieving), light spanking, dom/sub undertones, max gets off on others people pleasure hehe notes … this shit is so far from being proofread i am so sorry y'all... i feel like this is some of the worst smut i've ever written lowkey but it's okay, i just wanted to put out something that wasn't the story of us related ! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated & fill out this form to be added to my taglist ! much love <3

your hips swayed against the body behind you, sweat beading along your hairline as you moved to the beat of the song. head tilting onto the shoulder behind you, you placed a chaste kiss to charles’ jawline, grinning as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you more firmly against him. your eyes shut as you let him move your body, a wide smile taking over your features as you got lost in the pull that charles seemed to have on you.

as your eyes opened, they met ones with a piercing shade of blue holding something in them that you couldn’t quite read. “he’s looking, charlie.” you giggled, hoping the brunette was able to hear you over the sound of the music.

charles’ head tilted up, making eye contact with his rival turned friend, one of his eyebrows quirking up as they stared each other down. you watched the exchange, feeling the adrenaline begin to pool in the pit of your stomach. max stood up at the bar, swiftly moving himself between the sea of bodies that separated him from you and charles.

“hi, maxie…” you grinned as he finally made his way to the two of you, his expression remaining unreadable. “i missed you.” you hummed, your arms making their way over his shoulders as you pulled him closer, sandwiching yourself between the two males.

“is that so?” he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes locked on charles as they seemed to communicate without even speaking.

you hummed, pushing up on your tiptoes so you could place a kiss to the corner of his mouth, giggling as you finally got his attention on you. max moved out of your grasp while charles pulled away from you, causing a pout to take over your glossed lips. “i think it’s time to leave,” the monegasque said, one of his hands finding its way to the small of your back to push you along.

“i don’t want to-” you started, eyebrows furrowing before you saw the look the two were giving you, knowing that the three of you leaving wasn’t up for debate. you huffed before crossing your arms over your chest, eyes rolling as you moved with the two of them.

the car ride to charles’s apartment was tense, you have been delegated to the back seat as the two men sat in the front, barely acting like they knew you were there. but the moment the three of you were alone, it was a completely different scene.

before charles had even been able to shut the door, max pushed you up against the wall in the foyer, plush lips finding their home in your mouth. kissing max was addicting, the way he took the lead with one of his hands threaded in your hair to keep you where he wanted you – he kissed like it was the last thing he was going to do, and it kept you craving more. his free hand trailed to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hand as you gasped into the kiss. max pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip as he did.

your eyes met the dark green of charles’, clearly not having any complaints about watching the show that you and max had just happily put on for him. “bedroom?” it was a simple question, but you quickly obliged. you didn’t miss the way charles pulled max in for a quick kiss, causing you cheeks to heat up even more than they already were.

inside the bedroom, charles couldn’t keep his hands off of you. “let’s get this dress of, mon ange.” he hummed as he kissed down your neck, deft fingers pulling at the zipper of your dress. max helped push it down your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet.

you grinned as the two men looked at your naked body, trying to suppress a giggle at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments at all. “mon ange…” charles groaned, his head tilting back.

“dirty, dirty girl.” max shook his head, pushing you towards the bed while your cheeks flamed with heat.

with where you were on the bed, you got a prime seat watching the way charles and max worked together. their lips were entangled in a deep kiss, max’s hands working the buttons of charles’ shirt while charles palmed max through his jeans. you bit at your bottom lip, not wanting to interrupt what the two of them had going on.

the two parted so they could rid themselves of the rest of their clothes before beginning their descent on you. max pulled you towards the end of the bed, causing you to let out a little squeal. “on your hands and knees, schatz.” you followed the command with no pushback, your head towards to foot of the bed.

charles stepped in front of you, his hand working slowly over his dick before he tapped the tip against your lips. your lip parted, your eyes on his as he pushed his way into your mouth. at the same time, max moved onto the bed behind you before he landed a hard smack against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to jerk into charles’ dick.

a groan came from charles, his hand threading into your hair. he wasn’t pushing you, but the pressure of his hand was a nice presence to have. one of max’s fingers trailed down from the curve of your ass to your pussy, barely letting his finger ghost over your entrance before he came down on your clit, rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves.

you moaned onto charles causing him to buck forward, you pulled away with a gasp, tears pooling in your eyes as you looked up at him. “you’re doing so well for us, mon ange… always such a good girl, aren’t you?” one of his hands caressed your jaw before he stepped away, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

you felt the bed dip, your head turning behind you to look. charles was slotting himself behind you, two of his fingers spreading along your pussy. he groaned at the wetness that was gathered there, lifting his fingers up towards max who willingly took them in his mouth, sucking all of your wetness off of charles’ fingers. “always taste so good…” the dutchman groaned, one of his hands resting against the curve of your ass.

charles grabbed at your hips, pulling you towards the head of the bed so there was room for max to sit in front of you. “please, charlie… need you so bad,” you whined as he ran the tip of his dick along your folds, before he slowly pushed in.

your head hung between your shoulders, moaning at the stretch of him finally entering you. he moved slowly, letting you adjust the size of him before he fully bottomed out. a gasp passed your lips as you felt his hands grab at your stomach, pushing your body up so your back was to his chest – baring your front for max. the blonde’s lips were on yours almost instantly, charles’ fingers tweaking at your nipples while you and max continued to make out. he was breathing in all the moans and gasps you were letting out before he trailed the kisses down to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. you were almost positive you were going to have marks by the morning.

you took one of your shaking hands, spitting into your palm before you took max in your hand working your palm over the tip of his dick and then beginning to move your hand with the speed of charles’ thrusts. “i want you to feel good, too…” you gasped; your head knocking back against charles’ shoulder.

max groaned into the curve where your shoulder and neck met, his hips meeting your hand as your eyes screwed shut. “’m close, i’m going to-” your words were cut short by the feeling of fingers pressing circles over your clit, the feeling of tightness erupting in your belly as you let out a gasp, body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

charles quickly pulled out, as you felt the warmth of his cum spread across your lower back and ass while max came across your chest. since charles was no longer holding you up, you slumped forward against max, your head resting against his shoulder as you took in a couple of deep breaths, body still shaking with the aftereffects of your orgasm.

you could faintly feel charles move, hearing the ensuite light turning on and the sound of a sink running. he came back with a wet rag, wiping it along your back before him and max moved you to lay on your back. max wiped at your chest, pressing a light kiss to your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

“you did so good for us, liefje.” max murmured, moving your body so your head was resting against a pillow.

“max… if you don’t come and cuddle me right now,” you grumbled, smiling as you felt his body slot itself behind you.

charles came back into the room – when he left, you weren’t quite too sure – with a couple glasses of water before mumbling something about hating being the little spoon. a quiet giggle came from you before he entered the bed, your arm wrapping itself around his middle and pulling him closer. as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, you mumbled a quiet i love you, before doing the same with max – his kiss being put to his knuckles.

[nicka-nell]

omg ur taking requests!

can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)

Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭

Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.

Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.

Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹

And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader

Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

tw: mention of break-up

You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.

The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”

More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.

And then it happened…

You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...

“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.

Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 

>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<

It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.

Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.

Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.

You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”

Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.

Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.

Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.

Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.

He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.

You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...

As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”

Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.

Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.

But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.

Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.

You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.

Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.

So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 

But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.

And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.

Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…

Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…

Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 

Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 

That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?

But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.

“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.

But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.

“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.

“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.

“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.

”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.

“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.

“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.

You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.

“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”

tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood

You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.

But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.

You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.

At least for the first few years.

The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.

If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.

Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.

More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”

And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.

Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.

You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.

“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.

“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.

“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.

Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.

Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.

His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.

Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.

He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.

He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.

“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”

It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.

You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.

What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.

He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.

In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.

When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 

“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.

“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.

“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”

A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.

Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.

He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.

Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 

Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.

“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.

“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.

tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 

Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.

You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.

You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 

With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.

That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.

The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.

A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?

He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.

From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.

Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.

Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.

You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.

You thought…

When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.

Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 

“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 

His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 

The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.

Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.

“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.

Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.

So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.

He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.

Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.

“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.

Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.

He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.

Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.

But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.

“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.

“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.

Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.

Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.

Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.

You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.

He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.

This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.

His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.

Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.

“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.

You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.

Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.

“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.

I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.

Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”

You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.

There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?

You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.

Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.

“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.

“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”

Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 

“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.

[ffsjustletmesleep]

Silent Bonds: Chapter One.

(tysm to @kodaswrld for the cute dividers!)

Word Count: 2.5k

Daryl Dixon x Reader

(trying my best to be inclusive)

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of gore, fighting, nothing too serious for this chapter I’m 99% sure)

(I just wanna say thank you all so much for all the support, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of the series, I really liked this one! I’m aware I skipped some stuff, I was really tired writing this so I apologize if its not as good, this is my first written series)

When the world went to shit, you were in your apartment sleeping; yeah, you were asleep while the apocalypse was starting. How ironic, right? You woke up to the sounds of your neighbor screaming, only for you to run out and see his wife, dead but alive, eating him alive in the hallway of your apartment complex. What the fuck kind of nightmare were you in? Oh wait- you weren’t dreaming, this was real, and shit was just getting started.

Atlanta, Georgia. The hot air, the busy people, you didn’t hate it, nor did you love it; you grew up on the nice side of the city, at least. Decent people, you had a decent education, a few friends who didn't bother calling you back most of the time but that's alright. You had Daryl anyway. Who was Daryl? Your friend, well, that's what you thought of him to be anyway; the fucker wouldn’t even speak to you most of the time, but you knew the two of you were close without having to talk all the time; your actions proved enough throughout the years.

How did you meet Daryl? A pretty shitty memory, but him and his brother, Merle, beat the crap out of some boys who were bothering you after school; he didn’t go to your school, he was a little older, in fact, and he lived in the shittier side of the city. Simple as that, right? Wrong. Daryl Dixon was the most complicated, stubborn, and annoying person you’ve ever met. He’d take you with him on his hunting trips, but if you even breathed wrong, he’d leave your ass in the middle of nowhere. You had no idea why you were friends with this guy, but you couldn’t stay away from him.

That's why you’re out now, walking around the city you once called home; it looked like hell now, filled with the dead, blood, and guts, packed cars just left out in the open. You felt alone without him, which is why you were looking for him and praying for his safety in this world that it had become within mere hours.

You managed to make it out of the street and into the woods, trudging along the dirt's imaginary path, letting it take you wherever it felt like it. You walked up a hill, peering through the trees as you heard some people talking. Your eyes met a group of people near a quarry. Stepping out from behind the trees, you decided you would confront the group, making sure to slip your crossbow over your shoulder before approaching their camp.

“Uh..Hello?” you called out as their heads snapped in your direction. Your hand raised to shield your eyes from the sun, you looked at them and stopped in your tracks. “I don’t mean no harm; I’m just looking for someone—wondering if you’ve seen a..” you paused. Looking around, you saw a few kids, men and women, doing the laundry, talking.

“He’s a tall guy with a real pissy attitude and has a crossbow, like this one,” you continued as you gestured to the crossbow on your back. However, by the looks they were giving you, they had no clue who you were talking about.

After conversing with a few group members, you’d convinced them to let you stay and set up a tent near the others. Once you settled, you decided to rest for a while, sighing softly and sitting on your sleeping bag as you looked down at your crossbow, fiddling with the string before you laid down and decided to get some rest.

A few weeks passed as you got to know some more of the people in the group: Carol, Ed, and their daughter, Sophia; Lori and her husband, who had recently found his way to the camp with the help of Glenn; their son, Carl; and the rest of the group.

You enjoyed Glenn’s company and his jokes. He always shared his candy bars with you after dinner, which you appreciated. Carol was a sweet older woman who gave you some new clothes and taught you how to do the laundry in the water since there were no washing machines. Her daughter Sophia was the sweetest, always playing with your hair or following you around.

The same with Carl. When you weren't so busy, the three of you would play tag or hide-and-seek around the camp. You’d also help them with their school work so Lori and Carol didn't have to stop what they were doing.

You were folding your clothes in the RV once you finished with everyone else's before you heard Carl yelling for his mother, your head perking up as he sounded frightened. You grabbed your crossbow and rushed out of the RV, following behind Rick, Shane, Lori, Dale, and a few others before Carl came running and whining into his mother's arms. You let out a breath of relief as you saw that he was okay before bringing Lori and Carl back to the RV to calm down as the men dealt with the Geek situation.

Lori gave him some water and sat next to him as she rubbed his back, waiting for him to calm down. After making sure both of them were okay, you went back to folding your clothes. After a while, you heard Rick, Shane, and the rest coming back. You picked up your clothes and stepped out of the RV with a sigh, about to ask if they were alright before you heard a familiar voice.

“Merle! Get ya’ ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!” a man shouted, his voice all too familiar. Your eyes darted to the man as he set his stuff near the campfire. “Let's stew ‘em up,” he continued before turning around and walking to the RV, immediately noticing you as he stopped.

You felt the air leave your chest as you dropped your clothes on the plush grass beneath your feet, staring at the man while your eyes widened. Were you dreaming, or was he actually standing right in front of you?

“Daryl...?” you breathed out, and before you knew it, you pulled your crossbow off your shoulder and dropped it to the ground before rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. You let out a small breathy laugh as you hugged him tightly, taking in his familiar scent and warmth as you held him.

Daryl let out a small grunt as your body collided with his, his hands grasping your waist as he held you loosely. “Y/N?? The hell’re ya doin’ here..?” he spoke before letting go of you and stepping back to look at you, his hard expression never leaving your happy one. However, his eyes held a slight softness at the fact you were safe.

“I found this place while I was out looking for you- Daryl, oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay, you asshole, you had me worried!” you smacked his chest, which he immediately responded with a grunt.

“Damnit, woman, ya’ know I’m fine. I can take care of myself..” he grumbled before giving you one last glance and looking away with a scoff. “Where’s Merle? Tell ’em to get his stupid ass out ‘ere,” he muttered as he looked around.

“Merle?..what’re you talkin’ about, Daryl? He hasn't been here..” you asked, confused as you looked up at him. “I figured he’d be with you,” you continued.

Daryl looked at you quietly as you mentioned his brother wasn't here. Shane came up behind the two of you as he cleared his throat. “Daryl, there's something I gotta talk to you about,” he spoke as he rubbed his chin. “There was a problem in Altana.” He glanced at you before his eyes landed on Daryl.

Daryl kept quiet a moment longer as he looked around as everyone started staring at him, he was shifted on his feet. “Is he dead?” he asked, looking over at Shane, his eyebrows furrowing. Your hand came up to rest on his arm as you looked at Shane, worried.

Shane looked at him as he let out a small breath. “We’re not sure..” he muttered as he bit his lip. Daryl let out a small scoff as he grew irritated, quickly responding after Shane had finished.

“He either is or he ain't!” Daryl shrugged your hand away and took a few steps around Shane as he looked at him, his eyes narrowing. Rick stepped in as he spoke up. “There's no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” he walked up to Daryl as he looked at him.

“Who’re you?” Daryl scoffed as he turned to look at Rick, anger starting to show on his face as he stared at Rick, waiting for him to continue. Rick looked at Daryl, seeing the frustration on his face. “Rick Grimes,” he admitted.

“Rick Grimes, you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Daryl stepped closer to him. Rick spoke up before Daryl could continue. “Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof and hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there,” he confessed.

Daryl turned away and let out a small breath as he rubbed his nose. “Hol’ on, lem’me process this..” he turned back to face him before continuing. “You handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there!?” he shouted, stepping closer to Rick once more.

Rick kept quiet for a few moments before responding. “Yeah..” he muttered, looking away, his expression complex.

Your eyes widened at what you heard; they handcuffed Merle down with Geeks walking around?! You saw Daryl's face as his lips turned into an angry frown before he threw the squirrels off his back at Rick and darted at him, only to get tackled by Shane.

“Daryl!” you gasped as you stepped closer to them, rushing over to him and quickly helping him up; he pulled away and took out his knife before slashing it at Rick. Shane came up behind Daryl and put him in a chokehold. “You’d best let me go!” Daryl grunted as he breathed heavily into Shane’s arms. “Choke holdin’s Illegal!”

The three of them had a small discussion before Shane let go of Daryl. Once they had finished the discussion, Daryl almost choked up but held it back. Lori had practically told Rick that he was gonna show Daryl where they had handcuffed Merle, and Rick reluctantly agreed with his wife.

You grasped Daryl’s arms as they finished talking, looking up at him worried. “Daryl, are you okay?” you asked as he looked down at you annoyed and pent up. “Come on, just relax, okay? Rest for a bit before you go.” You ignored his scowl before picking up your clothes and your crossbow and pulling him along to your tent, sitting him inside as you put your stuff down.

Daryl sat quietly on your sleeping bag as he eyed the crossbow you had, frowning at the sight, though he calmed down. “You still have that thing?..” he asked with a mutter before picking it up and messing with it. You looked at him quietly before smiling. “Of course I do, Daryl. It's the only thing I thought I had left of you..” you sighed as you sat beside him.

Daryl looked over at you as he felt his ears turn red, quickly looking back at your crossbow with a slight grumble of something incoherent. The two of you sat in silence for a while, you lying back on your sleeping bag as he looked down at you. “I went lookin’ for you, ya know?” he muttered.

You looked up at him as your eyes widened, your face reddened as you smiled. “Really..? I couldn't find you anywhere, Daryl. I guess I still suck at the whole tracking thing..” you murmured with a small embarrassed laugh.

He let out a small grunt as he smiled slightly. “Yeah, hell, I made it to yer apartment, an’ it was trashed..thought somethin’ happened to ya’. Me n’ Merle looked everywhere for ya, Sunshine.” he admitted before looking away. You stared at him quietly, blushing even more as you huffed and looked up at the tent’s ceiling, you loved that nickname.

“I left as fast as I could..poor Mr. Shepherd was being eaten in the frickin hallway by his wife..I guess that's what he gets for having an affair..” you chuckled as you shook your head. Daryl snorted as he heard about your neighbor. Looking at you once more, biting his lip as if he struggled to say something. Finally, he let out a sigh and spoke. “M’ glad you’re okay..” he spoke softly, looking at you with a soft look he’d given you once or twice.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You opened your mouth to speak before you heard Rick calling for him. You both looked at each other for another moment before he got up and left your tent. You followed shortly after, grabbing your crossbow on the way out as you caught up to them.

“Wait! I’m coming with you guys!” you said as you pulled the strap over your head. Daryl looked back at you and let out a huff. “The hell you are, you ain't goin’ nowhere, Sunshine.” Daryl’s eyes narrowed at you as he spoke sternly.

“Daryl, you can't be serious-” You looked at him, shocked as you got cut off. “I am serious, yer stayin’ here. Where it's safe.” he pointed at the camp as he looked at you. You looked at him as you began to grow annoyed.

“The hell are you talkin’ about? I just got you back! And you're saying I’m supposed to stay here? What if you don’t come back? What am I supposed to do then?!” you shouted at him as you flailed your hands with a gesture of your own words.

“You don’t do nothin! You stay here, an’ ya’ wait for me to come back!” Daryl growled as he leaned closer. “I ain’t lettin’ ya get yerself killed out there, Y/N!” he continued before he turned around and walked away frustrated.

You watched him as he walked off, Rick and Glenn following behind him with T-Dog. Your heart beat heavily as you let out a frustrated scowl before retreating to your tent. This always happened with Daryl. You get along one minute, then you say something stupid, and he snaps at you and leaves you all angry. You hated it, but you knew he was right. You didn't have much experience out in this world like he did.

You lay in your tent as you stared at the ceiling, the frustration slowly leaving you as you grew tired. You missed him, you’d found him, and he was already gone again, but the smell of him still lingered in your tent as it slowly drifted you to sleep.

Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new series, Silent Bonds! I appreciate the love you all have given me, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm not used to writing anything longer than 1-2k, but I tried my best, I’ll try and make them longer as I go on! Thank you for all your love and support. I’m so happy to be making this for you guys!

>Chapter Two

———————

Tag list: @dixons-sunshine @missriddle03 (lmk if u wanna be added to the tag list 🫶🏻)

[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Part Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing ’s excellent Stranger Prompts challenge - thank you for this, friends!

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But how much has he changed?

Chapter summary: Some answers, more questions 😉

WC: ~8.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, series CW for eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut, post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes, emotional scenes, eventual friends-to-lovers, descriptions of minor injuries, food/eating, mentions of canon-typical torture/experiments.

A/N: This series contains a lot of themes and scenarios that I haven’t written for before, I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. Abundant thanks to @the-unforgivenn for beta-ing and playing The Thesaurus Game 😛 This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it or my general one just lemme know in a comment, ask or message, I’d love to have you on board 🙏💙

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You wake earlier than they do, shards of sunlight peeking through Steve’s pathetically thin and badly arranged curtains hitting you straight in the face.

You don’t move initially, enjoying the sound of both boys’ soft, rhythmic breaths, grateful they’ve both had the opportunity to rest and sleep.

You use this moment of stillness to allow the events of the previous night to filter through your consciousness. Eddie’s still here. He’s somewhat warmer than he was, and is still breathing. You’ll take all of those as a win.

His arm is still wrapped around your ribs, his chest against your back. During the night, one of his thighs has made its way between yours, and his hips are now pressed up against the swell of your ass.

You suppose that if you look at it objectively, he’s in a pretty good approximation of the Recovery Position. Good for him. Promoting healing, aiding recovery, and all that.

And you suppose that if you look at it subjectively, having the entire length of Eddie’s body squashed against the entire length of yours, and having his leg pressed against you just there, stirs feelings that are inappropriate for you to be having right now. Such as how much you’re enjoying it. How safe you feel. How much you wish there weren’t even these small, thin pieces of fabric separating you from him…

He snuffles behind you, groaning softly, and his arm contracts, pulling you even closer to him. You’d much prefer it was more than just the involuntary tensing of a waking man that’s causing him to do this, but push that thought to the back of your mind.

You slowly turn your head as far as you can, only able to see a little of him out of the corner of your eye. His hair is fuzzy as hell, but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

In what you hope is a soft and comforting voice, you ask,

“Morning, big guy. How’re you feeling?”

Eddie’s voice is cracked and broken, like he hasn’t used it in a while. It’s gravelly and low as he mumbles,

“Mmf. A little sore, but warm. God, it feels so good to be warm…”

His arm clenches around you again, and he pushes his face into the back of your neck.

Trying to cover an unbidden moan, and inject some levity, you reply,

“Well, thank goodness for that, otherwise all of mine and Steve’s efforts last night would’ve been for nothing.”

Eddie shifts, starting to get a sense of where he is and the situation he’s found himself in. It causes Steve to stir behind him and let out a little groan of his own, and you feel Eddie freeze.

Trying to calm him and keep this obviously bizarre situation simple and light, you mumble,

“Yeah, body heat seemed to be the best way to keep you warm. I don’t suppose waking up naked between me and Harrington was on your bucket list, right?”

Eddie’s cheeks don’t exactly flush (going from pale grey to pale pink far too much of a gradient to be entirely achievable right now), but you do notice a little warmth appear in them.

Eddie jests, at least you think he’s jesting, as his grip around you tightens again, stronger this time as his muscles wake up, and he chuckles lightly as he smooshes his face into your hair,

“Well, it's definitely not the worst place I’ve ever woken up.”

This rouses Steve enough that he’s now fully awake, and he seems to remember where he is too. He moves away from Eddie and sits up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Glancing over, he mumbles,

“Hey, man. So, there’s literally hundreds of things I wanna ask you right now, but I guess I’ll start with, uh, how are you?”

Steve’s face contorts with a mix of incredulity and embarrassment at the utter banality of the question he just asked.

Unfazed, Eddie replies,

“Honestly, dude? I’m not entirely sure…”

He tries to shift his legs to sit up, but realises how enmeshed they are with yours, and inadvertently pushes his thigh up even closer to you.

Steve continues, unable to stop himself.

“What happened? Where have you been? How did you even get here?”

Eddie lets out a long, low exhale.

Finally picking up on how tired Eddie still is, and how tangled your and Eddie’s limbs are, you guess Steve decides he doesn’t want to get into any of that right now and declares,

“Y’know what, I’m gonna go make coffee.”

He grabs some sweats and a crumpled tee, and heads out towards the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Fuck, this is awkward.

After a short pause, you mumble,

“Yeah, I suppose we should get up too. The kids are gonna be beside themselves, I’d prepare yourself for a barrage of questions if I were you.”

Exhaling, you somewhat reluctantly extricate yourself from Eddie’s embrace, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for the pile of clothes you’re grateful you had the foresight to put out last night.

Pulling on jeans, a worn t-shirt and a woollen jumper, you sit back down and turn to Eddie, who’s now leaning up against Steve’s battered headboard, sheets bunched around his waist.

You notice his eyes are still sunken and red-rimmed, but he’s lost some of the sallowness that he had last night, and his features are significantly more relaxed.

As he sits up you have the chance to observe his torso properly. He’s thinner, and much paler, than the boy you remember. The odd appearance of his musculature that you could see last night is still abundantly present.

And there are scars. Lots of scars. They vary in appearance and colour, rough slashes and violent starbursts, in silvery white, muted pinks and shades of angry purples and reds. Some look smooth and well-healed, whilst others are raised and jagged. Some transect the inked designs you came to know so well, and it looks like he might’ve lost a nipple.

Realising you’ve been staring, you tear your eyes away and move them instead to Eddie’s face. He looks terrified, like he’s worried you’re going to find him abhorrent and run away screaming.

He starts to reach for the covers, to cover himself, but you lunge forwards and grab one of his hands in yours. You don’t break his gaze as you tell him,

“It’s okay, Eddie. You don’t have to hide yourself from me.”

His face softens, but his eyebrows remain pinched and his lips are still pressed tightly together.

Finally looking down as you stroke over his hand with both of yours, you notice that the wounds that you bathed and tended to only a few hours ago are practically healed, only a few areas of redness remaining where there were bleeding gashes and scarlet grazes. Some have almost disappeared.

You decide not to focus on this and concentrate instead on the fact that your friend, your best friend, the one you all thought was dead, is back with you here, right now.

Grasping his hand in both of yours, you murmur,

“However it happened, it’s really, really good to have you back, you know.”

He smiles then, and although it reaches his eyes, it does little to lift the grey pallor of his face.

He brings his other hand over, and as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles he notices the ring on your thumb. He runs a pad over the contours of the skull.

“You- You kept this?”

“Of course! I wear it every day. It helps me remember my best friend.” Your voice gets quiet as you add, unsure whether you’re overstepping.

“It helps keep you close to me.”

You hold each other's gaze for a beat too long, and Eddie’s lips open as if he’s going to say something.

Before he has the chance, a ball of anxiety rises in your throat, and you decide you can’t take the risk of him… what?

Telling you you’re stupid? That it doesn’t mean anything? That he wants his ring back?

You know none of this sounds like anything Eddie would say, but in your fragile, exhausted state you need to protect yourself from the risk of emotional harm, no matter how small.

You remove your hand from his and bend to retrieve the clothes Steve left for him, reasoning with a small smile,

“We don’t want you getting cold again, right?”

Eddie starts to dress, grunting a little as his limbs start working again. He only has time to pull on the worn sweatshirt when the door bursts open and the kids rush in. Dustin first, swiftly followed by Mike and Lucas, whilst Will and Jane hang back in the doorway.

The three teens leap, grinning, onto Steve’s bed, whooping and hollering and rolling around. They’re full of questions and theories and tales of what they’ve been doing whilst he’s been gone, all talking over one another.

Whilst Eddie is smiling and laughing and you can tell he’s buoyed by their love and exuberance, you also know he still needs to recover from last night, let alone whatever else he might have been through these past few weeks. So after a few minutes you shoo them out, instructing them to go help Steve make breakfast.

Dustin’s the last to leave, pausing in the doorway as he turns back, running his hand down his cheek and saying, with an infinitely adoring expression on his face,

“I can’t believe you’re here, man. It’s so good to have you back.”

They share friendly smiles before Dustin turns on his heel and follows the others, his voice decreasing in volume as he heads down the hallway yelling,

“I’m on toast duty today! You guys ate all the good peanut butter last time…”

You both snicker at their antics, Eddie shaking his head a little.

You want to say more, but settle for,

“They missed you. We all did.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows and rolls his lips inwards into a tight-lipped smile, and you sense that he’s just as emotional as you all are.

He continues dressing, and you’re relieved the kids didn’t see Eddie’s scars, for all their sakes. You’re not sure whether they’re ready to revisit what happened in the Upside Down, and you don't want Eddie’s first day back with you all to involve him having to uncomfortably explain where they all came from.

He dons the rest of the unfamiliar clothing, and eventually stands, facing you. He spreads his arms wide and pulls a goofy face, raising his eyebrows high and flattening his mouth into a thin line, knowing how unlike ‘him’ he must look right now.

You never imagined you’d ever see your favourite black-loving metalhead in an oversized heather grey Hawkins Athletic sweatshirt, worn navy sweatpants and fluffy white sports socks, but needs must, and at least it’s all clean and he’s staying warm.

There’s a crash in the kitchen, startling both of you, but it prompts you to suggest,

“Come on, let’s go see what chaos those guys are causing.”

You direct him to the front of the house, and as Eddie shuffles into the kitchen all eyes turn to him. You see the kids take in his fluffy hair and new garb. He notices and, preemptively gesturing to himself and in a very close approximation of his Dungeon Master voice, says,

“If anyone says anything about this, I swear I will kill you. Got it?”

Mike and Lucas try to act like they weren’t even looking, and Dustin raises his hands in supplication. Jane laughs at the boys’ responses and Will smirks at the shenanigans, and you’re certain he and Eddie are going to get along just fine.

The kids have made everyone a simple breakfast of boiled eggs, toast and fresh oatmeal and they bring it to the large farmhouse-style table as everyone gets situated. Craving his proximity, you take the chair next to Eddie. Steve’s made a large pot of hot coffee, which is swiftly devoured by the four adults and almost instantly requires replenishment.

The kids want to fill Eddie in on, well, everything. Over breakfast there’s much chatter about what’s been happening in town, how the three of you ended up staying here, how kind and supportive Wayne and Owens have been, even a somewhat discombobulating discussion of what Eddie’s funeral was like. Plus there’s tales from the boys about D&D and stuff that’s important to the teens, most of which you zone out of.

Eddie is also properly introduced to the two he doesn’t know. He greets Will with a broad smile and claps both his hands around the boy’s slender one, a symbolic gesture full of characteristic Eddie warmth, welcoming another sheep even though this particular one has known the others for many years.

You don’t think anyone else notices, but you don’t miss the moment of extended eye contact and tiny nods that are exchanged between him and Jane, as they are introduced and shake hands.

Eddie seems to have a good appetite, devouring four warm, runny-yolked eggs, three slices of toast slathered with butter and jelly, and two large bowls of oatmeal with honey and syrup in rapid succession.

There’s some syrup on his chin when he’s finished. You want to clean it off with your thumb and suck it into your mouth, but you resist the urge.

The food cheers him, even seems to put a little colour in Eddie’s cheeks. Well, perhaps not colour exactly, but a move from grey to white is certainly progress. It’s hardly Cordon Bleu cuisine, but Eddie’s hoovered it up like it’s the best meal he’s ever had. You wonder what he’s been surviving on all this time to make such simple stuff seem so luxurious.

Coffee mugs are refreshed, the table is cleared, and there follows a semi-formal exchange of the personal items of Eddie’s that are in the cabin. Lucas returns his pocket knife, which Eddie thanks him for with a bro handshake and a half-hug, and Dustin gets down on one knee and presents him with his wallet chain on outstretched hands, as if he’s presenting a weapon or battle trophy to his commander. Eddie ruffles his hair and brings him in for a crushing bear hug.

Robin and Steve return his crucifix and boar’s head rings, which he dons, and you can’t help noticing that they’re slightly looser than they used to be. You’re grateful nobody questions why you don’t return the skull ring to him, or seems to notice the knowing glance and small smile that he gives you.

Dishes are cleaned and yet more coffee is brewed, and you head to the utility room to see how Eddie’s clothes are doing in the (noisy, and possibly unsafe) drier. As you return there’s a lull in the conversation.

Ever the direct one, Robin can’t stand the not knowing any longer, and as Steve pours the next round of coffees she blurts,

“So, what the fuck happened? We thought you were dead. You were dead. They fucking buried you!”

The kitchen falls silent for a moment, nobody sure how much Eddie wants to divulge or relive.

He wraps his palms around his steaming mug, and takes a long, slow, deep breath in and out before he starts talking.

“I don’t remember much after that night with the, uh, Demobats. I kinda remember being jostled into a van, or a military-type vehicle maybe? And tubes, bright lights, people shouting…

“The next thing I know, I’m in some kind of lab, a poky room with a tiny cot and metal furniture, and people coming in at all hours to prod at me and stick me with needles. They did all sorts of tests and injected me with shit, and they wouldn’t tell me what any of it was.

“I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that I can’t remember a lot of detail. It’s mostly just pain, agony, and being either chained or locked up. And screaming, so much screaming... Whether that was me or the others, I don’t know.”

You interject,

“There- There were others?”

He nods slowly.

“Yeah, definitely more than just me. I have no idea how many, who they were, what happened to them...”

His hands start trembling, and he lets go of the mug that’s started to shake in his grip, quickly putting his hands in his lap.

“I think the injections they were giving me were concoctions made from the… things they found… down there.

“Owens visited me a couple of times. He said he didn’t like what was being done to me but he wasn’t able to change anything. The last time I saw him he told me he was being transferred to a different site and didn’t think he’d be able to visit again, but he wanted me to know there was someone on his side.”

There’s a brief pause before he continues,

“The last, uhh, experiment was the worst-”

Eddie screws up his face and clenches his teeth at the memory, and balls up one fist, bringing it up to his pursed lips. He squeezes his eyes closed, and a tear appears at the corner of one eye.

You don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do, but you grab his other hand under the table, hoping it’ll give him comfort but fully expecting him to flinch away.

He doesn’t, and his hand clamps around yours in a fierce grip, almost crushing it.

Voice trembling and breaking, he continues.

“It was- Jesus H Christ- it was like liquid fucking fire. All I remember was feeling like they’d injected me with molten lava, and then there was so much shouting, and hands holding me down, and then everything went black...”

He pauses, and nobody else speaks.

Steve swallows, the tap drips into the sink and Robin’s rings clink softly against her coffee mug as she turns it anxiously.

“And then… And then the next thing I remember is coming to, and feeling cold, so- so fucking cold. And darkness, absolute darkness. And I was so scared, and I just started scraping and scratching at whatever was over me, and just kept scrabbling and digging until… there wasn’t anything over me anymore.”

You’re all stunned.

Someone says a quiet ‘fuck’, and you think you hear a sob, perhaps from Dustin.

Steve remains silent but runs a hand through his hair, palm coming to rest over his mouth, and Robin mutters a soft,

“Shit, Eddie.”

You all realise that Eddie wasn’t lying on a slab at all for these past two months, but was being experimented on, and it takes a long moment to sink in.

Eventually, Eddie says,

“Fuck. They really buried me, huh?”

To illustrate his point and as an attempt to inject some humour into the moment, he loosely combs his fingers through his fluffy locks and asks, “When I got here, did I have stuff in my hair?”

There are a few chuckles, and someone throws a balled up paper napkin at him.

There’s another short pause where nobody says anything, but then it’s like a dam breaks and everyone starts talking at once. Robin and Steve make comparisons with the Russians, the kids offer D&D analogies and half-baked scientific theories, and people ask Will and Jane what they think.

For the rest of the morning much discussion ensues, as well as the consumption of store-brand cookies and even more coffee, and you all try to fill in the blanks. Whilst some of the kids interject with ideas and suggestions, others sit quietly, mostly listening. You wonder quite how much secondhand trauma this is going to cause all of them.

As a group you eventually surmise that some shadowy branch of the military was battering Eddie and the others with all sorts of tests, and injecting them with unknown substances, goals unknown and refusing to tell anyone what they were.

Owens clearly never agreed with their approach, and it sounds like he tried to distance himself as much as possible.

The military finally took their experiments too far. Thinking they’d killed him, they eventually released Eddie’s body to his only family, Wayne, and allowed him to be buried.

Unbeknownst to them, their final experiment was the most successful, it just took longer to manifest than the others. Weeks, in fact. Just long enough for the scientists (if you could even call them that) to lose any expectation of a recovery, and for Owens and Wayne to organise a funeral.

Eddie had awoken, dazed, trapped and freezing and with no idea where he was, and had somehow managed to smash the lid of his coffin and scramble his way to the surface. On a rainy night, miles from anywhere.

Finally, Mike is the first to ask the question you think most of you have been contemplating.

“Dude, how did you even find us?”

At particularly painful points in his oration, Eddie has looked to you, seemingly finding comfort in your face, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he replies,

“Honestly? I don’t really know. I just had this… feeling… that I needed to come in this direction. And the closer I got, the more certain I was that this is where I’d find you.” Hurriedly, he looks around the rest of the group and adds, “Find you all.”

He carefully lays the hand not holding yours flat onto the table, and, eyes fixed on the faded floral tablecloth, he chokes back a sob as he asks a question that he’s clearly been holding back.

“Why didn’t anyone- Why didn’t you come find me?”

Robin grabs his hand across the table, wrapping it in both of hers, holding it tightly. There’s a beat of silence before she speaks.

“W-we didn’t know! They didn’t tell us anything about any lab. We thought you were dead. Eddie, that first night? They told us you’d died!”

Her voice cracks on the last word, and you see tears start to slowly run down her cheeks.

Eddie chokes, and his eyes lift to the ceiling.

Dustin’s the first to move as he scrapes his chair back and sprints around to Eddie, enveloping his shoulders and neck in a clumsy but aggressively enthusiastic hug as he mumbles into his friend’s shoulder,

“But you’re not dead. You’re not. You’re here, with us, now. You’re back, Eddie, you’re back...”

Lucas stands too, ruffling Eddie’s hair and half-hugging the top of his head with one arm, leaning his cheek against Eddie’s curls, and you lean into Eddie, placing your forehead against the side of his bicep.

Steve turns from where he’s been brewing even more coffee, and moves to place his hand on a patch of shoulder not covered by Dustin or Lucas, patting softly. As he turns back to the stove he comments,

“Yeah, man. D’you really think we wouldn’t’ve come got you? Fuck those guys and all their crappy experiments. No one does that to a member of The Party.”

You simultaneously feel Eddie’s grip on your hand tighten, and the rest of his body relax. Many of you are crying, the sleeves of Eddie’s sweater darkening in patches from the wet plops of Dustin’s tears.

Will and Jane are affected too, and you see their faces soften as they clasp each other's hands under the table.

Eddie’s breath deepens as he absorbs the love and affection of his friends. You guess he’s not used to this much positive attention, and has clearly received even less over the last few weeks.

You all sit in silence for a few long moments, allowing all this new information to sink in and emotions to settle.

Eventually the noise of the stove and the clattering of coffee supplies, together with a strong gust of wind and the increased pattering of leaves against the window, brings you all back to the room.

Eddie seems to have processed everything faster than the rest of you, his emotions shifting, and as Steve pours more coffee he becomes agitated, slamming his fists on the table, startling all of you with the ferocity of his movements.

You guess he’s angry not only at the testing he underwent, but that they lied to all of you, and let him feel hopeless, like nobody cared.

The kids move back as he stands and starts pacing, running his hands through his already-frizzy hair and shaking his head.

“FUCK! Those bastards! Not only did they use me as some kind of twisted lab rat, but they didn’t even tell you guys I was alive? And they let me think that none of you cared enough to come find me, visit me, get me out? GODDAMMIT!”

He slams a palm into the doorframe, and you all jump a little.

Turning back to the room, Eddie notices the effect he’s having on everyone, and, rubbing the back of his neck, says,

“I think I’m gonna go take a walk…”

He moves towards the back door, the expanse of the disused field behind the cabin seemingly the ideal place for him to get his head together.

But, spying the large axe leaning against the frame, he has a better idea.

“Hey, uh, do you guys have, like, logs ‘n’ shit that need chopping? I really need to, um, work through some stuff. Besides, it’s probably the least I can do, given how much heat and hot water I’ve already cost you all.”

He gives a sheepish snort and brings his hand to his face again.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Are you sure, Eddie? I mean, it’s been a stressful few days. Are you okay to be doing something so… physical?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m feeling a little… pent up. Could do with working some of it off, y’know?”

You nod, figuring all of you are going to need different ways to process this whole bizarre and unsettling situation.

Dustin and Mike find some old tan workboots in a closet, presumably left by the previous owner. They don’t fit perfectly, and it looks like something may have nested in one of them at some point, but they’ll do for now. Eddie pulls them on over his loaned sweats and socks, leaving them unlaced.

Robin offers him his leather jacket. She’s obviously had a go at cleaning off as much of the mud as she can, but you can all tell it’s never going to be quite the same. At least it’s dry now, and Eddie takes it gratefully.

He grabs the old axe and the small hatchet that you use to chop kindling, unlocks the back door and steps outside, closing it behind him.

Dustin wants to go out to him, but Robin grabs him and holds him in a tight hug, explaining that he needs some time to process stuff.

The others give him space, some staying at the kitchen table to process their thoughts, others retreating to the living room and diverting their thoughts with the crackling cartoons that break through the terrible TV signal.

You choose to keep an eye on Eddie, staying back a little from the back door so as not to alarm him, but keeping him within your eye line.

You see Eddie pace a little, muttering to himself, then he shakes his head as if to clear it.

He turns to the log pile and hefts the axe a couple of times, getting the feel of it. He lifts a couple of modestly sized logs onto the stump, wielding the axe above his head and splitting them easily. Almost… effortlessly.

He chops a few more, flinging them into a pile with ease, then moves to lift a few larger ones, breezing through them with the same ‘hot knife through butter’ nonchalance.

It’s the most physical activity you’ve ever seen him do, aside from lifting the odd amp or two, which always left him puffed out. But he’s sailing through the woodpile with barely any exertion.

You can see he’s still processing the contents of your morning, as his features screw up occasionally and grumbled words and what are probably profanities spill from his lips.

As he hefts the axe through the tough logs you can see his eyes are getting redder, and his skin appears paler. You can’t see his body, but the tendons on his hands and neck are popping starkly underneath his translucent skin. And, the wind has picked up considerably since he’s been outside, whipping loose leaves and twigs around the cabin just like it did last night.

Eventually, he starts on the biggest, gnarliest logs. The ones you guys would only attempt when you really, really needed the firewood.

You hear grunts, muffled by the back door, as he works the tougher wood.

The axe gets stuck partway through a particularly thick log, and with an animalistic grunt Eddie yanks the blade from it. Easily lifting the log in his arms, he notches his long fingers into the groove and, in a move that startles you, he rips it into two pieces with his bare hands.

By the back door you suppress a gasp, your hand flying across your mouth and your eyes going wide. You’re not sure whether you should go to him, try to comfort him, or leave him to work through this in whatever way he needs to.

You don’t get the chance to decide, as he finally gets to a particularly old and knotty log that none of you have been able to get anywhere close to splitting. As Eddie slams the axe down into it with a ferocity you didn’t think was possible, he gets it far further than any of you have so far, but again, the blade gets stuck.

The wind picks up even more, as Eddie picks up the axe, log attached, and heaves it around his head, sending it spinning across the back field as he lets out a loud, feral and painful-sounding yell.

Breathing deep for a couple of moments, he runs a hand down his face and begins to trudge across the bumpy earth to retrieve it, coping easily with the rough and uneven ground of the ploughed field and his ill-fitting boots. You can see he’s still yelling expletives and occasionally waving his arms and shouting up into the sky.

The distance that he’s managed to throw the axe is substantial enough that he shrinks in your field of vision by the time he reaches it. You can no longer make out his expression, but as he comes to a halt you do see him bend over and place his hands on his knees, watching his back heave as he takes a few more deep, steadying breaths.

He lifts the axe and heaves both it and the attached heavy log easily over his shoulder with one hand. You consider that you’ve never seen him lift anything with such ease, save maybe his leather jacket, flung over his back, dangling it from one finger on a hot day.

As he turns and starts making his way back to the house, you notice that the wind has started to die down and is whipping less of Eddie’s hair around his face, and leaves and twigs begin to fall to the ground.

You hadn’t realised Jane had come to join you at the back door. Despite not directly knowing Eddie before, she says, in her characteristically deadpan voice, “He is… different now. Isn’t he?”

You purse your lips and nod, quick and small, and find it remarkable that this seemingly awkward young woman, who’s endured so much at the hands of so many, has developed such insight and tenderness.

After removing the axe from the gnarly chunk of wood and placing it by the back door, Eddie spends a few minutes arranging the logs he’s split into neat piles beneath the small shelter. The skin around his eyes is less red now, and his general demeanour seems more relaxed, controlled. Perhaps this has helped after all.

He takes a couple of breaths and composes himself before he heads back towards the door, holding the axe in one hand and a stack of logs atop his other arm.

Bashful, and conscious that you’d rather he didn’t know that you’ve been watching him the entire time, you take a few steps backwards and make like you’re just now coming to the door, opening it for him with a broad smile and directing him to the place in the living room where you store the wood for the fire, thanking him for his efforts.

As he places the last of the wood and starts to take off his jacket, you notice that his hands are again torn and bloody, splinters sticking out every which way and an angry-looking blister on one palm.

You assume that he’s reopened his wounds from last night, but the positions and patterns don’t match up. Everything from last night has almost completely healed, and these are all new.

Regardless of the peculiarities, they need attention, so you instruct him,

“Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You send him to your bedroom as you grab some washcloths, a bowl of warm water and the first aid kit from the bathroom.

You sit him up against your headboard, setting up your supplies on the comforter. Figuring it’s the most practical position for you to be in, you straddle his knees and begin dabbing at his cut and splintered hands with antiseptic. Realising there’s too much debris in the way, and wincing at the sheer size and quantity of them, you grab some tweezers, removing the splinters of various sizes that have embedded into his fingers and palms.

As you swap back to using the wet cloths and begin cleaning the blood from his skin, you’re perhaps less surprised than you should be to find that the new injuries have already stopped bleeding, and some of the smaller ones even appear to be closing up, apparently heading the same way as the cuts on his face and feet from whatever happened last night.

You work quietly for a few moments before your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What was that? Outside, just now? You seem…”

“Different? Yeah, I know… Don’t ask me how it happened, but I feel different too. Stronger, faster…”

He glances at you through his bangs.

“Less in control…”

His brow is furrowed as he holds your gaze, and you guess he’s waiting for you to back off. You don’t.

“I guess they… changed me.”

You move to touch his chin gently with one hand, wanting to reassure him. You realise that by telling him this you’re going to reveal that you were watching him, but you forge ahead anyway.

“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend that whatever it is that I just saw wasn’t a little… unnerving. But I’ve never felt unsafe around you. Quite the opposite, in fact. And that hasn’t changed. I don’t think it ever will.”

He refuses to meet your gaze, and twists his battered hands together in his lap, seemingly fighting with himself.

“I should go. Leave you guys. You’re not safe with me here.”

A vice grip seizes your chest. All logic leaves you, and the only thing you can think about is never letting him go again.

“Eddie, no!”

“I don’t really know what their plan was, but I’m guessing they were trying to make me into a super soldier, or something. They’re not gonna stop. As soon as they find out what happened at the cemetery, they’re gonna try to find me. And if I could find you, they can find me.”

A ball of anxiety forms in you. You can’t let him go. You just can’t.

“I thought you were dead, we all did. I’ve only just found you again, after I thought I’d lost you forever. Please don’t say you’re going to leave?”

Your voice cracks and you swallow back a sob. You lurch forward and grip both of his hands with all the strength you have left, not caring that you’re getting his blood on you, and might even be hurting him.

If Eddie feels any pain, he doesn't flinch. But the sight of you falling to pieces in front of him, because of him, is apparently something he can’t bear.

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay tonight, at least. Then we’ll try to figure something out. Maybe contact Owens, see if he knows anything. Alright?”

He raises his head and looks into your eyes now, as you snuffle a little and manage a small smile. He’s yours for tonight, at least.

No, not exactly yours, you have to remind yourself. He’s safe, with all of you, for tonight, at least.

Something else decides to jostle for prominence in your mind, and you ask him, quietly,

“How did you find us? Really. How did you know where to go?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before shifting slightly, and he returns the grip on your hands.

You think you hear a little trepidation in his voice as he speaks.

“I don’t know if this is going to sound crazy, but… what doesn’t these days, right? It’s like- Even before… everything, it’s like every time I left you I left a part of my soul with you. And… it would stay with you all the time we were apart. And then whenever I was with you I’d find it again. That’s how I found you. It was like I was searching for a piece of myself, and somehow I just knew where to find it.”

He goes quiet, dropping his chin to his chest again.

His words play on a loop in your head. Even before… I left a part of my soul with you… and whenever I was with you I’d find it...

You shift forwards even more, closing the gap between you, and the movement makes you become acutely aware of your proximity. You become conscious of the feel of his firm thighs between yours, how good it feels. How, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, you wish there weren’t these thin pieces of fabric between you.

Something sparks in your chest: Could he feel the same way as you?

Your voice trembles as you practically beg him,

“I don't want you ever to leave, Eddie. I don’t want us to ever be apart, and always be there for each other. I don’t want you to ever be missing a part of your soul again. I want to be with you, always.”

Eddie huffs out a sob of his own, lifting your hands to his and nuzzling his face into your knuckles. He takes one and slowly turns his head until his round nose connects with your curled fingers. And then, ever so slowly, he connects his lips with the soft, sensitive skin on your palm.

Tentatively, he moves a little and purses them against the inside of your wrist, lightly pressing them there, inhaling deeply and his breath shuddering slightly as he inhales your scent.

You notice both of your breathing has quickened. You can feel Eddie’s as it passes over your skin, and you feel your heartbeat in your throat.

Eddie looks over at you. His body may have changed in myriad ways, but his eyes remain the same. They’re still the huge, beautiful, warm pools of cacao that have drawn you in since the moment you met. It’s the tether that makes you realise that no matter how else he might’ve changed, deep down he’s still Eddie. Your Eddie.

You move your other hand, gently taking his wrist, and move his free hand up to your face. You close your eyes as you softly kiss his palm, and then move his hand to cup your cheek.

Gently, almost imperceptibly, Eddie moves his thumb and touches it to the very corner of your mouth. You feel a heat in your belly and you turn your head towards it, skimming it over your lips.

Your eyes flick between his chocolate orbs as Eddie bends his thumb ever so slightly. The pad of it pulls at the plush of your lower lip a tiny amount, but it’s enough to create a gap.

Without thinking you start to open your jaw, and he begins to move forwards. As he pushes into your waiting mouth all you can think about is tasting him, and your tongue starts to move. Just as the tip of it is about to make contact with Eddie’s thumb, there’s a jarring yell.

“Hey, everybody! Grub’s up!”

You pull apart with a start, both inhaling sharply.

It’s Robin, calling from the kitchen. Of course you’re grateful that the mums never allow the kids to arrive empty handed, but a large part of you wishes that you and Eddie could’ve had just a little more time to explore… whatever this is.

You let out nervous chuckles as you smile softly at one another, and hold each other’s gaze for probably little longer than is strictly necessary before you gather up the medical supplies and you both stand.

You can’t help but take Eddie’s hand in yours as you pull him towards the kitchen, encouraging him to follow lest he misses out on the delicacy that is Dustin’s mom’s substantial contribution.

“C’mon, Claudia’s lasagnas are totally legendary. It may sound simple, but combined with Mrs Sinclair’s recipe for garlic bread, I promise you, you’re about to have a near-spiritual culinary experience.”

Still feeling the heat of what just occurred in your room you busy yourself with packing away the first aid kit, and then elect to sit across the table from Eddie. You convince yourself that you’re not avoiding him, simply allowing the kids the chance to get close to him for a little while.

As if reading your mind, Dustin immediately plants himself in the chair next to Eddie, swiftly followed by Mike on his other side. Lucas sits next to Dustin, and Will slides in next to Mike. They chatter excitedly about campaigns and creatures and characters, and to see Eddie flanked by his adoring sheep brings a different kind of warmth to your chest.

The conversation remains light over dinner. Jokes are cracked, teasing occurs, and you’re pleased everyone’s getting a break from the tension and horrors.

The culinary delights are as good as you’d promised, and Eddie hums and moans at the delicious bounty before him. He remains pale, but he’s definitely regained some strength, vigour.

He glances over at you after taking an especially large mouthful of the meaty dish, and after you stop giggling at his uncouth antics he grins at you, tomato sauce staining his lips and the sides of his mouth, confirming,

“You’re right, this is goddamn heavenly!”

At another point he takes a particularly large bite of some soaked bread, and herb-flecked garlic butter oozes all over his thumb. Your eyes are drawn to it as he brings it to his mouth and presses it between his plump lips, and your eyes connect across the table as he sucks it off, twisting the digit and temporarily giving himself the most salacious pout. He spots you looking, and leaves his thumb in his mouth for what you consider is altogether too long before pulling it out with a pop. You gulp audibly and shift in your seat, grateful for the general clamour disguising your arousal.

You haven’t discussed as a group whether or where Eddie’s going to stay, though it seems to be unspoken between all of you that of course he’s going to remain here until you can all figure out what to do next. You decide not to raise the earlier conversation you had about him possibly leaving.

Dustin’s the first to broach the subject, asking,

“So, where’re you sleeping tonight, Eddie? You wanna come bunk with us in the warmest room in the house?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to extol the virtues of the open fire. His excitement is palpable, and you envy the optimism of youth that can make even the least appealing flat surfaces sound like an enticing bedspace.

You interject on Eddie’s behalf, suggesting,

“Hey guys, I know it would be the coolest sleepover ever, but I think Eddie might’ve earned the luxury of an actual bedroom after what he’s been through recently, don’t you think?”

Dustin looks crestfallen, but recovers quickly, agreeing with an only slightly pouty,

“I suppoooooose…”

Without looking at the others, you turn to Eddie and proffer,

“You’ll stay in my room, right?”

Eddie nods, his curls bouncing, as he agrees, perhaps a little too quickly,

“Of course, yep, that sounds… entirely fine.”

You miss how Robin and Steve glance at each other, Steve raising an eyebrow as Robin smirks at him.

There’s a quick clean up as dishes are done and pans are left to soak. Craving normalcy, you pile into the small living room and manage to make it through about two thirds of another of Keith’s loaned films before blinks get longer, eyes start to close and heads start to loll.

Robin chivvies the teens to get their sleeping bags set up, and there’s the typical grousing and bickering as everyone tries to use the bathroom at the same time. You think at one point three of the boys are trying to use the sink simultaneously, jostling each other and spitting far too enthusiastically in an effort to spray their compatriots. It’s a small nugget of frivolity that makes you consider the possibility that you might just all be okay.

Steve moves the small electric heater from his room back to yours, and you retrieve Eddie’s clothes from the drier. He slips into his Hellfire shirt and clean boxers as you change into your Garfield nightshirt, and then starts to grab blankets from beside you.

Confused, you question,

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh, uh… I just thought I’d sleep on the floor, y’know, give you the bed.”

You’re aghast.

“Don't be silly, Eddie. There’s plenty of room. Sleep up here, please? I mean, it’s not like we never have before. All those nights in the trailer when I got too baked to make it home, or you got too baked to drive me, or both…”

You both chuckle at the fond memory. You wonder whether you’ll ever let on that sometimes you were faking it, or deliberately took too many drags from the last blunt, just so you could spend the night with him, in his bed.

He throws the blankets back over and, smiling, climbs in beside you.

Turning off your bedside light, the room becomes bathed in the low, pale blue glow of the moonlight.

You both lie on your backs, staring at the ceiling. Somehow it’s easier to talk like this.

Thumbing the skull ring on your hand, you want to talk about the… other thing that happened, but have no idea how to bring it up.

As you’re ruminating, Eddie beats you to it.

“I hope it wasn’t weird? Earlier, I mean. It was…”

Your thighs clench a minuscule amount as you recall the feel of him between them, and the lightest brush of your lips on various parts of each other, and you finish his sentence for him.

“Nice. It was nice.”

Shit. It was so much more than nice, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, or anything. I guess I’m just a little touch-starved, y’know…?”

“I don’t. Honestly, I’m just glad to be close to you again. And if I made you feel uncomfortable then I’m really sorry…”

You can tell by the minor shifts in the covers and from his general demeanour that Eddie’s fidgeting with his hands.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

There’s another pause, and Eddie huffs out another small breath before he continues,

“Listen, I know the past twenty-four hours has basically been weirdness personified, and I don’t want to make it even weirder, but…can I… maybe… hold you?”

“I think weird is probably the understatement of the century, but it’s okay. And… I think I’d like that.”

You shift closer to one another under the covers, and you turn onto your side as Eddie moves himself to spoon behind you in an echo of your position last night.

He tentatively drapes his arm over you. He feels warmer than when you last did this, and more relaxed, and you press slightly backwards towards him as much as you dare, letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh.

You take Eddie’s hand in yours, threading your fingers with his, running yours over and between his digits and turning his forelimb this way and that. He hums into your hair and lets you move his arm however you like.

But you stop when you glance down in the dim light and spot a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist that you’ve not seen before. It’s definitely new. You know this because you’ve spent hours tracing over every inch of his inked skin, fantasising about following the images with more than just your eyes, imagining using your fingers, your hands, your lips, your tongue…

But this one’s not like any of his others. This one is small and simple, and looks like the outlines of two soft-cornered rectangles with a blocky W between them. It takes you a moment to process what you’re looking at, realising it looks a lot like one you’ve seen before. She’s had it covered with a delicate floral design (having connections in government really can get you anything, including underage ink), but you remember what it looked like.

Jane’s was a rectangle stacked on top of two horizontal lines, but when you looked at it from a different angle it became numbers: 011.

Looking at Eddie’s, you move the position of his arm. It turns the image a little, suddenly giving it more meaning, as you see it depicts a different number: 030.

Quietly, you croak,

“Eddie, what’s thi-?”

You don’t have a chance to process what any of it could mean as Eddie suddenly tenses, his head lifted from the pillows and his face flicking towards the window and back to you.

His brow furrows as he murmurs,

“Do you hear that?”

You strain your ears and hear nothing at first. But then, gradually, and from far away, you hear the disturbingly familiar sounds of flapping, shuffling and screeching.

Goosebumps appear on your arms and the back of your neck as you abruptly recall the only things you know of that make sounds like these:

Creatures from the Upside Down…

Prev: Prologue Part One

Series masterlist

My masterlist

Thanks so much for reading!

I really hope you enjoyed this part. The next one will probably be the last, and the taglist is open (as is my general one), just say the word, friend 🙂

Comments and reblogs mean the world to me - please let me know what you think!

A/N 2: Did anyone spot the LOTR, Captain America and/or Make Up references? 🧝‍♂️🪓👍 (Also, completely by accident, AQPDO too 😜, and ETA: this and THIS 🫠)

Taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @ali-r3n @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @jasminelafleur @corrodedcoffincumslut @kthomps914 @iletmytittiestitty-russ @findmeincorneliastreet @tlclick73 @sapphire4082 @razzeith @cupid-club @storiesbyrhi @eris-rose-86 @micheledawn1975 @bl0ssomanddie @veemoon @sunshinepeachx @writinginthetwilight @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @idkitsem @em0220 @kookygranger @fanfics-i-find-here @the-unforgivenn @b3lladoonna @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @amandahobblepot @daisy-munson @sheneedsrocknroll92 @maedesculpaeusoubi @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @kellsck @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @babydollface1165

(I’m getting a bit tangled up with my taglists so I hope nobody’s mortally offended if I either have or haven’t included them!)

[sun-flower-children]

Kirishima, Bakugo + Sero with a really rich S/O

A/N: Thanks for sending in a prompt! I added Sero bc im a simp  because he would be fun to write in this context as well!! I hope you ( the reader ) are also doing well!

Sero Hanta

- He makes it pretty clear early on that he doesn’t like you for your money and doesn’t want you to spend more money than needed on him.

- You will give him little gifts randomly which he loves no matter how much he protests that he doesn’t want you buying stuff for him.

- Sero treasures those little trinkets that you give him; probably has a self dedicated to your guys pictures and the lil gifts.

- !! matching fits !!

- This dude has style, he has taste, Sero is by no means a style disaster

- His style is more street style; might flirt a bit with the tech wear style.

- Matching t-shirts, maybe overall aesthetics

- One thing you do for him is help him with his phone.

- I headcanon that this dude probably drops his phone

Kirishima Eijiro

- He thinks its super manly you want to buy and gift him things as a physical piece of proof of you feelings for him.

- He really likes your gifts and will give you kisses and hugs as a thank you, every single time.

- Probably prefers things that have a sentimental value to him or are part of some kind of inside joke y’all have

- !! promise rings !!

- He would wear his when he isn’t training but at some point he would attach it to a thin gold chain to match the simple gold promise ring you bought for him

- 100% has y’alls name written on the inside of the ring.

- when he misses you a lot he will hold the ring, rub the ring, maybe kiss it :’(

Bakugo Katsuki

- this lil bitch dresses really plainly despite having designer parents.

- He has taste and has a phenomenal style but doesn’t really dress up because he has other things to focus on.

 - He will totally be all like “ don’t buy shit for me dumb ass I don’t need to clutter my room with your bullshit.”

- Absolutely will send you posts of pricey fashion pieces that he likes; he will only say that he likes them and you will buy them is up to you or not.

 - Sometimes he will remind you that he likes you because you are the best

[irisintheafterglow]

but who wants to live forever, babe?

summary: you're too sweet for dabi.

wc: 1.45k

cw/tags: gn!reader but dabi calls them pretty, swearing, brief reference to blood and injury, pet names (doll, baby, pretty), dialogue driven, emotionally constipated touya todoroki

note: this is very shamelessly written because of hozier lol. hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

You were irritating, excessively irritating. 

You woke up too early to watch the sunrise and stayed out too late to see constellations. You lingered in flower shops to touch the prettiest blooms and gave the last of your coins to street musicians. You were the first to suggest the tastiest food around and always volunteered to pay for everyone’s meals, no matter how large the group. You were thoughtful, selfless, and frustratingly kind. He wouldn’t have as much of a problem with it if you weren’t the deadliest killer-for-hire in Musutafu’s criminal underground. 

“You’re too nice,” Dabi says one night after a period of calm silence following the chaos of him crashing through your window and bleeding all over your floor. You glance at him from your spot on the windowsill, peering carefully over the construction blueprints for the following day’s assignment. He sits up with a groan, his hand grabbing the the spot on his abdomen you’d stitched up a few hours prior. “It’s infuriating.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know,” you deadpan and he scoffs, wincing when pain shoots across his side. “Had it been anyone else who broke into my apartment, I’d have to deal with a fully dead body instead of a semi-dead one.” 

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues, straining his arm to grab the cup of water on the side table. Before he can get a good grip on it, you stand and snatch it from his fingers, holding it enticingly with a hand propped on your hip. “C’mon, doll. Now, you’re just being mean.”

“I’m being nicer than you are,” you counter with an iron grip around the cup. “Calling me infuriating after I just saved your barbecued ass from dying. Didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?”

“My mom didn’t teach me jack shit,” he reminds you, making another futile swipe for the water that you easily pull away. “What do you want me to do, take it back?” You shake your head with a tired sigh, finally handing him the cup. “I’m not taking it back,” he mumbles as you sit on the edge of the bed. Against his better judgment, he doesn’t immediately flinch away when you reach out to check his bandages, your fingers brushing delicately across his skin.  

“I know you aren’t,” you murmur absentmindedly. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask why?”

“Why should I? It’s not like you’re going to tell me why you hate me,” you concede and a muscle in his jaw tenses. 

“Stop being a brat and just ask.” You resist the urge to jab your pointer finger straight into his stab wound but settle for pulling back your hand from his body, leaving him craving your touch no matter how his logic told him to resist. He has half the mind to reach out and grab your hand, part of him ready to beg you to just stay with him. But, when his palm covers the top of your hand, it sits there awkwardly until he clenches it into a fist and pulls away. He tries another tactic. “Look, all I’m saying is you shouldn’t open your window for every stranger that crawls up your fire escape.” 

“But you’re not a stranger, as much as I wish you were one.” You return to your papers at the windowsill and he’s alone in the bed again. 

“You don’t mean that,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me you’re lying.” His voice is almost too quiet for you to hear it break. Almost. 

“No,” you admit. “Of course, I don’t mean it.” You were looking at him too softly, too tenderly. Taking him in, stitching him up, and letting him rest while you kept watch was infintely more than what he deserved, especially after banging on your window and immediately passing out when you opened it. “Tell me you don’t mean what you said.”

“I do, though.” You nod and he watches your walls go up in real-time, closing yourself up so his words, good or bad, can’t get through. A million thoughts of panic race through every nerve in his body and only one command makes its way through: Fix it. 

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Your blank expression becomes a frown and you look ready to kick him out onto the streets, or at least reopen his wound. “Let me explain first before you beat the shit out of me.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

“I think you’re too good for me,” he declares simply. He can’t see his truth make your heart stutter. “I think you’re too good for this life in general, and I think you should get out of it.” You scoff humorlessly, rolling your eyes to the side. 

“Because you hate me?”

“Because I don’t,” he corrects. You dare to meet his eye and feel your breath catch in your throat. His eyes are shining bluer than you’d ever seen them before, the scarce moonlight leaking through your window catching in his eyes just right. They’re scorching, hotter and more intense than anything his Quirk could create. “I should, but by some cruel twist of Fate, there are no words for how desperate I feel when I’m not with you, however much I despise that feeling.” In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t be able to waterboard this information out of him; yet here he was, bitterly lovesick and scowling as he told you that he’d rather burn alive than hate you. You fail to stifle a laugh and his scowl deepens. “You laughing at me?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you confess, standing to check his temperature with a hand on his forehead. It’s scathing hot and you suddenly notice the shivers he was trying to conceal. “You must be delirious if you’re admitting this all out loud, and you’re probably going to start burning up if you continue talking.” 

“I’m not delirious,” he grumbles. “And it’s normal for me to get like this when I… overdo it on missions.” Your mouth opens in understanding and he lets you touch his forehead once more to confirm the fever. “I figured you’d know this by now after all the times you’ve had to fix me.”

“Forgive me for thinking that you were becoming ill because you were forced to say one nice thing about me,” you say with a smirk, grabbing a small towel and heading to the bathroom. His voice calls after you while you turn on the cold water. 

“There you go again with your stupid sweet-talking sarcasm. You can at least acknowledge what I just confessed to you.” You chuckle again and re-approach him at the bed, draping the wet towel over his forehead and gently pushing him back onto the pillow. “You’re doing it again.” You make a split-second decision to mess with him, just for the hell of it. 

“Doing what, baby?” The petname disarms him and he blinks at you once, then twice before regaining consciousness. 

“Being too sweet for me,” he manages to force out and you let yourself smile at his obvious blush. You flip over the cloth to the cooler side and he sighs, closing his eyes in contentment. “You don’t do this with everyone, do you?”

“No, Touya,” you answer patiently and something in his chest tightens at the use of his true name. He’d forgotten he told you his true identity, most likely a result of a circumstance similar to the one you were in where he was too tired and weak to think clearly. “You are the only one I will take care of and allow to barge through my window at three in the morning. Not because I’m ‘too sweet,’ like you say, but because I care about you. Got it?”

“Mmm. Yeah,” he rasps. “Thanks, doll. You mind getting in here with me? I’ll sleep better if–”

“You don’t even need to ask,” you finish, slipping under the covers and settling against his chest. “Just stop being an asshole for a second.”

“Hey, careful on the–” 

“I’m aware of your wound, stupid,” you interject. “I’m the one who fixed it, remember?” 

“Right. Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, his lips brushing the top of your forehead. The tension in his body gradually dissipates the longer your skin is against his. “Can we sleep now?”

“If you shut up for long enough, yeah,” you joke and he lightly pinches your side. 

“I finally get in bed with you and you’re not so sweet anymore.” You snort against his chest. “What happened?” 

“I think we both have a lot to learn about each other. For now, please shut up and sleep.” 

“As you wish, pretty.”

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[draconicscreaming]

Lost Bet

Was losing a bet against Iharu so bad?

Notes: Suggestive. Been a while since I've written anything so apologies! Not proofread.

Pairings: Reader x Hoshina

“I am not wearing that.”

“Yes you are. You lost the bet. Either this or go streaking-”

“OK, OK FINE,” You bark out harshly, snatching the clothing item from Iharu’s grip. He grins, flashing that sharp toothed smile in a way that makes you want to smack it off his face. You shove it into your gym bag and grumble to yourself, turning to leave.

“Next workout session, you have to wear that. If ya don’t, I’ll think of something worse. Or, ya know, that streaking,” Iharu goads. You shoot him a look that does nothing but continue pulling that smile of his into something more cocky and smug. You don’t say another word as you stalk out of the room and to your quarters.

Note to self: Never make a bet with Iharu again.

—-

The following day you kept to your promise. As much as you wanted to break the arrangement, your pride wouldn’t let you do so. Or you just wanted that asshole to shut the fuck up. Though, your pride was going to get wounded one way or another, especially the looks that you were getting in the training room. Your cheeks burned, arms crossed over your chest with your back facing the far wall to keep your shame from becoming more apparent.

Iharu grinned at you from across the room and your frustration flared white hot in your chest again.

He had… Gifted you a new pair of workout shorts. One’s that fit nice and snug that help accentuate the curve of your ass and the width of your hips. You wondered how the hell that bastard knew your damn size. Pervert. They were black in color. Simple. Something you would’ve normally worn as a pair of training shorts. Except for one. Tiny. Little. Problem.

Plastered across your ass in bold, white letters read: Vice Captain’s.

Everyone you came across gave you a look, mixed between amused smirks or mild concern. You were lucky, so far, in not coming across the Vice Captain himself just yet. You hope that he’s busy with paperwork from the most recent Kaiju attack.

“Hey~ What’s wrong over there? You’ve been sitting in the corner this whole time,” Iharu calls, sauntering over with his arms crossed over his chest in a confident stride. “Why don’t ya come hit some dumbbells with me? Eh? Eh?” He leans forward and nudges your cheek, “If ya do that one little thing, you can go change out of those. Let you out of the punishment early.”

You glare at him, wishing the rage in your eyes could combust into flames on the spot. But the idea of running back to your room as quickly as possible after this was a very welcome idea. You slap his hand away and stalk past him without another word, Iharu trailing behind you still radiating that essence of Pure Bastard.

You grab a pair of dumbbells and take your place across from him, your rear still facing away from the door. Just in case. You can’t stand to keep looking at Iharu’s stupid expression anymore and opt to close your eyes, deciding that losing yourself in the workout would be a welcome reprieve from your embarrassment. Just this set and it’ll be all over.

Breathe. In and out. Curl. Uncurl. The repetition of the weights help ease some of your frustration and you shut everything else out to focus on the reps.

“Hey.” One. Two. Three.

“Hey, y/n” One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

“Y/n,” Iharu said again, finally slicing through your focus. Your eyes flash open and you drop the weights to your side, glaring at him.

“What!?,” you snap before you freeze suddenly. Now you know why Iharu’s gotten your attention. You see him in the corner of your eye and your head slowly turns to meet Vice Captain Hoshina’s eyes. His eyes. They’re open and boring straight into you, arms crossed and those scarlet orbs swimming with an emotion you can’t quite place. Does he look pissed? But how could he see? 

You’re facing- Oh shit. The mirror. You’re not facing a wall at all.  

Your cheeks grow red hot at this realization and you drop the weights, standing upright stiffly and giving him a salute. “Vice Captain Hoshina, I-”

“My office. Now,” he commands and turns from the training room and leaves. You couldn’t place his tone either and the feeling of dread crawls up your spine, cold and paralyzing. You stand there for what feels like a solid minute, before you reluctantly will your feet to move and follow after him.

You don’t look back at Iharu. You don’t give that bastard the satisfaction.

—

The door clicks behind you and you approach his desk. The Vice Captain is sitting in his chair, papers in his hand and his attention is fixed on them. His eyes are closed this time. But you know better to assume that he’s actually reading whatever he has. He’s just waiting.

You stand before his desk and give another salute, throat dry, and your heart hammeriing wildly in your chest. You're dizzy from the stress of the situation. “Vice Captain. I’m sorry. I lost a bet and Iharu-,” you find yourself explaining, hurrying out your words before he could cut you off. Would he be less pissed at you?

Vice Captain Hoshina places the papers down on his desk in a measured movement, turning in his chair to face you fully. He meets your eyes and he… Smiles. You immediately blush and stiffen, overwhelmed by the expression. He didn’t look pissed at all. He looks pleased and when he shows that scarlet gaze again, it’s heated with something that sends a bolt of electricity straight through your body.

“Vice Captain’s, huh?,” He muses, stroking his chin and his gaze drops to glance down at your shorts. His other hand lifts and he swirls his index finger in a motion telling you to turn around. You blink at him. 

“Come on. Don’t be shy,” Hoshina says lowly, “I wanna see it properly.” 

You oblige him and slowly turn around and stop when you’re facing the opposite end of the office. Was this really happening? He.... he likes these shorts on you? The realization causes your heart to flutter and another dizzying feeling to wash over you. This time for a better reason.

You didn’t hear him get up from his desk. Not the squeak of his chair and not the light tapping of his boots against the floor, but he’s suddenly standing right behind you. You gasp when his hands rest on either side of your hips, giving them a light squeeze. His breath brushes against his your ear when he speaks, this time his words a little more husky, “I can make ya mine if ya want. Wear these shorts for me again, yeah?”

He presses his body against your back, his hands guiding your ass to press more flush against him. “Y-yes, Vice Captain,” you squeak out, earning you a rumbling chuckle from the man. Your head swims with the sudden turn of events. Not that you were upset. No. This was a dream come true.

Little did you know, Iharu was about to win another bet.

[justauthoring]

Shadow of Yourself [13/18]

Prompt: “You’ve changed, Eli. I barely even know who you are right now.”

A/N: WHEN I TELL YOU I AM SO EXCITED

Based off of: Cobra Kai 05x01, 05x02, 05x03 and 05x04 Warnings: some swear words (because tumblr apparently doesn’t like that), poorly written fight scenes (i swear, i struggle so much) Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x F!Reader

Tag List: @moonydrafts - @ashwhowrites - @traveleraroundsworld - @truly-abysmal - @likecherriesinthespring - @hollxe1 - @asonofpeter - @scarlett-verse - @musically-ambiguous - @kayda1 - @moon-zoons - @dwcode - @day-dreamsinthedark - @leilani788 - @silvermagnolias - @hawkinsavclub - @animewolflover278 - @gruffle1 - @b-tchymoon - @maggiecc - @beetea38 - @hawkinsavclub1983 - @crpytids - @embersparklz - @kimilight - @httpjiikook - @marauderssmut - @fyckcore - @multinci - @lqveabby - @oh-well-whatever-nevermind - @redskull199987 - @silvermagnolias - @shortneko - @okjaeminn - @thecyclonetragedy - @vamproq - @siriusfahey - @cobrakaigirlie - @kaylinfayezink - @oursuh - @aphroditelxver - @minl0u - @cherrywinepoison - @bath1lda - @fixalice - @fallsofserinity - @maisieibae - @ssrcsm​ - @notplutos - @kaitieskidmore1​ - @httpvomitello - @nichmeddar - @rafaelajonerr - @lazyneonrabbitt - @belleoftheball28 - @httpvomitello - @nichmeddar - @rafaeljonerr - @lazyneonrabbitt

IT'S NOT SO EASY:

“So…” 

“So…”

Pausing a moment, the both of your eyes meet, and after a beat of silence, laughter echoes.

“Remind me again why we’re being so awkward with each other?”

Across the table, Eli lets out another laugh, this time more light-hearted and a bit more relaxed as he takes in your grin and teasing expression. “Dunno,” he shrugs, but then, winces just faintly. “Maybe because this is our first real date…”

Your brows furrow, head tilting; “I mean, there was that—”

“No, no,” he hurriedly cuts in, waving his hands wildly before him. His face burns a little and his eyes avoid yours as he moves to explain; “we don’t talk about that first date. I was an ass. And I didn’t even try to think of doing something you’d like.”

Heart warming at his words, your cheeks warm as you move your gaze towards your lap, twiddling with your thumbs idly as you think back to that date. Eli definitely wasn’t wrong, and although you’d been about to deny his words originally, he seemed self aware of the fact enough for you to not have to say anything. Because at the end of the day, he was right—that first date hadn’t been anything like you’d once thought your first date with Eli would be like.

And that was, truly, the beginning of when everything went wrong.

Truth be told, you’re not all that interested in delving into that, especially not when it was so abundantly clear how far Eli had grown and how regretful he was of his past actions. Sure, maybe you were more lenient towards his past actions than you could be given how strong your feelings for Eli truly were but… but Eli had apologized. Not just to you but everyone he had harmed and he continuously tried to do right from his past.

That was more than enough for you.

So, with a simple nod, you brush off his words, sitting forward and towards him as you offer a small smile. “It’s in the past,” you assure with a simply shrug of your shoulders. “Besides, this isn’t about then, it’s about us now.” Reaching across the table, you take Eli’s hand in your own, feeling your heart flutter at the rather forward action but the second Eli moves to thread his fingers through your own in return, the worry dissipates. “And I’m glad you asked me out on this date today.”

Reassured at that, Eli’s grin practically beams. The confidence that Eli had found through everything radiates off of him but not in the way it had before – it’s positive, it’s kind and he makes you so unbelievably happy to see.

You loved the old Eli, but this Eli was refreshing and warming.

You relished in the change you never properly got to experience before. You never would’ve traded the only Eli for anything but you definitely could start to appreciate him now.

“I’m glad,” Eli nods. “Demetri said I should take you on one too, especially after everything… He proclaimed he was a master of ‘love’ nowadays and I best listen to his advice.” Eli rolls his eyes but the fond expression for his best friend is undeniable.

“I mean, he did manage to convince Yasmine, who hated us, to date him so…” You trail off at that, still finding the whole situation strange. You couldn’t deny that Demetri had always liked Yasmine, despite her previous behaviour and you also couldn’t deny that it seemed, now at least, Yasmine did truly return his feelings—still, it was odd for you despite everything. Even if you knew the girl was doing her best to make up for everything. 

“True,” Eli laughs. Then, he hesitates; “so, was he right then?”

Lips parting, you meet his eyes, watching as he gestures around him. You follow his gesture, taking another look at the cute little diner Eli had taken you to for lunch. It wasn’t really what you’d been expecting when he’d asked you out in the first place — having just assumed the two of you would get up to what you used to before Hawk and when you two were best friends. Maybe an arcade or the comic store. 

You knew Eli, now that he’d moved on from that, went back to a lot of his old interests while keeping some of the new. Demetri and you had spent a whole day catching Eli up on what he’d missed in regards to all your ‘nerdy’ things that bonded you guys together in the first place. So, you’d kind of just assumed that even though you guys were dating, that that would be much of the same.

Not to say you didn’t like where he had taken you – because you most definitely did. It was just so much more… intimate. Sure, that made sense because the two of you were dating but you hadn’t had the chance to make that step yet. Not completely. Sure, you’d kissed, held hands, that sort of thing and it wasn’t like this was either of yours first time together; that had been a regular thing even when you two were friends. You and Eli had always spent a lot of time together; separate or with Demetri.

But this? This was… closer. The aura of the fact that it was a date and pretty much your first date very much hung over the air and although the idea had you feeling giddy, it also had you feeling incredibly nervous.

How did you act? Should you act like you always did with Eli? Should you be… different?

It was already hard enough knowing what you were supposed to wear… that had been a whole ordeal of it’s own and if it hadn’t been for Moon and Sam you’re almost positive you would’ve had a panic attack before the date and that would’ve led to nothing but disaster.

The truth of the matter was you may have been the one to question yours and Eli’s awkwardness, trying to assure him that there was no reason to be awkward – when you very much felt like a bundle of nerves that made you stiff and tense and probably looking like a complete and total fool.

Realizing you’d spaced out and Eli was waiting, nervously, for an answer, you rush to answer.

“Uh, y-yes!” You practically squeak out and instantly, you feel your cheeks grow hot (rather than warm) and you panic (even more). “Yes, i’m-i’m sorry. I love this place and it’s so cute and, oh–um–” Meeting his concerned expression, you cave in on yourself. “Sorry,” you sigh, giving up, “I know I told you there was no reason to be but… I’m nervous.”

Eli squeezes your hand. “It’s okay,” he assures softly. “I still am too.”

Laughing lightly, you feel your body ease somewhat. “I guess… I just don’t know how I’m supposed to act… We jumped right into a relationship after everything and I feel like we never even repaired our friendship first—not completely at least.”

Something heartbroken crosses Eli’s expression and his grip on your hand wavers as he frowns. “Are you saying you just want to be friends?”

“What? No!” you exclaim, eyes widening as you realize how your words sounded. “No, no… not at all. I… I don’t want to be just friends. I spent years hiding my feelings for you and I don’t want to go back to acting like that. I just–Eli, I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” you confess, embarrassed at your own words. “Before everything, you and Demetri were the only two people I talked to. Everything is so different now. I mean… I actually have girls who want to be my friend.”

Eli smiles at that, admiring the genuine smile that unconsciously curls on your lips at that.

“It’s all just so different and I’m just afraid you’ll realize I’m not actually someone you want to be with.”

The smile instantly fades from Eli’s lips.

“Are you crazy?” He asks, eyes wide with disbelief.

You blink back at him. 

“Y/N,” he calls, expression morphing into something serious as he shakes his head at you. “I spent all those years hiding my feelings for you too, Y/N. And then when I finally told you, I went and screwed it all up. I know what I did was wrong and I know I broke your heart kissing Moon that night. And I know it wasn’t right or fair to you or Moon but the entire time I was with Moon–and after–all I thought about was you.”

Stunned by his confession, you just stare back at him, lips parted and unable to find the words.

“What I did wasn’t right and I’ll forever be sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t deserve you but you’ve been willing to give me a second–hell, third chance and I don’t want to mess it up. I won’t.” He promises, nodding to himself. “You don’t have to be anything and I don’t expect anything. We’ll take it at your pace and all you have to do is be yourself.”

His words wash a calm over you, the tensed muscles in your body instantly easing as you fall back into your chair. You gradually feel less self-conscious about yourself or the way you act, talk–anything. Eli’s words are genuine, you can hear the sincerity in them, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel all types of butterflies in your stomach; this time, though, they’re good.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course,” he says without hesitation. “This might be early and you don’t have to say it back, but, I love you. I have since that day you stood up for me from that asshole in middle school.”

Giggling at the thought you shake your head. “You know I love you too.”

Smiling, eyes twinkling, Eli nods. “Don’t be nervous, okay? I just want to spend time with you.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

-

“Desperate,” Yasmine laughs, reading the texts Miguel had just sent Sam. “But cute.”

You snort, “I can almost guarantee that Demetri and Eli are there with them.” All three girls look at you and you just shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “Miguel knows he’s in deep shit, Demetri probably told him to send you that.”

“Demetri?” Sam quirks a brow, doubting your words.

“He thinks he’s some sort of ‘love-genius’,” you make sure to add to your words with some air quotation marks. “Because of you, Yasmine.”

Although her cheeks flush, she doesn’t deny it. “He is,” and then at the looks she receives, she shrugs. “What? He is.”

Shaking her head, Sam pulls the focus back on what you’d all been called there for in the first place – her and Miguel. “I just feel like things have been off lately,” she explains, frowning. “There’s so much I wanna say. Maybe I should just… lay it all out?”

Without missing a beat, Yasmine reaches across the table to grab Sam’s phone. “No,” she squeaks, “no, less it more.”

“I’m with Yas,” Moon speaks up, nodding at Sam with a gentle expression. “It’s better to have these conversations in person.”

Sam looks at you, then. 

You shake your head; “I know it’d be easier over text but Miguel deserves to know exactly how you’re feeling. And he has to do the same for you.”

“Mm-hm,” Yasmine hums, finishing typing on Sam’s phone and holding it out towards her. “Keep it short, not sweet.”

Leaning over Sam’s shoulder, you read Yasmine’s text, wincing.

“‘I’m okay’,” Sam reads aloud. “Should I add a smiley face or something?”

“No!”

“Definitely!”

Both Yasmine and Moon look at each other.

“It’s up to you,” you offer, albeit maybe unhelpfully.

Huffing, you watch as Sam presses the send button – no emoji.

“Well,” Moon adds after a moment of tense silence. “Should we head over? Our appointment time is coming up.”

Just then, a ding comes from your phone. Setting your bag that you’d grabbed to leave down, you open your phone, smiling unconsciously when you notice the text is from Eli.

hey, got the tattoo covered up

There’s a pause, then another text;

i know you’re hanging out with moon and stuff today, but did you wanna see?

A second later, another final text follows;

i also wanna see you :)

Any futile thought of declining him quickly disappears once you read his final text. Fully still in the ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship and especially having worked out any weird kinks between the two of you during your last date, you were more than desperate to see Eli. You’d finally gotten him back and you wanted to see him as much as possible.

Turning to your friends, you hesitate.

They’re all standing, bags in hand and ready to leave, looking back at you expectantly. Sam raises a brow at the expression on your face.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry!” You cry, clasping your hands out before you, begging for your forgiveness. “I was gonna go but Eli got his new tattoo and he wants to—”

“Pssh,” Yasmine cuts in, waving her hand at you. “Just go. We all know how much the two of you are into each other.” Then, pausing, she glances at Moon. “I mean–”

Moon just laughs. “It’s fine. I’m happy for Eli and Y/N.” Then, turning to you, she grins wide, sending you a thumbs up. “Go see him. We have plans to hang all together at the new waterpark anyways.”

Easing a bit, you turn to Sam, hopeful.

She just shrugs. “Go have fun.”

Letting out a squeal of excitement, you jump to your feet, taking all three of them into your arms and squeezing them tightly. Sam leans into it while Moon just laughs, hugging you back with her one arm. Yamine, to the right of you, tenses, unsure of the action but when you let go and beam at her, she follows with a small smile of her own.

Things were still a little awkward between the two of you (naturally) but she was trying and how could not respect that considering everything?

“Thank you!” You say, waving at them as you hurriedly move to make your way out of the coffee shop.

“Well,” Sam says after watching you leave. “At least someone is having good luck in their relationship.”

“Me and Demetri are doing quite well, too, actually,” Yasmine offers.

Sam just glares at her.

-

“Give it.”

You stare at Moon. “I’d rather not.”

Hand still left out stretched, Moon just shakes her head with a reassuring smile. “Y/N. Come on.”

You eye her for a moment longer, before lowering your gaze towards your body. You glance at the baggy t-shirt you’d thrown on before leaving your house earlier, and frown. “I don’t wanna take it off,” you mumble. “I-It’s cold.”

“Cold?” Yasmine snorts, “really?”

Glaring at her, you scoff. “Yes.”

“Y/N,” Sam calls, glancing up from her book as she smiles at you. “It’s fine, come on. It’s a nice, warm summer day at the pool. Take off your shirt.”

Raising a brow, you gesture to her; “you’re still wearing yours.”

“It’s a tank,” she bluntly reminds. “Cropped.” 

You just frown back at her, fingers gripping your shirt tightly.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Moon speaks up, pulling your eyes back on her as she smiles brightly at you. “Just give me the shirt. No one here will judge you, I promise. Besides, you’re hot. And you should show it off.”

Hesitating at her words, you hug yourself; “I really doubt—”

“Oh my god! Y/N! Just take off your shirt!” Yasmine exclaims, obviously frustrated at your lack of compliance, hands falling by her sides in frustration as you glance back at her. Shaking her head at you, she shrugs. “Moon’s right, you’re hot. Why are you so worried about it?”

Giving her a dead-panned stare, you lean towards her. “Oh, I don’t know… could it be because of a certain somebody who bullied me for years about my appearance?”

Sure, Yasmine had changed. Sure, she was trying to be better. Didn’t mean her years of torment were forgotten.

Frustration wiping clean from her face, Yasmine frowns. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “oh.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, turning back to Moon.

“Give it.” 

Her hand stretches out towards you further and by the look on her face, you know there’s no arguing further.

So, ignoring the nerves bundling in your stomach, you reach for the hem of your shirt. It only takes one more glance at hers and Sam’s reassuring smile before you’re pulling the shirt up and over your head, reluctantly setting it in Moon’s awaiting hands so you can resist the urge to put it back on right away.

She grins, pleased, the second you give it to her, tucking it away beside her (on the opposite side of you) and nodding.

“See? Everything’s fine.” She gestures around to everyone that isn’t even glancing your way, completely in their own worlds. “Besides, we invited the boys, right? So… Eli’s coming.”

Flushing, you glance away from her, hugging your stomach to try and cover yourself; “I definitely don’t want him to see me.”

Yasmine scoffs at that, “please. Everyone can tell the boy is in love with you. I wouldn’t worry.”

And, you figure, in her own way, that’s Yasmine trying to reassure you.

“Yas is right, Y/N,” Moon nods eagerly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Inhaling deeply, you nod, trying to settle your nerves as you lean back against the beach chair. You force your arms to your sides, fighting the urge to cover yourself, and try to focus on the feeling of the warm sun hitting your skin. It wasn’t often you got to relax like this, and especially not with three girlfriends – you really should try to ignore it.

“Wait,” Sam speaks up a second later. “Boys?”

You and Moon glance at each other wide-eyed.

“Sorry, Sam… I totally forgot me and Y/N invited them…” Moon trails off, a guilty expression on her face as you both look at her.

Leaning over Moon’s shoulder to meet Sam’s eyes, you’re quick to add; “I can text Eli to not come if—”

“Hey, babe!”

You silently curse at the sound of Eli’s voice.

Nerves forgotten, you glance over your shoulder, seeing him and Miguel making their way over to the four of you, a bright grin on Eli’s face as he waves at you. Offering him a small wave back, you turn back to Sam; “seriously, I can—”

“It’s fine, really. I promise,” she reassures with a shake of her head. “I mean, this is gonna happen. And it’s alright. Miguel and I are still friends.”

You and Moon look apprehensive at her words, worried for her as you know she’d just broken things off with Miguel to focus on herself and you didn’t want to be the one who got in her way of her self-reflection journey. But before you can say more, a shadow falls next to your side and you’re glancing up to meet Eli who’s smiling brightly down at you.

“Hey,” he grins down at you, moving to take the empty seat next to you. Everything around you falls to the back of your mind as you unconsciously smile up at him, leaning forward to meet his lips before pulling back; 

“Hey,” you return, breathless. “I’m glad you came.”

Eli nods. “Me too,” settling back in his seat, his eyes glance downwards.

You feel yourself tense, chest tightening but before you can move to cover yourself, Eli is taking your hand in his.

“You look great,” he compliments, the words sincere. 

And just like that, all your worries wash away. You knew it wa stupid, but it was hard to fight the self-esteem issues that had been taunted at you for years of your life. The things Yasmine and some of the other bullies had said stuck with you and even though you were surrounded by friends and those who cared for you, it was hard not to hear those biting words in the back of your head.

Despite knowing Eli a long time, you’d never been dressed in something so… revealing before. And sure, he was your boyfriend now and you guessed that sort of step just came with the relationship. It didn’t mean you had been any less nervous.

But the warm smile on his lips and the sincerity of his words are reassuring and they leave your heart fluttering in a completely different way than it had before.

Feeling hot and embarrassed, you glance at your lap; “shut up.”

“What?” he laughs, squeezing your hand. “It’s true.”

-

You meet Eli halfway as he makes his way back from whatever that confrontation with Cobra Kai had been. The sight of Robby making his way over to Tory has you frowning, trying to piece together whatever you could before finally coming to a stop in front of Eli.

“What was that about?” You ask, shifting your focus to Eli as he sets his hands on your arms.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, shaking his head as he tries to lead the both of you back to your friends. You just root yourself in the spot, not letting him pull away.

“Eli,” you huff, “what was it about?”

Sighing, Eli pulls you aside, moving to explain. “They were just being pricks to Sam’s brother, okay? But it’s fine. We sorted it out.” Then, smiling faintly, he brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Nothing to worry about, okay?”

You glance over his shoulder once more, meeting Tory’s eyes along the way, frowning at the glare she sends you. Turning back to Eli, you hesitate, but at the look he sends you, you just sigh, nodding. “Okay.”

Eager to distract you, Eli grins. “Wanna go on some rides?”

Unable to fight the smile that curls on your lips, you shrug; “sure. Let’s go.”

-

It was not nothing to worry about.

Just twenty minutes after you and Eli settle back down on the beach chairs, both him and Miguel are getting up when a fight between Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do-and-Eagle-Fang adjacent breaks out. You try to call after Eli and get him to stop, but he barely listens to you, and before you know it the both of them are off. A look Moon and Sam’s way tells you, you all know how this is gonna end – bad, as usual.

Choosing to stay back, knowing that this stuff never ends well, you try to ignore it and relax but your eyes keep flickering over. You may not want to participate in this drama between the dojo’s, but all of your friends were involved and your concern especially laid with Eli; you knew it was hard for him to ignore all of it because of his past with Cobra Kai and everything that had happened and that inevitably caused you to worry.

Eventually, Eli and Tory end up racing down the waterslides to see who’s better but the non-confrontational altercation is quickly ruined when Eli proclaims Cobra Kai cheated. Which then escalates, naturally, and eventually leads to all of you being kicked out of the water park.

Which left you to now, walking home with Eli.

Sam had left early, annoyed and when Miguel realized she wasn’t there, he left too, going to talk to Robby. Too tired to deal with that, which was bound to go poorly, you continued on with Eli, Moon and Yasmine until the two girls left too.

Leaving just you and Eli.

Hand in hand, Eli’s eyes keep shifting over to you beside him, worried eyes registering the frown on your lips and sensing the disappointment flooding off of you. A part of him feels guilty, knowing that he’d been a piece of the reason why you’d all been kicked out of the water park in the first place. But… but he hopes you understand why it all started in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Eli whispers a moment later in awkward silence, unable to handle it. Your eyes snap to him at his words, wide eyes falling on him as he runs a hand through his hair. “I know you were excited to hang… I didn’t mean to get us kicked out.”

Lips parting, you’re quick to shake your head. “Eli, I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?” he doubts, raising a brow. “You… look mad.”

“No,” you sigh, shoulders falling. “I’m not mad. Not at you. Just disappointed… I wish we could get past our differences and get along with Cobra Kai.”

Eli, unable to help himself, scoffs. “Yeah, as if.”

You send him a sharp glance and Eli pauses, swallowing thickly.

“Y-Y/N…” He calls out nervously. “I mean… you must understand, right? That won’t happen.”

“Why not?” You huff, shrugging your shoulders as you instinctively pull your hand from his grasp. “If we could just see past our differences, then—”

“There’s no ‘seeing past our differences’,” Eli cuts off; perhaps a bit sharper than he intended if the look in his eyes is anything to go by. He hesitates, holding himself back for a moment, clearly trying to think of what to say. He decides with; “I mean, they’re the enemy. Robby, Tory, all of them.”

“They’re kids, like us,” you remind, shaking your head. “They’re just like us. And-And Robby isn’t an enemy, he’s not even in Cobra Kai anymore! Neither is Tory or Kenny! Or the rest of them! They’re being brainwashed!” You don’t even realize the way your voice is raising, spiking in your distress as the both of you stand there in the middle of the parking lot.

Eli just shakes his head. “They go too far,” he argues, “and we will never be able to see past our differences.”

Looking back, you wouldn’t have said the words that you do and really, you regret them the second you say them. But the some far part of you, deep in your mind that realizes that isn’t able to see that clarity in that moment and the words just come pouring from your lips.

“What, like you weren’t one of them in the past?”

Something shifts in Eli’s eyes; “so this is about me?”

“What?” You call, baffled. “No! I just meant…”

Really, you don’t know what you meant.

“I knew you still haven't forgiven me for all of that,” Eli scoffs. “It’s clear that you still see me that way.”

“No!” You cry out, unaware of the eyes watching the both of you. “I don’t!”

Eli just steps back from you; “you said it was all in the past.”

“It is! I just meant that you realized your mistakes so who’s to say that they can’t either?”

You know you’re right. Eli probably knows too. But the jab still hovers in the air and stings and it doesn’t allow Eli to see past his own fog of anger to realize the truth of your words. Instead, he just shakes his head down at you, scoffing. 

“You don’t get it,” he huffs.

Your eyes widen, stepping towards him. “I’m trying to.” And you reach for him, try to grab his hand and pull him back and apologize even if you knew you were right – you just don’t want to fight anymore. You hate fighting, especially with Eli.

But it doesn’t matter. Eli pulls away before you can and with one more narrowed glance, he simply turns, walking off and leaves you there without another glance back.

And you stand there, watching him for a moment, eyes welling with tears as you try to recount how that conversation went so wrong, so quickly. You knew that what you’d said about when Eli was in Cobra Kai was wrong, but you didn’t understand how Eli couldn’t see that he and Miguel and all of them were acting irrational about Cobra Kai now. Sure, some of them have done shitty things – like Tory or Kenny, but it was all because of John Kreese and now, now it was because of Terry Silver.

Biting your lip, you hug yourself, feeling vulnerable in an entirely new way. Things had been going so well for you and Eli – or at least, it had seemed that way. You thought that both of you would be able to see past what had happened and start new, but clearly neither of you were able to forget everything completely. Eli and his whole ‘Hawk’ thing wasn’t gone from your mind, even if you wished it was and though you obviously were no longer mad at him, it wasn’t that easy just to forget it all. And clearly, it was still very much on Eli’s mind as well.

“You okay?”

Jumping at the new voice, you’re quick to wipe at your eyes, desperate not to be seen having been crying, turning in the direction only to pause when you realize it’s Robby.

Staring at him for a moment, you huff; “i’m fine.”

“You don’t look like you’re fine.”

You just scoff, hugging yourself tighter. “Surprised you’re even talking to me,” you choose to deflect the topic of conversation. If anything, just to give yourself a piece of mind. “Aren’t I the ‘enemy’?”

Robby just snorts; “not part of Cobra Kai, remember?” His voice is light, teasing, obviously in an attempt to cheer you up as he comes to a stand next to you. It doesn’t work. “Besides, you’re definitely not my enemy.”

That makes you feel better, though, just a little.

Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you shrug; “should tell your girlfriend that.” You know you’re being a tad cruel, but you feel like you’re justified in it. Just a little. Robby has been kind of M.I.A. recently and ignoring you, even if it wasn’t intentional. You figure this is a chance to get a little bit of payback. “She glares at me any time she sees me. It’s worse when she sees us talking… not that you and I have a lot recently.”

Robby winces at that, “sorry about that.” And at your raised brow, he adds; “the whole being distant thing and Tory. Besides, I’m not even sure we’re really… dating anymore.” Sighing, Robby’s shoulders fall in defeat. “I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

Looking in the direction Eli had gone, you let out a laugh; “I'd say.”

Robby frowns at you, a look of concern clear in his eyes. You know he’s going to say something – it’s clear he saw you and Eli fighting, and if not, he definitely saw you crying. But you don’t want to talk about it. Not now.

So, instead, you opt for; “walk me home?”

The concern doesn’t fade but a genuine smile curls on Robby’s lips; “sure.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

NO MORE GAMES

A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“I’m not, this is truly the end.”

Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.

You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?

Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later. 

Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.

You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.

“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.

It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.

“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”

“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”

“You’re not even reading their bio!”

“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”

You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.

Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area. 

To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.

It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard. 

The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.

Harry.

The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.

He is definitely your type. 

He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.

He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.

One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking. 

Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?

HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile. 

You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.

Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.

HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?

You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.

You give him your number. 

You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try? 

Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.

You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.

You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life. 

As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.

Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.

“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.

“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.

“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”

“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”

“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.

You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.

You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.

When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.

Y/N: Thanks for nothing.

And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.

The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now. 

You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.

Yet.

It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.

You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know. 

“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”

Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.

“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”

Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.

Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.

You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.

“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him. 

“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”

Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence. 

“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.

“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”

He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.

He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages. 

“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”

The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation. 

It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.

A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself. 

“Can I at least try to explain myself?”

The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it. 

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”

“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”

“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”

“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”

You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad. 

And he really looks way too good.

“Alright. Apology accepted.”

He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.

“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.

“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”

Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur. 

You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other. 

A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact. 

Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.

With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires. 

As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.

The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.

It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different. 

While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”

“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.

“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view. 

“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.” 

The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.

“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.

“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”

And with that, you stroll out of the office. 

Y/N one, Harry zero.

You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his. 

And of course because you love him. 

Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own. 

Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything. 

You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.

Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside. 

It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him. 

The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.

First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog. 

Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now. 

You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.

“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”

“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.

“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”

“Alright.”

With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?

It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.

Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.

“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”

Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.

It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.

“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.

“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work. 

“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue. 

You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.

“Is this supposed to be punishment?”

“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.

“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.

“Pink looks good on you!”

He did not joke when he said he would play along.

So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well. 

He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other. 

You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably. 

It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is. 

The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date. 

Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea. 

She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game. 

You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up. 

When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game. 

You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.

Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.

And then you just wait. 

For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.

Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???

Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.

HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.

You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire. 

His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that? 

Got it, sir.

Or maybe…

Don’t tell me what to do.

Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking. 

You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to. 

A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room. 

“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug. 

“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.

You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months. 

“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry. 

A lot has happened since then.

You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then. 

“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.

“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile. 

“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts. 

“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”

“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.

“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”

Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. 

“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown. 

“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”

Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.

“Holy shit, he really is hot!”

“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”

“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”

Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his. 

Then your phone lights up with a text from him.

HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.

“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible. 

“Is he jealous?”

“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.

Y/N: And what if it is?

His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.

HARRY: It better not be.

Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.

“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.

While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while. 

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.

The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.

“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.

“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.

“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”

“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out. 

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.

“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat. 

“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind. 

HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.

“No more games.”

“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.

“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible. 

Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth. 

“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”

All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy. 

“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.

“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you. 

All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.

And you love every moment of it.

It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.

“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”

His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.

When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.

You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.

“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”

You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.

“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.

“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.

“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.

“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.

“Okay, I approve.”

You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.

“Should we talk about this after?”

“I can come over when you get home.”

“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”

“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.

The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad. 

The news that you and Harry are together.

He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.

Absurd. 

Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.

“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it. 

“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.

“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks. 

“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.

“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”

You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.

Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.

“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”

Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.

“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.

“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly. 

“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[leafsbabe]

Vince Dunn- thigh riding (SMUT)

Vince and you had only just started dating when you came up with the idea. The two of you had spent every waking moment going at it like bunnies, so it was no surprise that your Valentine’s Day gift to Vince was something related to sex. Granted, maybe the sexy coupons were a little self serving, but so were the multiple sets of lingerie he had gotten you. 

Now, several months later, you had worked your way through most of the little booklet (and more than one pair of lacy nothing). The spark was still very much present, but Vince liked peeling you out of a pair of sweatpants just as much as he liked unwrapping you out of lingerie.

You were camped out on the couch when Vince came home from hanging out with the boys. He looked so good, even if he insisted on wearing shorts in the chilly autumn weather. 

You watched as Vince toed off his shoes before he made his way to the couch, lifting up your blanket so that he could crawl in with you. The tip of his nose felt cold against your skin as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Did you have fun?” 

He hummed against your skin before lifting his face so he could look at you. 

“I missed you though.”

Vince looked so cute as he said it, rosy cheeks and pretty curls. You wanted to respond and tell him that you missed him, too, but then he shoved his cold hands under your hoodie so you had a few less than sweet words for him. 

A little time passed with the two of you laying there. Vince had his hands still buried under your hoodie while yours alternated between combing through his curls and stroking his back. It was a cozy evening for the two of you, and you were half convinced that he had fallen asleep on you when Vince lifted his head again. 

“Do you want to use up another coupon this weekend?”

You gave his curls a tug, smiling as he let out a small moan before smiling back.

“We can do that.” Sex with Vince was always fun, but the times you tried new things just stood out. “What do you have in mind?”

There were several coupons left, but it had been a while since you looked over them.

Vince’s smile didn’t leave his lips as he leaned down, letting his mouth ghost over your skin and pressing the softest kiss to your neck. Another one followed, this time against your jawline, before he finally spoke —not in a whisper but in a low tone that you listen closely.

“What’s your fantasy, Bunny?”

He pulled away without kissing you again, but when he saw your pout he relented and leaned back down to kiss it away.

“Need me to get anything for it? Special lube? New toys?” He paused to kiss you again. “A costume for roleplay?”

There had been a certain fantasy in your head when you had written it down. One you hadn’t yet tried even after months of dating. It was a simple fantasy, but something about it just made you feel awkward.

But if Vince could be brave and choose to fulfill a fantasy not knowing what it was, then you could be brave enough not to shy away.

“No, we don’t need any of that. I just need you. And maybe some lube.”

He bit his lip, so wonderfully Vince that you wanted to pull him down and kiss him again, but the look in his eyes made you pause.

“You don’t want to put something in my ass, right?”

“Not until you want to put something in my ass.”

The relieved look on his face lasted for maybe three seconds before his face fell and the pout returned. He’d survive.

You sat up properly and Vince followed. The blanket you had been laying under fell away through the movement, giving you the best view of Vince’s pale thighs where he was spreading them on the couch.

At least you managed to catch yourself staring.

“You’re not allowed to judge, okay?”

Vince nodded, holding up his little finger in front of your face.

“Pinky promise I won’t.”

Instead of linking your pinky with his, you leaned forward and gently bit his finger. He laughed but let you climb into his lap.

“I want to ride your thigh.” You said, sat across both of his legs. Vince looked like he was about to say something so you quickly continued. “And I know it’s selfish, but I promise I’ll get you off right after and you don’t even have to do anything, you can just lay down and let me do the work. It’ll be fun.”

You definitely rambled at the end but you couldn’t help it. You were so nervous for his reaction.

“That’s so hot.” 

That wasn’t the reaction you had imagined.

“Fuck, Bunny, please. Yes. Whatever you want.”

Vince’s arms wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer against him. This also caused your laps to touch, making you gasp when you realized that he was starting to grow harder underneath you. Vince seemed into the idea though, rutting up to seek out the contact. Oh.

“You’re into it?” It felt like a stupid question but you needed to hear him say it.

"Yes. Take off your pants.”

He was already tugging on your waist band, one large hand sliding inside to palm your ass and pull you closer again while he leaned in for a kiss.

Laughing, you pushed against his chest to get some space between you two. “You’re going to have to let me get up if you want me to take them off.”

It wasn’t until you were standing in front of Vince that you realized how fucking beautiful he looked. Wild curls, flushed cheeks, oversized hoodie, and these tiny shorts you wouldn’t even need to push up in order to ride his thigh.

It didn’t take you long to take off your pants and sit down on Vince’s lap again, this time with only one of his thick thighs between yours. 

The first touch of your pussy against his bare leg made you moan, the feeling of his warm skin against you nearly enough to make you miss his own moan, echoing yours.

“Fuck, Bunny. You’re so wet.” His voice sounded so fucked out already. Low and needy. So pretty.

You slowly started to move your hips, riding his thigh like you had fantasized about. At first he only looked at you, but it didn’t take long for Vince to start moving, too.

His hands found your hips, your waist, the soft part of your middle. Everywhere and nowhere at once as he pulled and pushed. You moved with him, riding and grinding, getting yourself off on his thigh.

It was almost funny how fast you got yourself worked up, but the feeling of finally getting what you wanted overshadowed it.

Vince leaned up to kiss you while his hands gripped your ass and pulled you harder against him. His hips seemed to move on their own, fucking up to let you feel just how hard he was for you and mindlessly chasing his pleasure not unlike yourself.

The change of angle made you moan but Vince wasn’t deterred, mouth moving from your lips to your neck and sucking hard enough to leave a tender mark within seconds. 

“Please, Vinny, please.”

He kept on guiding you, dragging you against his thigh and against his hard bulge, not hard enough to hurt but enough to give you all the friction you needed.

You picked up your pace, riding him like you needed to, not following the rhythm he was trying to set. It was so easy to get lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You barely managed to get your hand into Vince’s curls to pull him up and unto a kiss before you fell apart, still grinding against him, continuing the pressure on your clit.

You didn’t know how long you continued to move —no control over the way your hips rolled against his skin— but at some point the overstimulation stopped and you sat there with shaking thighs, still straddling Vince’s lap. When you looked down you saw it were his hands that were holding you still, the soft surface of his skin between your bodies shiny from your wetness.

Your voice was still shaky when you spoke after what felt like an eternity. “Thank you. That was…” You trailed off, not knowing how to describe the experience.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. That.”

Vince and you smiled at each other before both of you laughed, a short sweet giggle that made you want to lean down and kiss him. So you did.

It was only when his hands on your hips tightened that you remembered something.

“Hey, let me…” You tried to reach for his shorts but Vince stopped you.

“You don’t have to.”

“I told you I’d get you back. It’s fine just let me…”

He just chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I’m good. Give me like… ten minutes to recover.”

When you just looked at him he relented. “Maybe fifteen.”

It was only then that you noticed the dark spot on his shorts. At first you assumed it was from you grinding against him but then you realized.

“Did you come in your pants?”

“Did you expect me not to?” One of his hands came up to ruffle through his hair. 

That and the look on his face —a perfect combination of bashful and cheeky— just made you clench around his thigh again.

“Fuck, Vinny, that’s so hot.”

“I try.” 

You let yourself fall against his chest, cuddling closer when his arms curled around you. At some point he picked up the discarded blanket and wrapped it around the two of you before relaxing back.

“We’re getting you those shorts in every color.” You finally decided.

Vince just pressed a kiss to your temple before resting his head on yours.

“Whatever you want, Bunny.”

[henneseyhoe]

Still Mine.

Tyrone x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Tyrone being a slut, baby daddy drama, smutty flashback, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex(wrap it before you smack it!), abortion mentioned, pill mentioned, baby trapping, short, tad bit unedited.

SUMMARY: During Tyrone’s weekly pickup of his daughter, he tries to make his baby mama fold.

Ps. This was originally SO much longer but I didn’t like the way some parts were written so I cut it in half lolzzz

✮✮✮✮

“You know if I licked it, it’s mine, right?”

Your face twisted into a mug at Tyrone’s words while packing a diaper bag with all the necessary things your daughter needed for the weekend with him.

“Tyrone, please don’t start with that tonight” You couldn’t believe the extents he’d go just because you were seeing other people, it was crazy! Tyrone didn’t see it that way though.

The man was a tyrant. A danger to society and other men when he suspects you fucking with somebody who wasn’t him. Every single time he found out, he would let you know that you had limited days with that nigga, which he was always right about.

They’d either disappear completely or simply just stop responding to your texts.

One time you saw one of them at the grocery store and tried to say hi but he ran the other way, even left his cart stacked with groceries. You wondered what the hell was going on, and why they were so scared, but you knew there was only one person that could have them running for the hills like that, and it wasn’t you.

“I’m not startin’ shit, I’m speakin’ facts. You playin’, knowing them niggas ain’t shit compared to me”

Though the statement was true, it was bold of him to assume you wasn’t getting any good play. It was rare you did, but still! It’s the audacity.

You look at Tyrone up and down before bursting into laughter, making the infant besides you both slightly jump in her pack and play, looking around in confusion before flipping over on her stomach, a skill she just learned.

“Oop- I’m sorry, mama” You apologize to her, the baby just rolling back over and blinking up at you with a tether in her mouth. “Now, back to yo’ delusional ass!”

You thanked god the small child wasn’t old enough to understand words because she would have been cursing like a sailor by now. Pointing at Tyrone with the acrylic nails he paid for, that same signature mean look on his face that he always wore when somebody had him fucked up, you squint.

“Ain’t shit yours, and it hasn’t been yours since about a year now”

Tyrone sucks his teeth, still not believing anything you were saying to him.

“You shittin’ me, it’s always gon be mine!”

“Says who?! You crazy” You blow him off with the wave of your hand, zipping the diaper bag up and handing it to him.

He grabs it, then drops it to his feet without a care, crossing his arms. You look at him with a confused expression, your eyebrow cocked upwards.

“Why you like playin’ wit’ me?” He questioned while straight faced, but you stood your ground, unlike when you use to submit under him and his tone when you two were together. Truthfully, you use to be a bit scared of the nigga. He never gave you a reason to be personally, but he was a hard shell to crack, you rarely knew if he was happy or sad until he said something to steer you in a certain direction.

“Tyrone, quit playing and find you something safe to do, aight?” You fired back, challenging him. He moved not one inch. You knew he wasn’t scared of you at all, so this was no surprise, but you wasn’t gonna take him treating you like this in your own damn house.

“How many niggas you fucked since we broke up, Y/N?”

You shrug. “However many I wanted. I dunno, I wasn’t counting”

“Okay” He nods slowly, putting you on edge just a tad bit. You hum and study his reaction. He only did that when he had some shit up his sleeve. A simple answer, then a nod before he did or said some fuck shit. “And if I find them niggas and suddenly they stop callin’, then what?” Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“One less problem for me. You already pack up enough niggas in the glen anyway. Can’t kill ‘em all!” You giggle childishly after gaining your composure again, but as you found humor, the man stayed oh so serious.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what a nigga can do now”

“Lemme guess, you learned to read a no loitering sign? Or maybe a no trespassing one?” You continued to joke, him finding nothing funny, as usual.

“You think you so funny” He warns, but you brush him off again, picking the diaper bag up and handing it to him again, this time forcing it in his hands to keep it there.

“I’m fuckin’ hilarious, nigga. better ask bout me”

Tyrone rolls his eyes.

“…so you really tellin’ me youn miss me?”

You turn and walk away to ignore the man further, side eyeing him as he followed. “Get out my face, Ty”

“Stop playin…so youn miss how I use to beat that pussy till you cry?” He spoke, getting closer to your ear so you could hear every syllable there. See, if this was a year and some change ago, you would have folded yourself in on a couch and put your legs to the sky faster than a pin could drop, but you had a point to prove.

You inched away from him to your kitchen, but he followed behind like a hungry shark that smelled blood.

“Let daddy dig that pussy out again, baby. You know I do it better than any other nigga”

Just with those few words, it had you thinking of flashbacks, your eyes fighting off a roll inwards. You knew the power he held in those boxers, you knew all too well what he was capable of. When Tyrone got to the pussy, he made sure he wasn’t playing no games. The man would even pull your bed from the wall everytime he came over so nobody in your moms house could hear how hard he was beating it up, talking dirty to you like you was a random bitch from the club, and that was your favorite part. That’s how you got into this mess anyway. Stuck with him and a tiny human who stole your face.

✮✮✮✮

Tyrone was definitely a man of threats, but he had never fallen through with any of the non-violent ones till this.

As Tyrone bucked his hips wildly into you, your leg began to quiver in his hold. You had thanked the gods that he had opted to lay you down on your side instead of fucking you standing up like he loved to do. You were sure your legs would have gave out by now if you were upright.

“Imma nut in this pussy, baby. Can daddy nut in this pussy? You want daddy to get you pregnant?”

He asks, and you nodded gladly like a dummy. Whatever the female version of pussy whipped was, you were definitely long past it. Even in that moment, you thought he wasn’t serious about the whole baby thing. He had never talked about one outside of sex, and you honestly thought he was against the entire idea of kids with the way he’d run junebug out of his presence when he’d do normal kid shit. He just didn’t seem serious.

Hell, you knew you weren’t serious about it. What would you do with a baby in this economy? Most importantly, how the fuck were you gonna care for it? You were only 21 and he was 24, had no business being together, but obviously he wasn’t the type to follow rules of any kind, or let you go.

The more he promised to get you pregnant, the harder y’all fucked until you were on top, riding him like there was a prize at the finish line you called an orgasm. Your hands were placed on his thighs behind you and your back was arched in as you spread your legs wide and bounced that ass on him, giving him the perfect opportunity to see himself slip in and out of you.

“Shit…shit! I’m bout to cum!” He shouts while panting, a few groans exiting his mouth.

“Fuuuck! I’m bout to nut, bae!” You heard him announce once again, but that wasn’t what set off alarms in your head, it was when he held you down and continued thrusting upwards into your wetness, making you leak. You whimper and shout, toes curling into the mattress.

“Shit! Lemme get up, Ty!” You tap his hands, trying to get them off of your hips so you could move, but he continues to bounce you with his fingers gripping you tightly, bound to leave a mark. “Tyrone! lemme get up, please!” You shout with urgency, but it had already been too late. By the time you rose up off of his dick, he had been pumping out the last bit of his seed, the small amount just sliding down the shaft of his dick. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Tyrone was a shooter in more ways than one, but when it came to cumming, he was damn near like a loaded gun. You’d have to squeeze your eyes shut when giving him head because he liked to cum on your face, and the first time he did, he almost blinded you with how far he came, literally.

“My god…” You breathed harshly, looking down at his dick begin to soften.

When it was all said and done, you asked him for money for a plan B, but lo and behold, he already had a pill prepared. Right in the glove compartment of his car is where he kept it and gave it to you when he came to see you the next day. But, as the weeks went by, you started to feel like that pill wasn’t much of a plan B, or at least not your “plan B”. It was definitely Tyrone’s though.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and nine of those later, you were popping out a little girl with a full head of hair and features just like yours. If you told somebody you made the baby alone, they’d probably believe you with how much you two looked alike. You were pissed off your entire pregnancy at Tyrone, but that didn’t stop you from loving your baby, you just couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of her either, though the process wasn’t foreign to you. If the “plan B” didn’t take her out, then who says she wasn’t meant to be here? But, with that being said, as you came closer to your due date, you grew farther from Tyrone while he was trying to keep you close, you even moved out of the glen and into a whole ‘nother town over.

He was there through your entire pregnancy, or at least tried when you weren’t trying to kill him for getting into stupid shit and almost dying, but because he was still so supportive and caring for you, checking up on how both you and the baby were doing, you cut him some slack, letting him name the bouncing baby girl. He went with the name ‘Autum’ because you two met in autumn, to your surprise he even remembered that since it had been so long ago.

Fast forward five months later, y’all were still beefing on and off over stupid shit. You would curse him out over scaring away new friends and or lovers, he’d ignore it and continue, working extra hard to make sure all them niggas knew who he was. Oh, Tyrone was on a mission, and he would not be ignored by some lame nigga you wanted to fuck, or ignored by you.

✮✮✮✮

[dollwrites]

— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark ( may contain noncon ). these pieces are never proof read so mistakes are probably present. < 3 enjoy your experience

ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, Rᴜғᴜs, ɪs ᴀɴ ᴀssʜᴏʟᴇ. he can’t stand your whining. “Stop crying so much.” he hisses through grit teeth when his hips slam into yours. his rhythm has always been slow and hard. deep. burying himself as far into core as he could possibly get, until his balls smashed against your entrance, acting as a bumper. only this time, with a large hand on each globe, spreading them apart, he ravaged your ass. “You’re my wife, aren’t you? You wanted to be the Mrs. Shinra, didn’t you?” his tone is hateful ( as per usual ), but broken through feral panting. he gives one cheek a rough smack with the meat of his palm before his fingers dig in once more, before you even had the chance to react to the harsh sting. “You wanted all of the luxury of being mine, didn’t you?”

you nod, with a gurgled groan leaving your trembling lips. knowing that each additional sniffle may grant you another spank.

“Of course you did. So, be a good little wife, and take my cock in your ass.” Rufus elicits a ragged exhale, “Push back into it.”

disobeying him was out of the question. with an uncomfortable shift on your knees, you widen your stance, and slowly push your ass back into him, his inches breaching the aching ring until your cheeks jiggle against his taught, lower abdomen. you didn’t dare look over your shoulder, but you could envision him there. on his knees, hips jutted forward and chest heaving, glistening with sweat. his thinner couplet would be parted to allow the rough panting of a man who loves to hurt you, his ice-blue eyes probably glaring down at your movements, with his chin tucked towards his chest.

“It… hurts…” you gripe, though stretched into a whimper, you press your forehead flat against the sheets and try to push the pressure of his girth pressing into an otherwise uncharted canal to the back of your mind. the solace you could find was in the desperate rubbing of your own fingertips against your cunt, strumming your swollen clit. of course, he’d been the one to demand that you play with yourself, but only because he didn’t care to do it himself.

Rufus doesn’t answer for several moments, and you wonder if it’s possibly because he’s entranced by the shape of your round ass as you move back and forth, begrudgingly fucking yourself in the ass. perhaps it’s even the way that his cock slides into it, with enough resistance to have him grunting and grinding his teeth. “I don’t recall asking if you liked it.” finally, after a few seconds, he murmurs. you hated that condescending lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry, my love, if I gave you the impression that what you wanted —or didn’t want— mattered.” as he growls this, one of his hands creeps along your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until his fingers dig into your hair, gripping at the root, and jerking your head back. you’re craning your neck, looking up at him, and it feels as though his vice will rip your hair out. you wince, and attempt to bargain with him by moving your hips faster, hoping to persuade him to let go. however, with your eyes locked on to his stern blue ones, you see not an ounce of mercy within them. no love. only carnal pleasures. “That is my fault; I should not have assumed that such a simple thing would understand. Allow me to shed more light on what a marriage to me means.” even as he hunkered over you, his lips hovering inches over yours, you know better than to stop moving your hips. of course, he’d anchored you closer, so your hips were bucking in shorter spurts, but the flared head of his cock was deep in your ass, battering the spongy interior with each thrust. your eyes watered, your mouth agape. “You get the benefit of my money. My bodyguards. My home. My empire. And in exchange for all that I offer you, you forfeit the privilege of consent. You may flaunt the title of Rufus Shinra’s wife in public, but you are a glorified cocksleeve, my love.”

[diremoone]

christmas overload | g. satoru

prompt 3 — “It’s our baby’s first Christmas. I don’t think they’re going to remember you buying them all of these stuffies.”

requested by anon: pleaseee bless us with gojo and christmas prompt 3 pleaseeeee

[ Christmas Prompt List ]

[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]

“I know you have money out the ass, Satoru, but was this really necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

The man looks 100% confident, not an ounce of shame written across his face. In fact, he looks like he’s never been more happy with himself, ego ballooned farther than even you thought was possible.

Underneath the multicolored lights of the ten foot Christmas tree are stuffies galore. You note that there are several dozen more presents under the tree than there were before you’d taken a nap, but those seemed to be nothing compared to all of the stuffed animals and plushies surrounding the tree and taking up so much space in the living room.

Your 6’3 husband stands proudly before said tree, hands on his hips dramatically with a fat smile on his face.

“You think Satsuki will like it?” Satoru asks.

“I think she’s going to go crazy over it,” you answer. And Satoru’s grin gets impossibly bigger, simple on full display. But then you add something else to the sentence, making his happy smile plummet. “But she’s only eight months, Satoru. I don’t think she’s going to remember you buying all of these stuffies and presents.”

Satoru’s shoulders slump. He knows that you’re right; she’s too little, too tiny to remember her overexcited Daddy spoiling her on her very first Christmas.

Guilt courses through you at the sound of a sad sniffle coming from him. Satoru’s large body sits next to yours on the couch, leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I just wanted her first Christmas to be special,” he mutters.

“And it is, baby,” you say. You rub his back in comfort. “She’ll know her daddy tried to spoil her on her first Christmas, she just… won’t remember. Not this year.”

His cheeks puff out as he huffs. He looks at you with shiny eyes, laced with what you know to be disappointment, and asks, “Are you sure she won’t remember?”

“Unless she’s got some unreal ability to remember this right now that we don’t know about, I’d say so,” you reply. “But it’s not like there won’t be pictures for her to remember later in life.”

“That’s true, but I want her to remember them now!” he whines childishly.

“Sorry to disappoint, babe.” You ruffle his hair. “That’s just the way it is. Give it a few years and then you’ll get what you want.”

Satoru sighs and leans back against the back of the couch. He covers his eyes with his arm dramatically. “I guess.”

And then the doorbell suddenly rings, making you jump. You weren’t expecting anyone today, so who in the world was at the front door?

Cries fill the air. No doubt the doorbell woke up your eight-month-old daughter.

Satoru stands. “You get Satsuki, I’ll get the door.”

You head toward the nursery, opening the ajar door to find your precious girl awake and upset with tears and snot running down her face. Her wails turn to soft cries as her pretty blue eyes that match her daddy’s meet your own. You slide your hands under her back and head and lift her to your chest. Her soft cries turn to soft sniffles as she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay, ‘Suki. I know the doorbell scared you,” you soothe her, rubbing her back up and down gently. “Sorry, sorry. Come on, let’s go see your papa. He’ll protect you, won’t he?”

Satsuki sniffles and nods, snuggling impossibly closer into your hold like she’s agreeing with you.

You head back into the living room, only for your mouth to drop to the floor.

Beside the Christmas tree, on either side, was a massive plush Baymax and a gigantic teddy bear just as big. Resting against the front door is a stuffed reindeer that’s almost as big, its big fat red nose showing that its Rudolph.

Satoru looks at you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head.

“Too much?”

You nod, mouth still ajar. “Too much.”

But your baby girl doesn’t think so. She immediately starts clapping and reaching for the giant teddy bear that’s closest to her out of the three.

Satoru’s sheepish grin turns into one of absolute enthusiasm and love at the sight of his baby reaching for one of the presents he’s gotten her. He practically skips over to you and scoops up the white-haired princess.

“Did Daddy do a good job? You like the presents Daddy got you, my little Princess Mochi?”

The gleeful energy from the two combined is absolutely infectious. You laugh as Satoru spins his eight-month-old daughter through the air, bubbly shrieks of delight escaping her lips.

Yeah, you’d tell Satoru she had some sort of ability to remember her first Christmas, just to keep the smile on his face.

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu @nayrring @missmuffinr @itzmeme @torusmochi

[tippenstoepens]

Prettiest Girl in the Room

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

Wordcount: 1.2k

You couldn’t hold it against Joe. As an adult woman, you knew better by now. Kisses don’t come with strings attached and just because a person kisses you, doesn’t mean they want to spend the rest of their life with you - especially if that kiss happened while both parties were drunk.

Which Joe made pretty apparent when he didn’t call you the morning after your kiss. Or the three mornings after that. Or the three months after that. All you had heard from Joe was his reaction notifications from the cast group chat when someone would send a Twitter meme made of the show. Everyone fancied one of Jackson’s character screaming “Well, you can shove your ham up your ass!” 

“Joekeery loved an image”

That’s all you got. 

You went about your life the way you always did between gigs: waitressing during the week, babysitting your friends’ kids on weekends, and sending out the odd self-tape in hopes your career wasn’t over before it had even begun. It was a nice, simple life. Not every actor was fortunate enough to afford a roof over their head in New York City, no matter how many doubles they worked. You consider yourself spoiled rotten every day. What could possibly be missing?

You didn’t date. That was probably part of the problem. That’s what made Joe’s silence ache so deeply. You wondered if it would change anything if he knew that the most action you had gotten in months before the kiss was getting catcalled in the streets. A simple kiss meant the world to celibate, touch starved women like you.

Maybe you should be the one to call him… And maybe you should crawl on your knees begging him to pay you a modicum of attention with “DESPERATE” written on your forehead in red Sharpie just to put the icing on the idiot cake. 

He popped into your mind way more often than he was welcome. At the grocery store when one of the songs he always played in the makeup trailer started harassing you over the intercom. In your kitchen when you removed fish bones from your salmon. In bed when you were trying to… Well, that’s no one’s business. 

“Guess who has two thumbs and just got renewed for a second season,” the director bubbled in the group chat.

“Oh, I love this game,” David texted. “This show. Our show got greenlit.”

It was time to shake it off. Not just for the sake of the show, but for your own sake. It wasn’t healthy to dwell so much on the past. 

On the first day back from hiatus, the producers and director had the cast sit for a table read of the first few scripts they had written. As Joe’s TV wife, you’d expect to be sitting next to him considering most of your scenes were together. Maybe you should talk to Joe and clear the air before the table read started. Yes. That’s the mature thing to do.

You arrived twenty-five minutes early - which is on-the-dot on time in the acting world. Joe wasn’t there when you arrived. Or ten minutes after you did. Or five minutes after that.The anticipation of Joe’s arrival was turning your stomach into knots. He was usually punctual. Surely, he wasn’t tardy because of you.

“Any word from Joe?” The director mumbled to his assistant. 

“Haven’t heard from him,” they replied.

You began to worry. Was he skipping out on the table read because he didn’t want to see you? Had his avoidance of you gone that far? He’d have to get over it eventually. He had a contract to fulfill. Just as you began your descent into a catastrophizing spiral, the clock struck eleven and Joe jogged into the room - beads of sweat forming at his hairline. “So sorry,” he panted. “Traffic was terrible.”

“It’s okay, we wouldn’t get started without our golden boy,” David teased. “I hear he’s up for sexiest man alive this year.”

Joe blew a short raspberry in response.

“Alright, alright, let’s get right into it, shall we? From the top of episode one.” The director chirped, no doubt relieved that he didn’t have to read Joe’s lines for him. “Interior. The Henderson bedroom. John and Jane Henderson lie in bed, covered only by their silk bed sheets. They’re snuggled up together. Post-coitus is implied.”

Say sike right now. You had never done a scene like this with Joe before. Never! The Henderson’s didn’t even have a scene like this in their honeymoon episode.

Of course this would be the first scene on the first day back after your first time seeing Joe after your first kiss. It was fan service. Every girl, guy, and person wanted to see more of Joe’s skin these days. But why did you have to be dragged into it?

You turned to look Joe in the eyes as you would have at any other table reading. Normal. This is normal. Business as usual. But it didn’t feel as easy as it was before. At first, you struggled to make eye contact and when you finally did, the intensity of his gaze made you blush a bit. Only a bit. The show must go on.

“That was amazing, sweetheart,” he scooped the line off the page and met your gaze again. 

God, the script writing was really going downhill this season, huh?

You sighed contently as the script dictated. “You’re tellin’ me!”

The whole cast chuckled.

The rest of the table read went on without a single hitch. After the ice was broken, things weren’t nearly as awkward as you dreaded they would be. The cast went through the entire table read five times before the lunch break. The first thing you did with your free time was approach Joe.

“You didn’t call.”

“Neither did you."

Fair, but not really because Joe was the one with a booming career and Joe was the one everyone tuned in to the show for and Joe was the one with most of the power in this dynamic and Joe was the one who initiated the kiss and infinitely many other reasons that he was to blame came to mind before you finally came to the conclusion that you didn’t call Joe because you were afraid of the possibility of rejection. What if you followed up only to find out that he wasn’t interested in you? Your low-self esteem convinced you that reaching out to a person like Joe was asking for embarrassment.

“So what now?” The rough exterior melted, revealing the vulnerable little girl inside that just wanted a boy to like her back.

“Well, that’s up to you,” he shrugged.

Not necessarily the answer you wanted. You just stared him down until he said more things.

“If it was just a drunken kiss, I understand. We’ll never speak of it again. We’ll keep things professional.”

“And if it wasn’t?” You murmured while making sure to avoid eye contact lest you be made a fool of for saying that.

“If it wasn’t… I’d like you to have dinner with me," he blushed. "Some time. If you… I dunno if you have free time- Well, of course you have free time, but I meant- If you want to have dinner,” he stammered and stuttered.

“I’d love to.”

Joe sighed in relief. “Great. Do you like Italian?” He smiled a bashful, closed lipped smile and it made the corners of his big, brown eyes crinkle.

“I love Italian.”

“I know a spot in the lower east side near Ludlow. Friday at eight? I’ll pick you up if you like.” God, his eyes.

The submissive in you wished he would stop worrying about what you like and make you do what he liked. The romantic in you found his sheepishness so charming.

“I’d like that,” you beamed.

Taglist: @thefrontofmymind, @bejeweled13swiftie