#it forces me take a step back and breathe before i start throwing things outta the window

[westaysilly]

i feel like some of you people dont even know the guy

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Carrying the Banner Chapter 3: The Attack- Albert DaSilva x Gemma Hayes

Word Count: 2.7k

The sun beat down on Newsies Square as the group of chanting boys (and a single girl) approached the gates which now swung open revealing Oscar, Morris and Wiesel. The strike had been going on for hours and it seemed that the Delanceys had finally had enough. Oscar targeted Albert as he stepped out. 

“Get outta here! Ruinin’ our business, what’s the matter with you?!” He shouted, shoving him by the shoulders. Morris, meanwhile, had his eyes on Gemma. He grabbed her by the collar, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes as he got in her face. 

“Scram, street rat,” he hissed before throwing her down to the ground aggressively, causing a commotion amongst the boys. They didn’t appreciate the girl they saw as their sister being treated like that. Gemma landed on the ground with a small grunt, though she didn’t stay down long. As soon as she was on her feet she was already throwing a punch straight to Morris’ nose. She was never one to start a fight but she’d be damned if she wasn’t gonna finish it. 

“I think it’s time these kids learned a lesson,” Wiesel said, snapping his fingers. Almost as if on cue, several goons appeared behind him, all rearing to fight. And just like that, chaos broke loose in the square as a full on brawl erupted between the boys and the goons, their shouts echoing throughout the streets. 

Albert attempted to take a swing at Oscar, but the Delancey boy was faster. He punched Albert in the face, causing him to fall back. Once he was on the ground Oscar delivered a swift kick to the boy’s stomach before casually stepping over him to go in on another newsie. Gemma looked back at Albert worriedly, which ended up being her downfall. Morris had used her distracted state to his advantage, throwing a quick punch to her face before kicking at her legs until she fell to the ground. Rather than move on like his brother at first, his hands went around Gemma’s neck, squeezing so hard she nearly blacked out. Thankfully he didn’t seem to be in the business of killing someone today, so he quickly moved on. There she laid, trying to catch her breath, when she heard a loud whistle blow from behind the newsies. It was the bulls. Romeo ran up to them, bleeding and out of breath. 

“It’s about time you showed up, they’re slaughtering us!” He shouted exasperatedly, but was immediately struck down by the bull’s baton, warranting a scream from Les. 

“Cheese it fellas! It’s the bulls!” Jack shouted, running for a fire escape. Panic shot through Gemma and she was on her feet within seconds, trying to yank Albert. The last thing she needed was for either of them to get caught. 

“Come on Al,” she yelled frantically. Albert scrambled to his feet with a groan before running after her, hand still in hers. Though Gemma was running as fast as she could, the kicks to her legs were starting to weigh on her and she began to slow down. Albert, still high on the adrenaline, swooped her up and continued on, not stopping until they reached the safety of their lodging home. 

“Are- Are you okay?” Gemma asked worriedly, cupping his cheek to turn him to look at her. Blood poured from the boy’s nose and he had a cut across his cheek. He disregarded her question, however, when he noticed her state. Like him, she also had a cut on her cheek from Morris’ ring to go with the bruise starting to form on her face. 

“Oh man they really got you,” he muttered, touching her bruise ever so gently with his thumb. Gemma flinched away just a bit, then shook her head. 

 “Me? I’m more worried about you,” she muttered, wiggling out of his grip to grab a rag to stop the nosebleed. 

“I’m fine, I probably just look bad,” he refuted with a small laugh as he looked down at his blood soaked shirt. As she walked back over to him he tilted his head downwards a bit to get a good look at her face. 

“You got hit real hard back there,” he continued, much softer this time.

“It looks a lot worse than it feels,” she lied straight through her teeth as she pressed the rag to his nose as carefully as she could. Albert winced, closing his eyes and gripping onto her arm for a moment then opening them and laughing. 

“You’re a big fat liar.”

“I’m fine,” she continued to brush off. Rather than answer the boy merely pulled back from her to take off his shirt, pressing it gently to her bleeding cheek.

“Uh huh,” he responded amusedly. Gemma blushed profusely, quickly averting her gaze from his now bare torso. 

She had no idea the exact moment her feelings for him had switched from platonic to romantic, but she was truly head over heels for him at this point. The little things he did always managed to fluster her. But she knew that the likelihood of him ever returning those feelings were few and far between, so she was content where she was with him. Right now, though, she was starting to question that. 

“Like you’re any better,” she retorted once she gathered her bearings. 

“A little bit, at least I’ll admit that I’m hurtin’ pretty bad right now,” he shrugged, turning her chin with his finger so he could look at the cut properly. 

“And yet here you are, not letting me help you” she half joked. Albert hummed softly before responding. 

“I’ll let you help me if you admit that you’re busted up and let me help you,” he compromised. Gemma sighed softly, remaining silent for a moment before looking down. After yet another minute or so she carefully tilted her chin up, revealing a large bruise in the shape of a hand that covered nearly the entire front of her neck as well as a small indent from the ring Morris was wearing. The boy stared at her neck in shock, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to cry for her. His gaze was only broken when she spoke again. 

“It hurts,” she whispered, trying not to tear up at the memory of Morris’ hands around her neck. Until that point she’d been attempting to conceal the fact that her voice had become hoarse, but she saw no need in hiding it at this point. And with that, Albert jumped to action, leading her to her bunk to sit down. 

“I’m gonna get you some ice,” he informed her, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly and disappearing into the kitchen for a moment. It only took a moment before he returned with an ice pack wrapped up in a rag. The girl remained seated in silence, barely taking her eyes off the floor as she fiddled with her fingers absentmindedly. Her mind continually ran over the events of what happened today, practically consuming her. How could things have gone so bad so quickly for them? 

“Hey,” Albert’s soft voice broke through her thoughts. The boy crouched down and ducked into her vision to rid her of whatever she was thinking. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers, smiling kindly and setting a hand on her knee. “I’m here, it’s all good.” At first Gemma flinched away from his touch before remembering that it’s just Albert- her Albert, and she relaxed. She smiled weakly at him and nodded.

“I know,” she whispered hoarsely. 

“Save your voice, I know how much that hurts. Race choked me out for taking his cigar once till I passed out,” he muttered with a soft laugh as he rolled the ice pack in his hands one last time to make sure it’s not too cold before giving her a sympathetic look. “This might hurt for a second, but I promise it’ll make it feel better.” 

With that, he took one of her hands so she could let the pain out on him, using his other hand to press the ice pack to her neck as gently as he could. She inhaled sharply and squeezed his hand tightly. God did it hurt. She bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut, trying not to cry. She could practically feel Albert’s pained gaze on her, and he squeezed her hand gently. A sign of reassurance. 

“I know, I know Gemma” he whispered. “I’m just gonna hold this here for a minute, okay?”

“Okay” she whispered, voice trembling ever so slightly.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised, holding it on for a few moments longer, then pulling it back to look at it. “Swelling is going down, you are such a tough cookie, gemstone.” He pressed the ice pack back to her cheek once again. 

“Hold that there and I’ll run you a bath,  yeah? Then I’ll make your bed and you can get some rest.” Gemma nodded and carefully covered his hand that held the rag to her throat, pressing down light enough for him to be able to slip his hand out from under hers 

“Thank you Albert.” The boy merely smiled at her before standing and walking to the bathroom. He kept the door open as he turned on the water in the tub. 

“You know- I can’t believe how brave you are. You volunteered us to go to Staten then we immediately went to Brooklyn. They oughta put us in the papes or somethin, we’re like war heroes.” The two of them shared a laugh at that, and Gemma shook her head amusedly. 

“I better get a veteran’s discount,” she joked. 

“Yeah, because two cents for a glass of seltzer is a scam,” he reiterated, sticking his hand into the water as it gets full before standing, flicking the water off of his hand and turning off the water. 

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” She giggled, slightly wincing afterwards before returning to normal. 

“Nope,” he responded simply as he stepped out of the bathroom, setting out a fresh towel for her on the way out. “Go ahead and get yourself cleaned up.” The girl couldn’t help but smile at him as she stood, setting the ice pack down and gingerly moving past him to get into the bathroom. Albert returned the smile. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he instructed softly, waiting for her to nod before he moved towards her bed, getting it ready for her. 

Gemma ended up staying in the bath until the water got cold. She spent quite a bit of time yet again going over the events of what happened. Every time she found a bruise or scratch she had a memory of what happened during the fight. She almost spiraled several times, but when that happened she would remember where she was, and Albert was just in the other room waiting for her. 

When she finally got out of the bath she drained it then got dressed, walking back into the bunk area. By that point Albert had cleaned himself up as much as he could (which wasn’t actually that much as he had no mirror to see himself) and had changed into his pajamas. Upon hearing the door open he turned and smiled at her. 

“Feel a little better?” The girl shot him a weak smile and  she nodded as she walked over to him.  

“Your bruises are already lookin’ less swollen, ice tonight and heat tomorrow, you’ll be good as new in no time,” he muttered once she was close enough, cupping her face as he examined her.

“Yes, Dr. Albert,” she joked, earning a lazy smile from the boy. 

“You did good out there today. I know I said it already but I’m proud of you,” he repeated, kissing her forehead. “You’re probably exhausted, you poor thing.” Gemma couldn’t help but giggle as she nodded. 

“Yeah, I think I just wanna sleep right now,” she admitted softly. Albert nodded, pulling away from her to pull back the covers of her bed. She laid down, taking a moment to get settled before looking at him. 

“Lay with me?” She asked hopefully. The boy paused for a moment, almost as if unsure if he had heard her correctly. His cheeks turned a little red as he climbed into the bed beside her and laid out his arms for her to get close, which she did. She scooted closer to him, laying her head on his arm. 

“We’ve been friends for years, don’t tell me you’re still shy about sharing a bed,” she teased gently. Albert laughed a little, though the girl could practically feel his heart pounding inside his chest. 

“Just a little bit,” he admitted breathlessly. “You still make me nervous sometimes, gemstone.”

“Really?” She asked, somewhat surprised. “Why?” 

Her question was met with silence at first. Albert had to take a moment to consider whether or not he wanted to tell her what he had been longing to tell her for years. He took a slightly shaky breath in.

“Because I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted quietly, almost inaudibly if Gemma had been just the tiniest bit louder. For a moment she just stared at him in shock, then she laughed weakly. This was a joke, of course it was. Things like this didn’t happen outside of fairy tales or moving pictures. 

“It’s not nice to joke like that Albert,” she whispered, mad at her heart for playing such a cruel trick as thinking Albert would actually love her. “It hurts my feelings.” Albert’s heart dropped at her response and he shook his head quickly. He sat up, forcing his arm out from under the girl’s head as he stared down at her. 

“I’m not-” he paused, taking another breath. “I’m not messing with you, Gemma.” The girl propped herself up on her elbow, staring at him hesitantly. 

“Albert DaSilva, I have been in love with you for years, so if this is some elaborate joke…” 

Rather than answer her, the boy gazed at her for a few thoughtful moments, his mouth slightly ajar. Then, he did something Gemma hadn’t been expecting. Without a word he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. The girl was surprised by the gesture, but she couldn’t help but kiss back. She sat up, allowing one of her hands to press against the back of his neck as her eyes fell closed. She felt his shoulders relax under her touch, any tension in them slipping away. The feeling made her smile into the kiss as she took his free hand in hers. 

After a bit she finally managed to pull away from him for air, her forehead resting against his. Her eyes were still closed, too afraid that this would be some cruel dream. Albert’s eyes opened when he felt her pull away. His breathing was heavy and he was a bright shade of red, a reckless grin on his face. Despite the fact that her eyes were closed, Gemma could practically feel his smile, which in turn made her smile. 

“Please don’t let this be a dream.” she whispered, hesitantly opening her eyes to look into his. In return he gently kissed all around her face, unable to wipe the smile off of his as he held her by the waist. The girl giggled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck before falling back onto the bed, pulling her with him until he was somewhat laying on her. Albert grinned and propped himself up on his elbows, letting out a laugh of relief. 

“God I’ve waited so long for that.”

I know the feeling,” she muttered softly, running her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. The boy stared down at her with a look of unconditional love, which made her blush. She grinned and leaned up a bit to peck his lips. 

“We should probably get some sleep,” she said quietly. Albert nodded, rolling beside her and pulling her closer by her waist. 

“You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” she joked as she laid her head on his chest. “G’night Albert.” The boy pressed a kiss to her forehead before responding. 

“Goodnight, gemstone.

[hitnran]

OBSESSIVE EX (gender neutral! reader)

how they deal with you having an obsessive ex

includes: ran, rindou

CW: obsessive behavior, cursing, stalking (ran), phone harassment (rindou), the haitani brothers lowkey kinda scary here (not to the reader) 💀 but i’m just trying to make it fit within their character

— RAN HAITANI

Getting into a relationship with someone like Ran, half of the charismatic brother duo that ruled Roppongi, almost means guaranteed safety wherever you go. His title itself is one that is feared when murmured. Whenever you two leave, he always has an eye and a hand on you. Ran knows well that even if he is feared, he can also be challenged and the last thing he wants is for you to get involved — you would make an easy target for his enemies.

You two were out together on a stroll around the city. Although there was nothing neither of you needed, Ran’s favorite thing is showing you off. Sometimes you start to feel similar to his younger brother, thinking that you’re just a shadow and only known as ‘Ran’s partner.’ But Ran’s intentions were opposite. He wanted everyone to know that it was him that belonged to you and it is him that people would have to deal with if you were ever tested.

As you two are walking, Ran noticed your eyes consistently checking itself to the side. He took note of that and eventually brushed it off since you stopped. But then he noticed that you were being especially keen and scanning the whole area.

“Are you okay, love?” Ran slightly hunches down, getting your attention as your face turns his way. He lightly smiles at you. “Did you see something you liked?”

You swallowed down hard. You could’ve sworn you saw a familiar face, but after trying to scan the area numerous times for the past few minutes, you thought it was just you being paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to worry Ran and cause a scene.

“I’m okay,” You shook your head, returning a light smile. You grabbed on his arm, this time a little tighter. “Let’s turn into this corner.”

Ran knows when you’re lying. He knew something made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to force you to tell him. Instead, he’ll make it his own problem too and deal with it himself.

This area was his territory and everyone knew it. It was almost as if Roppongi, a city known for liveliness, calmed down ever so slightly if one or both of the brothers were out. Everyone’s gaze wound be kept low and their conversations would go mute as they walk by.

At that moment, Ran could feel a pair of eyes staring your way. He won’t make it obvious though.

“Love,” Ran called out to you. You looked up his direction and he placed a hand against your lower back. “Rindou’s gonna throw a fit if I don’t bring back food for him. How about you go into the restaurant and order first while I call him and ask what he wants?”

You felt at ease hearing that you two were finally going to be in somewhere indoors, but it made you nervous that he would be separated from you for just a little while.

“Don’t wanna bring something back he won’t like and have him complain,” Ran lightly laughed, trying to ease your clear discomfort. He placed a hand over your head. Taking out his phone to add to his act. “I’ll be quick.”

After some hesitation, you gave in. It was a public space after all, so it shouldn’t have been anything to worry too much about. He watched as you entered the place before turning around, sending chills to the person who had been following you two around this whole time.

“Would be a shame if I left them alone for too long, wouldn’t it?” Ran gave off a sinister grin, slowly walking towards the person. “Wouldn’t want anyone to take them away…especially someone like you.”

Ran knew who this person was. He was an obsessive ex of yours that just would not leave you alone and accept the separation despite it being years passed. He gulped hard, nervously stepping back, not thinking that he would get caught.

“You were so bold to even follow us in the first place, why so shy now?” Ran smirked, hiking up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “This is the first time you’ve heard of me or something? I should introduce myself to you well and hard then.”

Almost ten minutes had passed since you’ve been waiting for Ran. You sat patiently and waited. Your best guess as to what’s taking him so long revolves around Rindou. Maybe he was complaining about how he wanted food from a different place or being picky about menu opinions. Just as you were about to raise yourself from your seat to check up on Ran, you saw him enter.

“Did I make you wait too long?” Ran appeared, seating himself in front of you. The worse case scenario you had in mind was that he got into a fight, but in front of you, he looked just as how you last saw him. “You know how Rindou is.”

Your chest became relaxed and you gave a small smile, shaking your head, “What did he want from here?”

“I didn’t even listen to what he said,” Ran teased, opening up his menu and leaning back against the chair. You felt his legs sandwich your calves from beneath the table. “He can order it himself. All my money is going to you today.”

And that was how Ran liked it. Although Ran wanted everyone to know that he belonged to you, he knew how important it was for others to know that you belonged to him too. The image of the face of your ex is burned so clearly into his brain — face all bloodied up, mauled almost, as he failed to even whisper for forgiveness.

“I think there’s only one way I’m gonna let you outta here alive,” Ran kicked his body down with force, hearing something shift in his jaw. He couldn’t give half a damn about it. “Do you know what that is?”

Your ex was visibly beaten and weak now, barely able to even blink or properly form a sentence. Though, with his adam’s apple slightly moving from fear, Ran took it as a response.

Grabbing him by his hair upward, Ran bent down, looking straight at him, “You’re gonna leave them alone and never show your goddamn face again. If it wasn’t fucked already before, it sure is now. I promise you I’ll know if you’re even barely visible or a mile away, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Ran thought it was so disgusting how someone like you could ever have your time wasted on someone low like this ex of yours. Even if Ran saw him and his brother above everyone else, he always put you above him.

“Maybe even after this, I’ll send one of my men to go and beat the shit out of you every day so you could suffer for as long as you’ve tried to bother Y/N.”

— RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou can’t even remember what it took for you two to even reach this state of your guys relationship. He convinced himself that it was Ran, his older brother who wouldn’t shut up about how he was going to take you if Rindou didn’t make a move.

It genuinely surprises himself even whenever he looks your way, observing every detail and soaking in the idea that you are someone he can call his.

You two were watching a movie, or rather, supposed to. Rindou was too focused on side-eyeing you every now and then. You caught him a few times, but he would brush it off with comments like “this movie is boring” or “I’m just checking to see if you fell asleep.”

He would snap himself out of a trance after hearing your phone ring beside you. You eyed it once, looking at the caller ID and ignoring it. It wasn’t enough to cause Rindou to worry - it’s not his problem if you just didn’t wanna answer a call, it was your guys’ time anyway.

But then it rang once more again. Your ringtone dragged itself out halfway through before Rindou slightly raised his hand from your hip, pointing to the phone on the side of the couch.

“You not gonna answer that?” He asked.

You shook your head, eyes focused on the TV, “It’s fine. It’s an unknown caller ID.”

Rindou shrugged, ignoring it once again, but after a few more calls and your phone receiving back to back text messages, it was starting to irk him. He was close to just grabbing your phone and answering the call himself, but you were quick to act before him, just shutting it off.

“It must be spam or something,” You sighed, sitting back down.

“Yeah, well whatever it is, good thing you shut that damn thing off. That shit was annoying,” Rindou sighed, curling his arms around you again. “Let’s change the movie too or something. This one is boring.”

One thing about dating Rindou is that he seems uninterested in absolutely everything he does. Although you avoid thinking like that when it comes to your relationship with him, you always remind yourself that Rindou is someone who deeply cares for you. He shows it very differently compared to others, but you know.

He can recall a memory from a few weeks ago where you kept getting calls in the middle of your guys’ date. It annoyed him, but not as much as it annoyed you. You’ve pressed the red decline button at least five times now, stressing over it and spilling out everything about your previous ex.

At the end of your rant, Rindou grabbed your phone, picking up the call and saying words as simple as “leave them alone.” It was so simple, but for the next few weeks, it was silent. You finally thought you were free of harassment thanks to your boyfriend, but recently, they’ve been coming back as unknown caller IDs and more frequent than before.

Halfway through the movie, Rindou felt your body become more loose and relaxed beneath him. Your breath became slower and more steady. You had fallen asleep. He thought it was ironic to have someone as angelic as you in the arms of someone like him - a gang member always involving himself in trouble, even just for fun.

He stared at your phone just a reach away and then back at you. The last thing Rindou wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or really, anything that isn’t where you aren’t happy.

When you woke up, the TV was shut off and you felt a blanket drape over your body. You realized you had fallen asleep from earlier, but you were expecting to find your boyfriend with you as well. That was when the door swung open and you were greeted with Rindou.

“Rindou?” You slowly let out, still adjusting from waking up. “I didn’t know you left.”

He raised a bag up midway in the air, it’s a bag from a bakery you often bought from, “You kept murmuring about it in your sleep. Didn’t want you to wake up all grumpy.”

“I don’t wake up grumpy!” You protested, watching as he took his seat next to you and unpacking all of your favorites.

“Yeah, okay,” Rindou joked. He listened to you puffing out before wrapping yourself around his arm.

“Thank you though,” You murmured out of embarrassment - maybe he was half right.

“It’s nothing,” He replied, softening his face into a grin. “Must’ve been hungry though if it got you talking in your sleep and drooling on my arm.”

You didn’t even know about half of the things he does for you, but he didn’t mind it, because if you were happy, then that was all that mattered.

It made Rindou feel guilty to turn on your phone and look through it. It wasn’t something that he ever felt the need to do - he trusted you and it felt wrong if you weren’t aware that he was using it. Though, at this time, he felt like it was for the better.

While you were silently sleeping, he browsed through your texts. It’s that same person - your ex back again to bother you. Rindou scoffed, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up, but he was angry. He clicked his tongue whilst composing a message.

Rindou knew you would never be so stupid as to meet up with someone like this, especially not after already experiencing it once. It was a good thing that it was just Rindou posing as you though. How delighted your ex felt to have finally received a response to you - ‘Let’s meet up here.’

Rindou thought it was so pathetic. This guy had no idea what he looked like, let alone that you even had a boyfriend. So when Rindou’s immediate reaction upon seeing him was to throw a punch, he was shocked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Your ex cried out, trying his best to dodge his attacks but failing in between his words and attempts.

“Me?!” Rindou snapped, pushing him to the ground and twisting his arms. “Speak for yourself.”

The man beneath him screamed in pain, “I-I’ll call the cops on you and have you arrested!”

“Yeah? You think they’ll give me less time if I tell them I was just trying to teach a creep a lesson?” Rindou pulled back on his arms a little harder, tendons and muscles stretching themselves out of place.

“T-The hell are you talking about?!” He stuttered out.

“Don’t bitch around. Might end yourself up in there if you keep this act of yours up - I’ve been once before,” Rindou smirked, pulling back more and more on his arms. “It was fine for me. My big bro and I even got some respect while in there, so what’s gonna happen when they hear about your name from me? You’re fresh meat to them.”

“W-Who even are you?!”

Rindou scoffed, “The same guy who warned you once to leave Y/N alone. I should’ve honestly went to find you myself personally and beat the shit out of you, but I hate wasting my time.”

Your boyfriend let the man go. If his arms weren’t all bent out of place and dislocated, he’d be crawling away by now. It was a sight that Rindou would laugh at. Upon seeing that his phone had fallen out of his pocket, the same phone used to consistently harass you, Rindou stomped down hard, breaking it into bits and pieces.

“Don’t waste my time again. Next time you do, call the cops, I promise you I won’t care if they catch me killing you,” Rindou turned his back around.

[eddies-perm]

Hey M! Recent follower, lover of your work! I was looking at the prompt lists you posted and I am thirsting HARD over the idea of moving in with a domestic Eddie & breaking in the new apartment holy SMOKES

𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 ����𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

hi there love! thank you & thanks so much for submitting this, ughhh I love this concept.

warnings: smut!!, some dirty talk, unprotected P in V, creampie.

send me more thoughts! my inbox is always open :)

almost as soon as you drop the last moving box on the floor, he's on you. 

“mm, mmm -- eds, what are you -- mmm.”

“we gotta break in the new place, baby,” he hums against your lips. “gotta fuck in every room in the house. I don’t make the rules, it’s just standard protocol.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “you’re a weirdo.”

“I believe the word you’re looking for here is freak,” he smiles, pulling you closer and walking you back towards the kitchen counter. “both in and out of the bed.”

“that’s for sure.”

he pushes you up against the kitchen drawers, hands squeezing your hips. “I say we break in the kitchen first...what say you?”

wordlessly, you get up on the countertop and settle on the edge, a small smirk on your face. “let’s do it.”

eddie springs into action, quickly kissing at your throat while he yanks your shorts and panties down, throwing them on the floor without a care. his handcuff belt and ripped black jeans quickly follow.

you hum, chewing your lip as he reaches in his boxers and begins stroking himself, mouth moving over your neck, kissing and licking and sucking marks onto your skin all along the way.

“c’mon eds, don’t tease me,” you whine. “you’ve got me worked up enough as it is already.”

he smirks, laughing softly. “aww, poor thing, all worked up with no one to take care of you.”

you roll your eyes.  “you’re mean.”

eddie steps back for a sec and looks at you, head tilting to the side. your eyebrows furrow.

“hm...mmm mmm. this won’t do.” he suddenly grabs your hips and turns you over so that your front is now pressed down on the counter. he hums. “much better.”

before you can say anything, he’s pressing his cock up against your entrance and thrusting in quickly, grunting as he does so. you moan softly, legs instinctively spreading wider to take him.

“goddamnit, you’re so wet,” he groans softly, beginning to move his hips. “mmm...such a good little pussy...”

“fuck eds, mmmmm.”

his hips steadily pick up their pace until he’s rutting into you quickly, desperately. you’re moaning and whimpering with each sharp motion, the tingling within your core growing more intense as he goes on. 

he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you back, forcing your back to arch. the sudden action earns him a loud gasp from you and his lips pull up in a small smirk as his other hand grips your hips tightly.

“o-oh fuck! fffuck baby!” you whine loudly, jaw slacked with pleasure. “just like that eddie, keep going just like that, ‘m gonna cum...”

your words only encourage him further and his grip on your hair tightens as he leans down until his lips are level with your ear.

“yeah? you gonna coat my cock in those sweet juices of yours baby? you gonna squeeze me when you cum, pull the jizz right outta me with this tight cunt of yours?”

“mmm! mmhmm!” you moan, already starting to clench around him. you’re so close, you just need that one thing to tip you over the edge--

he lifts one of your legs up onto the counter, allowing his cock to reach deeper points inside you, and you’re coming seconds later. you cry out softly, walls spasming and clenching in a frenzy. 

“jesus h. christ--” eddie cums only moments after you, hips pausing and cock pressing as far inside you as it can while he releases. “ohhhh fuuuuuuck...”

you let out a small whimper at the feeling of his spend inside you. he starts thrusting again, slower this time, taking you both through your respective climaxes. 

once you’ve both taken a minute to catch your breaths, eddie pulls out slowly and watches as his creamy seed slips out and drips onto the floor. he groans softly at the sight, tucking himself back into his boxers.

he kisses all along your shoulders and upper spine, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth the entire time. you roll back over and pull him in for a kiss on the lips, running your fingers through his long hair.

“mmm, I think the kitchen has officially been broken in.”

eddie laughs breathily, kissing you again.

“only four more rooms to go.”

~ masterlist ~

[fangirl--writes]

A Dance. Jeremiah Valeska x Reader

 AN: Hello!  Long Time no see huh? I have started writing again and what better way to start than with the softest boi! 

Link to the song the Reader plays: https://youtu.be/pIgZ7gMze7A

Let me know what you think and if there should be a part two?? 

I was aiming this is right before and during S04/E17 

*****************************************************************

It was still.

Soundless suave from the occasional tick of the old hands of the grandfather clock placed elegantly in the corner of the spacious room.  Dust was gathering on the table tops; you had been ignoring it for about a week or so.

Sometimes it gets to him-

Sometimes.

Your significant other, Xander Wilde.

Lately he’d been holing himself in his office, or on a conference call with his associates.

The stoic, ginger haired man was busy, you understood this.

Owning your own company was a lot.

Your leg began to bounce softly off the edge of your cushioned chair, tapping against the plush fabric to a rhythm familiar as you turned the next page in your book.

He was busy sure- but he made time for you.

Dinners, take out naturally delivered by his proxy.  Movie nights, occasionally spent curled up on the couch that now sat neglected on the other side of the room.

Your favorite however; was the times he’d flip on the record player; the corner of his lip would twinge in the faintest of grins. His knowing grin as you called it, he’d usually flash one as he selected the music for your dance.

Xander’s ocean eyes would drift over to you, peeking from over the top of his glasses as the record would start sending you into a near giggle fit every time.

He’d reach out, sweep you off your feet and gently glide around the room in an endless nonsensical pattern. His hand was on your waist as he led you in an imaginary waltz, pulling you ever so close your noses nearly touched.

He was different then, his face would drop into his rare soft grin and his eyes, you would dare say light up watching you. Your hands crawling up his shoulder and gliding down to hold his to hold him closer.

You’d lay your head on his chest and let the world, the worries, the work go.

It was nothing when you carelessly stepped across the carpeted living room, twirling about without a care in the world.  

You took a breath marking the page in your book.  You’d reached out to his proxy, and requested a new record, something with a little more…kick.

Well, new was perhaps not the right term but kick, definitely yes.

You rose from your plush chair, stretching your back as you set the book down. Your eyes laid on the solid wooden door that separated you from your beloved.

If layers of dust and neglected dishes piled in the sink wouldn’t make him see you, perhaps this would.

With a careful hand you spun the vinyl. The cover was worn and slightly tattered from use, you inspected it momentarily before pulling out the record. Gently you laid it on the turntable, setting into place before slinking over to the door.

You sucked in a breath as you paused hesitant at the door.

“Xander?” his name tumbled from your mouth as you rasped against the heavy wood.

No response.

Perhaps he didn’t hear you.

Again, you knocked calling his name louder.

Silence met your reserve as you let out a small huff, impatient.

The wheels turned in your head as you stared into empty space. A soft smile twitched on the corner of your lips.

Working is one thing, but ignoring you is another.

With narrowed eyes you strode back to the turntable, with a flick of your wrist you switched it on eyes darting back to the door again, just in case.

Gently you pushed the dial for the volume, going about as high as it could before setting the needle down to put your plan in motion.

The smooth instrumentals sent your body swaying as the music blared through the den.

You shifted the weight in your heels as you twisted about keeping a watchful eye on the door.

The music swept through the room, sending you into a state as your mind focused on the beat.  

You put the boom-boom into my heart

You send my soul sky-high

When your lovin' starts

You swept around the furniture spinning and twirling around aimlessly, singing as loudly as you could manage. No longer was the warm reserved space a living room, melting away in your mind’s eye to stage, open and wide just for you. The soft lamp lighting transformed to bright spot lights that strobed the walls.

Jitterbug into my brain

Goes a bang-bang-bang

‘Til my feet do the same

The words fell from your mouth as if on cue, your chest heaving as you shouted out into the invisible crowd.

You didn’t notice as the door to Xander’s study cracked open, his face twisted into a disgruntled sneer as he looked out into the living room, annoyed his work flow was interrupted.  The walls were shaking. His concentration broken as the acescent rumbling pounded through the door.  His chest tightened as he prepared to scold you for being so loud.

His brows rose into a curious arch as he caught sight of your form twirling about. Your nose wrinkled as your face contorted fixated on the words as you sang blissfully unaware of his presence.

For a split second he contemplated turning the music down, alerting you to his presence and going back to his work, those thoughts were quickly discarded as he found himself rooted in place eyes glued to you.

He leaned against the wooden frame, mouth still agape as his eyes followed your enraptured movements, you were so enthralling, the way your hips swayed and your body danced about, wrapped in your own little world.

You take the grey skies outta’ my waay

You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day

You turned a bright spark into a flame

My beats per minute never been the same

You were singing… about him.

Xander felt his body tense, his dark brows furrowed in thought. Recently, he’d been neglecting you for his most recent project. He’d skipped dinners taking them in his office, or not eating at all, working so late into the night that he’d come out and find you curled up on the couch, the book you were reading hanging loosely in your hand or fallen forgotten on the floor.  

Each time his heart panged with regret, yet, he still overlooked you…

After all this time, you still cared about him. He noticed when you set out meals for him lovingly wrapped up with a hand written note or brewed coffee before you fell asleep. His eyes fell to the table and the dust that was layered on its surface… usually the two of you would clean together. An activity that calmed you both, a menial task. But one that was fun when he was with you, the way you’d turn dusting or dishes into a game or just a time to reflect and enjoy.

He admired you, finding your sense of wonder and forever finding joy in something so small endearing.

As if on their own, he felt his body throw its self forward his feet following suit. He reached for your hand; his face flushed as he took hold of your wrist, your eyes opening in realization.

“X..Xander…” his name was soft on your lips as you peered up at him.

Your eyes sending him into a flustered frenzy he moved to spin you, trying to match the rhythm as he tottered with the music.

This wasn’t the type he was used to; the soft melodies of classical were typical in your shared home, gentle waltzing that was slow and simple.

You giggled as he clumsily danced with you, his fingers laced with yours as he awkwardly watched his feet as not to step on you. Your fingertips softly lifted his chin to meet your bright gaze, wordlessly you beckoned him to follow you.  He sucked down a needed breath copying your motions, quickly coming in to his own as he spun you in his arms.

His blush faded as he moved with you, eyes settling on your face. He felt his cheeks crack as a faint line of a smile graced his lips. Xander cherished these moments with you, savored them, however; he couldn’t force back the slivers of voices whispering in his ears.

Fraud

If only she knew the real you…

She wouldn’t be dancing cheek to cheek with a monster...

 Your head tipped as your lover stared ahead aimlessly his blue eyes faded behind his glasses. His chest steadily falling in shallow breathes as his grip loosened on your hands.

You been through so many of these with him, they’d become more frequent in recent months and you couldn’t figure out why.

Gently you pushed yourself against his chest as you caressed his cheek with the pad of your thumb, gingerly reaching to press your forehead against his.

He shifted under your hand, sweeping his arm to your waist to pull you closer as his eyes closed as he basked in your touch.

“Darling…”

His voice was barely a whisper as he pressed into your hand.

“I… need to

 “Sir-

The urgent voice of his proxy pulled his head away from yours. Your eyes flickered to her rigid form in the door way to the labyrinth.

Immediately Xander straightened himself. Your hand falling to the way side as you took a step back.

He took a in cool breath, collecting his thoughts as he adjusted his suit jacket. His calculated eyes turned to you again; a look of faint concern etched on his face.

Xander’s tone shifted.

“Ecco take Y/N to our room.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion, rather a command.

His hands reached to squeeze yours in some attempt to soothe you as he stepped closer. 

The woman in the door way quickly made a move towards you.

“What’s going on?” Your voice hitched in your throat as you spoke, gaze bouncing confused between the two figures.

“Xander, Please-

You spoke again, voice cracked with worry as Ecco touched your arm nodding to her boss.

His eyes were downcast, his gaze going past you to the floor as his head shook softly. He pulled away swiftly moving past you before you could latch on to him.

“Ecco will keep you safe.”

The young blonde pursed her lips as her grip tightened, her voice was hard as she pulled you from your spot on the floor.

“Come with me miss.”

“Xander Wilde-

Your feet were firm as you rooted yourself down; your voice was harsh as you called after him again.

You will tell me what is going on!”

He paused just before he slipped away from view, your tone causing him to freeze; hesitating only for a mere moment before continuing on his way his eyes front.

You felt weak as he vanished down the slinking hallways of the maze.

 Ecco tugged at your arm, now half dragging you along as she led you away from the den. Your eyes glued to the spot where he stopped, hoping he’d come back for you.

The record was forgotten now, music long over. The needle scratching endlessly in the silence of your screams, a faint memory of what was only an hour ago. You were blissfully unaware then, completely and utterly clueless to how your life would burn in the turmoil of what was coming.

tag list: @valeskaduh @seldomabsent @violentvaleska @fuwa-fuwa-yandere

If anyone else would like to be on the list just drop a comment down below!

[beskarhearts]

Tangled (Javier Peña x reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x gn!reader

Word count: over

Warnings: lots of cursing (reader has the mouth of a sailor), a little ~steaminess~, mentions of canon typical violence/getting shot, sexual tension

Summary: You and Peña were no strangers to being at each others throats but this argument went a little different than any other had.

Notes: This was cliche and self indulgent but I loved it and I hope you do too. Let me know your thoughts and opinions!! (also probably not going to turn this into a series but it isn't impossible ig)

________________

You charged towards the file room, feeling every ounce of your body flooded with anger as Murphy trailed after you, pitifully trying the stop the damage that was just about to occur.

"It didn't come from a bad place!"

You sporadically came to a halt, turning on your heels and pointing a finger right in Murphy's face, who had nearly crashed into you at your sudden movement. "Don't you dare try to justify this!"

Murphy's face was crumpled into a hesitant type of acceptance, still following you as you continued walking towards the file room, your anger radiating even in each harsh step you took. Once you reached the door, you slammed it open and nearly crashed it into Murphy as you threw it shut again, your eyes trained on the man you were directing every angry, foul thought at.

"Javier Peña, you fucking asshole!" you yelled, your pointer finger now directed at him as he turned to face you. You felt even angrier when he appeared to look at you tiredly at first, face twisted into an expression that perfectly read 'What now?' It didn't change until he registered your rigid body language and the way your face was a shade darker and your brows that were scrunched up.

Then his face dropped slightly and he looked over your shoulder at Murphy, who looked like a kicked puppy with the way he seemed to cower behind you. "You told her?"

Murphy winced slightly, trying to shrug away his concerns but his voice coming out empathetic. "She kind of interrogated me."

"Yeah. Y'know, because interrogations are part of the job!" you spat, eyes shooting venom at the brown-eyed DEA agent that stood in front of you.

He dropped the file he had held in his hand back in a box, placing his newly unoccupied hands on his hips and sending you a plain look. "Listen, it was nothing-"

"You know what else is part of my job, Peña?" you interrupted, allowing him no room to throw around pitiful remarks and false explanations of why what he did was okay. "Let me tell you since you have clearly forgotten: part of my job is catching the bad guys. Meaning I am fully capable of being on the field and getting my hands dirty!"

You took in a deep breath, your whole body feeling like it was on fire from the rage coursing through your veins. Peña let out a small sigh, rubbing at his face and his mustache as he looked at you through half-lidded eyes. "I know."

You let out an agitated huff, throwing your hands up and looking over at Murphy, as if saying 'get a load of this guy'. You turned back to the DEA agent, clasping your hands together. "Let me get this clear then. You are aware that is part of my job. And that this fucking case has become my whole entire life. Yet you neglect to notify me that tomorrow you are going to arrest one of these motherfuckers and don't put me on the God damn team!"

You probably should of quieted down. Surely people could hear you outside the thin walls of the room you were in but you paid no attention to that. Hell, let them gather outside the door and listen to how much of an asshole Javier fucking Peña was. It wasn't like they hadn't heard you two bicker and yell at each other before - it was practically a daily occurrence. You were always at each others throats and the smallest thing could tick you guys off but today was different. Today your anger was completely justified and directed at the exact right person.

"Why don't we all calm down and talk this over calmly?" Steve gently tried to suggest, always the voice of reason during times like these. Sometimes you would entertain his ideas but today was not one of those days.

"Fuck off, Murphy!" you snapped.

Peña redirected his attention to the blond-haired agent. "Give me a minute."

"Oh, you are going to try to magically explain this one away?" you ridiculed as Murphy left the room quietly, shutting the door gently and leaving you two alone.

Javier looked back at you, looking calm as ever and unaffected in every way. It only made your blood bubble even more and as he spoke, you felt your whole body clench up. "You need to calm down."

You hissed at that comment, literally hissed. "Oh, fuck off! You have no right to tell me to calm down. If somebody did this to you, you'd be tearing into their ass and acting like a bitch."

Javier couldn't argue that point, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that not only was it true, but there was no way he could convince you it wasn't. It also was probably the worst thing to say in this given situation, always was something that tipped you off.

"I mean, the fucking audacity you have is unbelievable. Truly impressive." you started to ramble, still sending a deadly glare his way. "You think you are hot shit because you are Javier Peña and you are a DEA agent and the fucking man whore of Columbia. But I am just as good as you, Peña. Hell, I am probably fucking better!"

"You are right."

You froze as you heard his agreement, biting your lip as you tried to detect whether or not that was meant to be some sarcastic play to rile you up. But it appeared genuine which only confused you further. "Then why am I being excluded from extremely important events?"

"It's dangerous." Peña answered plainly, adding no additional details as if that was enough.

You scoffed, tilting your head at him. "No shit, Peña. No offense but no one becomes a DEA agent because it is a safe, secure job. So that doesn't explain why I wasn't included in this."

Peña shook his head, leaning against the rack of files as he looked back at you. You wanted to force him to look away, his stare making you uncomfortable but there was no way you were backing down. "It does. This one is particularly dangerous and I don't want you involved."

Your eyes widened as you took in this new information. "Oh, so you think I can't handle myself?"

"I never said that-"

"I can handle myself, Peña. I am a fucking adult and not to sound cocky, but a hell of a fucking agent. I am capable and I am strong!"

"I know."

"And I can handle this mission."

"I know."

"Then why the fuck did I have to find out from Murphy that I am not joining you guys tomorrow?" you yelled, feeling your body become slightly fatigued from all the anger but you still stood straight and tall.

"Because you care too much and you'll get yourself killed if that means nailing these guys." Peña said plainly. No hint of emotion or manipulation. Just an honest answer to an honest question.

You found yourself for the first time not feeling angry but slight bamboozled. It felt like the rug had been pulled under your feet. You were standing across fucking Javier Peña, who you were pretty sure had never seen take a single day off. "That is the most hypocritical thing I've ever heard."

Peña nodded. "Okay."

You rolled your eyes, feeling once again angry by the dismissal. "Well fuck off because I spoke to everybody and I am on the team tomorrow."

You began to turn towards the exit when the man firmly stated, "No."

You turned back around, an eyebrow raised. "Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"I'm in charge tomorrow and you aren't on." Peña said, a sliver of annoyance eeking out of his words as he looked back at you with a stern glare.

"Fuck off. If I want to go, I'll go." you fired back, arms crossing over your chest defiantly.

Peña stepped closer to you until he was a couple feet away, his voice lowering to a menacingly deep level. "I don't want you on tomorrow."

Your eyes were practically shooting bullets in his direction. "I know you don't fucking like me Peña, but stop acting like a school boy and get your head out of your ass."

"Maybe you are the one with your head up your ass, agent." Peña cooly said.

You tried to ignore the way he was looking at you (and the way you could smell his aftershave from here) and put your hands on your hips. "Fuck you, Peña. You don't want me on tomorrow because I am a better agent than you, you selfish prick."

"That isn't it." Peña said with a chuckle, shaking his head as if you were saying the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

"It fucking is, isn't it? You don't want me strolling into your operation and doing the job better than you. Can't have your huge fucking ego tarnished by me!"

"That is not the reason why!" Peña shouted back, feeling himself lose his temper slightly.

This was the Peña you were used to, the one you egged on and led into a battle of cruel words and hateful glares. "Oh, fuck off. That is absolutely why!"

"Maybe, just fucking maybe-" Peña cut himself off, his chest now heaving as he copied your pose, hands on his hips and body stood straight.

You couldn't help the small grin that grew on your face. "What is it, Peña? Say it. Don't punk out now when things were just getting interesting."

"You are a child." Peña spat back.

You chuckled harshly. "Look in the mirror before you start throwing insults around, Peña. Now what were you going to say?"

Peña stared back at you, your eyes locked together in a visceral manner. "I don't want you to fucking die."

You couldn't help the throaty laugh that erupted from your very core, your head thrown back as you looked away from him for the first time to try to gather your composure. "Oh, fucking please! Spare me. You have never given a shit for me!"

Peña shook his head, looking slightly deflated as he looked away from you. "Fuck off."

"Oh, don't act like that. I am just supposed to stand here and believe that this whole time you've secretly cared about my safety and you don't have me on the operation tomorrow in order to keep me safe?"

Peña looked back up at you and you nearly wavered from the look in his eyes. You couldn't handle it if it were the truth, which the look he gave you said it was, so you continued on doing what you did best. "I don't need anybody to protect me. Certainly not you, Javier Peña."

"I'm not trying to protect you."

You lifted up a hand emphatically. "So you didn't not put me on this because you don't want me to die?"

"Fucking hell, you are so frustrating." Peña yelled back, face red and eyes throwing daggers as he stepped even closer to you.

You didn't dare take a single step back. You would show no fear or weakness. "And you are such a walk in the park? I forgot about how the man-whore of Columbia was always just a pleasant-"

You were cut off by Peña lunging forward and for a split second you thought 'Oh, shit. I'm gonna have to kick Peña's ass.' That was until you felt a pair of rough, chapped lips press into yours mercilessly and a pair of calloused hands grab at the side of your face.

You stood still for a solid few seconds, your brain seeming to short-circuit until it slowly registered the undeniable truth of the situation: Javier Peña was fucking kissing you.

Well then push him off of you!

Except you didn't. For all intents and purposes, you should have. You should of shoved him off of you, yelled at him for trying to pull his 'sex god' card on you, and maybe even delivered a striking slap to his face, just for dramatic effect. But you didn't. You stood there completely still until eventually your hands reached for the collar of his jacket, roughly pulling him in until he was pressed so tightly to you that you didn't think there was an centimeter of distance between the two of you.

You felt him turn you, pushing you back until your back hit the same file cabinet he had been leaning against earlier. Your lips finally caught up with the rest of you, lips fighting dominantly against each other in a frantic battle. It probably wasn't the prettiest kiss but holy shit, you couldn't think of a time you had been kissed like this. The kiss was so striking but also so passionate, both of you fighting each other in the most deliriously addictive way. You couldn't ignore the smallest voice in the back of your brain asking you why you hadn't done this way earlier.

Eventually your tongues danced against each other, begging for even the smallest taste of each other like you were both addicts craving even the slightest taste from the bottle. His hands drifted away from your face to your hips, clutching them roughly and tightly but not hurting you in any way. Just gripping hard enough for you to feel them and feel the emotion.

Eventually, after what felt simultaneously likes hours but also mere seconds, Peña pulled away and holy fuck, how did he look so good? His lips were puffed and red, slightly wet from the sloppiness of the kiss. His eyes were hooded and looking at you in a way he had before but you had never been able to place, always mistaking the lustiness for hatred (and hold up, had it just been lust this whole time?). His jacket was still clutched tightly in your hands and you should of let go. Anyone could walk in and see him standing up against you on a shelf with your faces red and chests heaving but you couldn't even bother to care, your brain still reeling and your body betraying you, yearning for more.

"I'm going tomorrow." you said, still slightly out of breath.

Peña sighed, his warm breath fanning over you and smelling slightly of mint gum and stale cigarettes. "I know you are."

You nodded, glad to see his slow acceptance creep in. You slowly released the jacket, looking at how it had crinkled from how tightly you had pulled him to you. He backed up slowly, one small step at a time as his eyes still traced each others faces.

Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him again, fight with him again in the most delicious way but the door opened and you both turned to see the tall, blond-haired agent you had both become closer with than you initially thought possible.

"Have you guys killed each other?" he asked, trying to joke but also hesitant to with how foul your mood had been.

You desperately pulled away from the shelf and shook your head, though not to answer him but in some desperate attempt to try to shake away the evidence of what just happened (despite the fact that it was imprinted on your mind). "No. I'm going tomorrow."

Murphy shared a weary look with Peña who just gave a short nod and began to walk towards the exit. "She comes. If she gets shot, its not my problem."

You and Murphy both watched him slip past, moving out of the room and down the hall, away from you. Murphy twisted his head to look back at you, shaking his head. "Based off his behavior, I'd say that went well." he sarcastically mumbled.

You tried to chuckle but it sounded fake and hollow, your mind too preoccupied. "Yeah. Super well."

Murphy gave a roll of the eyes, used to the two of you being frustrated with the other as he slipped away from the doorway. You followed him as you made your way out of the room, the room where you still comprehend what exactly had happened in it. "You must of really went after each other this time."

You nearly choked at Murphy's quip, your mind taking a moment to realize he was speaking rhetorically about your arguing. He had no way to know the violent dance your lips had done or the way you both had perfectly expressed arousal and hatred with your tongues alone.

You just hummed, pushing past Murphy to head to your desk so you could work and just forget what had happened. Forget it because it meant nothing.

[calaofnoldor]

Driving My Baby

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 2,183 (i can’t drabble)

Summary: Dean doesn’t know about your mad skills behind the wheel, but it turns out there’s nothing hotter than seeing his baby driving his Baby.

Warnings: implied smut, language, fluff, dean’s bow legs, references to the fast and furious franchise

A/N: was originally gonna post a slightly angsty 2-part dean fic next, but decided against it in light off recent events lol. there’s really no plot or substance here, just some light floof. (and yes, the title is a reference to the song ‘you’re having my baby’)

MASTERLIST

The roar of Baby’s engine rumbled to a halt as Dean glanced over at you, “Alright, so you gonna sit tight while I go scope this place out?”

You sent him a close-lipped smile, trying your best to repress the excitement bubbling within you. “Mhm!” you concurred with a bouncy nod, pausing to sneak a quick peek at his shapely behind when he stepped out of the car, “I’ll try and see if I can get a hold of that morgue guy again.”

Walking over to the passenger side, Dean bent down to kiss you through the open window. “Mmkay, I’ll be back soon,” he mumbled against your lips, before turning to commence his search for the potential vamp hideout you suspected was in the vicinity.

“Oh wait! Dean!” you called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“The keys?”

Dean looked down at his pocket where the Impala’s keys were safely nestled and then back up at you with raised brows.

“You’re not gonna leave me in here like a dog, are you?” There was a subtle hint of amusement in your voice, but also a challenging edge, as well as a slight pout which you added for good measure. You knew he could never really say ‘no’ to you.

And as expected, Dean returned to deposit the keys into your waiting hands. You gave him a wide smile in return, “Thank you! Love you!”

Your boyfriend narrowed his glimmering green eyes at you, imparting one last suspicious glimpse in your direction as he grumbled somewhat warily, “Love you too,” and then finally sauntered off for good.

Biting your lip, you watched with bated breath as his figure grew smaller in the rear-view mirror. Normally, you would have enjoyed the exquisite vision of what you often dubbed his ‘sexy ass bow-legged swagger’, but this time, it was when Dean was no longer in sight that a devilish grin broke out across your face.

But really, who could blame you? You’d been a car enthusiast all your life, and classic cars were your weakness. “It’s just you and me now, Baby.” Your fingers glided along the dashboard.

With Sam on the bench due to a broken ankle (courtesy of the werewolf from your last hunt), you and Dean had driven out to Piedmont to take care of this vampire case on your own. So now after two years with the Winchesters, you finally had a chance to explore the front seat of Dean’s Baby, his pride and joy, the glorious, refurbished 1967 Chevy Impala.

When you’d joined forces with the brothers, it was readily agreed upon that you would be better off riding together in the sleek American muscle car, so you ditched your stolen, rusty 2003 Honda Accord and never looked back. Since there was a giant moose to accommodate, you were naturally relegated to the back seat, and rightfully so, but boy, did you miss the thrill of being in the driver’s seat.

You were always a bit of a demon behind the wheel, and it’d been ages since you’d gotten the chance to flex your driving skills. Back when you and Dean first got together, he promised you joyrides (and other recreational activities) in Baby, but the hunting life never seemed to let you get it on.

Sliding across the bench seat, your lungs released a contented sigh as you wrapped your hands around the leather-bound steering wheel. Dean’s bowlegs, however sexy, were not the same length as yours, so you pulled the lever beneath the seat to adjust its position to your liking. Perfect.

You took your time getting to know the ins and outs at the helm of the Impala, though it seemed like none at all had passed when you suddenly heard Dean’s deep voice cry out.

“Y/N!” Your eyes shot up to the rear-view mirror to find an image of the older Winchester running towards the car. “We gotta go!”

Well that’s strange, you thought. Dean never ran – not unless someone, or more often something, was chasing him… Oh shit. Had he somehow woken the vampires? But the sun was still thriving; how much could they retaliate out in the open at this point during the day?

“We gotta get outta here! Now!”

Dean’s voice was much closer now and if you’d learned anything from your experiences hunting with the Winchesters, it was to never doubt your boyfriend’s commands. He was a seasoned pro and possessed instincts like you’d never seen. It’s a good thing you’ve also got some of your own.

Plunging Baby’s key into the ignition, you started the car without hesitation, allowing yourself only a second to relish in the thunderous purr of the engine below you and the incomparable feeling of glee that always sprouted in your chest whenever you were sat at the wheel of a powerful, capable vehicle. Indeed, the adrenaline was already rearing.

As Dean approached the car, you quickly reached over to open the passenger side door for him. “Get in the car!”

“You- Wha-“ Dean stumbled for a split second, so accustomed to taking the driver’s seat. “Y/N, they’re awake and they’ve got bikes – a bunch of Harleys!” he continued to explain, as if that would get you to move out of his designated spot.

“OK, so hurry up!” you yelled again.

Seeing no better option, Dean hastily climbed into the car. Just as he got in, your ears picked up the unmistakable resounding growl of revving motorcycle engines. From the sound of it, they couldn’t be too far off. So when Dean slammed the door shut, your foot came down fast and heavy against Baby’s gas pedal, propelling you forward with an aggressive lurch before you whizzed off, burning rubber and leaving nothing but flying leaves and dust in your wake.

“Jesus!” Dean bellowed; his eyes had grown to about twice their usual size.

You paid him no attention though, too busy reveling in the delightful buzz that vibrated through your body starting from your fingers and toes, where you could feel every unit of Baby’s intoxicating horsepower, and travelling up your limbs until the exhilaration settled deep within your very core.

Stealing a glance at the rear-view mirror, you caught sight of the monster-driven motorcade advancing considerably, so you decided to take the next available turn as an attempt to throw them off. Things were getting truly exciting now.

“Vamps on bikes? Really?! And covered in leather?” you huffed mirthfully with a shake of your head.

But it was Dean’s turn to ignore you. He was clutching at his door tightly, as if afraid your driving might somehow hurl him out of it. In fact, when you took the first corner without warning, Dean just about fell over.

“Woah! Slow down, Toretto!” he shouted in alarm, looking over at you as if you’d grown a second head.

Seeing you’d managed to surprise the vampires with your unexpected maneuver however, a loaded smirk was your only reply.

It took you about twenty minutes to get the vamps off your tail, during which time Dean managed to recover from his initial shock and began instead to absorb your radiant form. The look of exuberance on your face and the utter determination in your bright eyes, mixed with the mischievous tug of your lips, and combined with the all-around liberated and euphoric aura that surrounded you was sexy as hell, not to mention your sheer competence. All of it astounded him and caused his blood to flow to places he could not have foreseen.

You seemed to be completely at one with his esteemed Baby, handling her with perfect control and aptitude, and all the while enjoying yourself so very much. It was something Dean never knew you were capable of, but more so, it was something he never knew he needed.

Dean had always loved how much you loved and appreciated his car, but this made him feel like he was seeing you in a new light; it made him feel like he was falling for you all over again. That devilish glint in your normally kind and virtuous eyes, your ever jubilant and fervent love for life after enduring so much pain and grief, the way you never ceased to amaze and surprise him – it was all gloriously heady and irresistibly addictive. His teeth couldn’t help but pull at his lower lip, emerald eyes glazing over with lust and adoration as he stared over at you in the driver’s seat.

So when you ultimately pulled into an empty clearing, not wanting to lead the vamps straight back to your motel room, Dean was at a loss for words.

“So, a bloodsucking motorcycle gang, huh? Can’t say I’ve seen that before,” you speculated in a cheery, nonchalant tone, feeling perfectly satisfied after your little stunt driving escapade.

Dean, on the other hand, appeared not unlike a fish out of water with his furrowed brows and pouty lips which appeared undecided as to whether they should remain open or closed.

“That was… I just- You-… I don’t even know…” he ran his hands through his hair, pulling the short strands forward roughly, “What just happened?”

You sent him a small, innocent shrug, rather amused at his adorably stuttery response.

“You never told me you could drive like that.”

“You never asked,” you replied truthfully.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was… so… incredibly…”

What? Your curiosity was killing you. Dean’s opinion always mattered to you and at the moment, you could read a myriad of emotions upon his face. He looked stunned and confused, perhaps a bit frightened, but at the same time awed and impressed, and maybe even – were you reading that right? – slightly… aroused?

Dean lowered his voice to answer your unspoken question, “Hot,” he finished emphatically.

You heaved a breathy laugh, “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes! Baby, that was incredible. The way you handled Baby like a fucking pro, the little faces you made when you were living for the thrill of the chase. The skill, the speed, the Tokyo drifting, all of it. Goddamn, you are so sexy when you’re driving my Baby like that.”

“Well that’s a coincidence ‘cause I also happen to find you amazingly sexy when you’re behind this wheel,” you joked lightly, “In fact, I think seeing you drive this car might’ve been part of the reason I fell in love with you.”

“And I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” came Dean’s suave response.

You giggled a bit, but soon sobered when you saw his gorgeous eyes cloud over with wanton desire. One minute you were dwelling in the heavily charged sexual tension that seemed to consume the entire car, watching his gaze wander down to your lips while yours did the same, and in the next your mouths met ferociously as your bodies swooped forwards simultaneously, crashing together in the center of Baby’s front seat.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding their way around Dean’s ridiculously broad shoulders and up to his thick neck. When you were forced to come up for air, his lips began to work their way down to your collar bone. “Mmm, god Dean.”

“Seriously baby, that was such a turn on,” he rambled across your skin, “I didn’t even know driving could be so hot.”

Your laughter was really more just an exhalation of air. “Are we finally gonna do it? Are we gonna christen Baby now, thanks to your newfound kink?” you whispered salaciously, your brain already presenting obscene images of the two of you re-enacting something akin to the infamous Titanic scene.

Dean paused for a moment, allowing you to rip off his outer layers with relish before he brought his large hands up to cup your cheeks. “See I wouldn’t call it ‘newfound’,” he started, dazzling forest orbs boring into your soul, “Cause I’m pretty sure it only turns me on when it’s you behind the wheel, and I’ve always had a kink for you.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to keep the smile off your face, “You are such a smooth fucker sometimes, Dean Winchester.” And with that, your lips and bodies collided yet again. His strong hands held you impossibly close while yours ran joyously across his expansive chest before travelling down to find the zipper of his jeans.

“Ungh, wait a sec,” you pulled back a little with knitted brows, a playfully incredulous tone taking over your voice, “Did you call me Dominic Toretto earlier?”

“Well, yeah. You were driving like a madman!” Dean exclaimed candidly.

You smirked, “So does that make you Letty Ortiz?”

“Sweetheart, I will gladly be the Letty to your Dom anytime you want… I still can’t believe you just took me on a high-speed car chase, that was fucking awesome! Just wait ‘til Sam hears about this one!”

Laughing as you pulled him back in, you shut him up with your tongue as it invaded his mouth, pausing only to smile against his luscious lips, “Mmm, well maybe he doesn’t have to hear about this next part?”

A/N #2: thank you so much for reading, feedback always appreciated! oh and here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com :)

[dynyamight]

here’s a concept: deku, a farmer boy goes out to the Wild West and encounters a cowboy kacchan. deku teaches cowboy kacchan to plant corn and take care of chickens. they then become close. after that they marry and are known at the “maize buckaroo duo.”

(this is so random hshshshsh. but the idea just sparked outta nowhere ;33)

i offer you, farmer!deku x cowboy!bkg you give concept. i create fanfic. ;33 i luv this idea & ilysm

—

When Midoriya registers the fast, loud gallops outside, hitting and snapping down on the ground, he ceases his movement, before smiling hard.

The Monday morning has just started, and already there’s excitement in his chest. Those familiar sounds gave him the absolute flutters.

However, that excitement drops. Daisy huffs, back kicking at the milk bucket in an annoyed fit. Midoriya hurriedly picks it up, before all their shared, hard efforts were to go down the hay. Literally.

“Sorry, sorry!” Midoriya urges the cow, quickly smacking his wet hands on the folded towel on his knee. Then, resting a short calm palm on her snout, he whispers reassuringly, “You did amazing, today. Let’s get you back on the field.”

After setting the bucket aside, Midoriya takes the rope around Daisy in one hand, and lifts open the gate with the other. Together, they slowly make their way out of the stables, more or less. Daisy steps on Midoriya’s heels, hurrying him up.

However, stepping outside, Midoriya already knows to turn to his left, instead of his right at the gated grass field. From the sounds he heard inside, he bets on seeing Dynamite, first.

And, sure enough, turning around the corner of the stables, the proudful stallion meets his eyes, neighing a loud greeting over his way. Midoriya halts Daisy and offers a small wave back.

There’s a small jolt from Dynamite, before he starts walking, at a quick pace over towards Midoriya. Finally, that’s when Midoriya sees Bakugou, riding on the back of the horse, the finest, leather saddle equipped.

Midoriya shakes his head, smiling up. “Surprising to see you, so soon. It’s not even sunrise, Kacchan.”

“How fucking rude,” Bakugou clicks his tongue, before stopping Dynamite’s steps with a small pull. He tips his black, cowboy hat down, though barely. “Not even a damn ‘morning’ my way.”

“You’re never one for pleasantries, anyway.” Midoriya teases, pointing at his hat. “You didn’t do a full tip, you know.”

“Tch, you ain’t special.” Bakugou huffs, “Be grateful.”

Taking a few steps forward, Midoriya pats the side of Dynamite’s face. “Good morning, boy! How are you, on this fine early day?” He holds in the laugh, glancing at the scowl Bakugou sends his way.

Dynamite doesn’t give any cues of delight. But, by the way Midoriya feels the stallion lower his head, and press firmly against his hand, it’s not too far-fetched to assume he loves the touch.

On the other hand, Bakugou swats at Midoriya, face twisted in disgust. “Gross! I don’t want that fucking creature’s juices all over him.”

Behind Midoriya, Daisy stomps on the ground. ‘The field, remember?’ Midoriya imagines her quip. And, from the wagging of her tail, she’s losing her patience. Quickly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bakugou sneers aloud, speaking directly at Daisy, “Say whatever you want. But, I ain’t wanting your spoiled cheese on my damn horse.”

“That’s not what she’s upset about.” Midoriya deadpans. “And, what? Can’t handle milk, out of all things?”

“Milk that came straight out of her tit.”

“Where else would it come from? Trees?”

“Whatever, I just don’t want that shit on my horse, for fuck’s sake.”

Though, they couldn’t argue anymore about it. With a strong force, Daisy begins to pull Midoriya away, forgoing staying another second away from her beloved grass.

Fortunately, for Midoriya’s heart, Bakugou cues Dynamite to follow, trailing right next to them. “Damn, she reminds me of my hag. So fucking dramatic.”

“Your hag?” Midoriya questions, tossing a curious head over. “Is she your dog?” He guesses.

“My mom.” Bakugou corrects, nonchalantly.

Midoriya supposes the open expression of shock wasn’t concealed well, because Bakugou lets out a laugh, turning away with a fist to his mouth. “You’re such a mama’s boy.” He snickers. It leaves Midoriya red in the face.

It’s just he would never call his mother anything, but an absolute blessing. He loves her, dearly.

The moment they step onto the wide, open area of the field, Daisy tosses her head, wanting the rope around her neck off. Hushing her quiet and still, Midoriya loosens off the knot, allowing the loop to widen, and finally, pulling it over her head, free.

As Daisy trots away, passing through the sheep and goats, Midoriya’s surprised to see Bakugou pulling himself off Dynamite. Landing smoothly on his feet, leather boots shiny with clean spurs, Bakugou fixes his hat, showcasing more of his face.

His red meets green. “Nice farm you got building.” He compliments. “An improvement from before.”

Midoriya nudges him, with a dull elbow jab. “Stop, It looks the same.”

“That ain’t true.” Bakugou firmly states. “Two months ago, this place had nothing.”

“Well, it’s still not enough to open a public business.” Midoriya sighs, readjusting the straps of his brown overalls. ”I might have to pull out another loan, in order to afford some harvest equipment for my corn.”

“Tch, that’s why you should join the rodeos.” Bakugou insists, crossing his arms to his chest. “It’s the easiest way to make money, here. Good money.”

Midoriya looks back at Bakugou, unimpressed. “Says the state champion.”

Dynamite snorts, conveniently in tune to Midoriya’s mock. It causes a slight reddening in Bakugou’s face. He quickly turns back to his horse, munching on the grass. “Shut it.”

“Anyways, I’ll find a way. Rodeo, or not.” Midoriya continues, yawning in between his words.

“Geez, where’s your damn etiquette.”

“Left it back home. With all my sins and exes.” Midoriya teases, outright. And, despite the smack over his head hurting, Midoriya can’t help, but laugh. “I’m serious!”

“You’re so annoying.” Bakugou grumbles, digging one of his spurs on the ground. “Bringing up stupid shit.”

Midoriya shrugs, still rubbing the back of head. “I promise you, I was a lady killer, where I’m from.”

“Killing those poor, innocent ladies with your bad breath.”

Immediately, Midoriya raises a hand over his mouth, puffing out an air. Though, all he can smell really, is Daisy.

God, did that mean his breath smells like Daisy? The cow?

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Gullible Deku.” He simply states. “Your breath s’fine.”

Midoriya groans, and he tries to smack Bakugou back over the head. Though, Bakugou dodges his hand easily, leaning away.

“Making fun of a farmer on his own bought land, is an insult to his pride.” Midoriya huffs, taking back his hand.

“What are you going to do about it?” Bakugou mocks, a grin forming against his lips. “Make me work? Not a chance.”

With a lightbulb feeling running through his mind, Midoriya absolutely loves the off handed suggestion. “Actually, yes! You can help me feed the chickens!”

Turning his heels quickly, Midoriya smiles at the absolute panic in Bakugou’s voice. “Hah? What the— No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!” Midoriya sings aloud, taking quick steps towards the gate. “C’mon, hurry up, now! Leave Dynamite out on the grass!” He calls out, as he opens the gates, and goes into a full sprint out.

By the time he reaches the stables, goes to his feeding cabinet, shelves crowded with plastic containers and bags of nutrients for his livestock and crops, and grabs onto the chicken feed, Bakugou has begrudgingly made his way inside.

“It smells.” Bakugou complains.

“Suck it up.” Midoriya laughs, before taking a plastic bowl off the shelves and setting it down on the counter. He pours the feed inside. “I bet the rodeos smell just as bad.”

“They don’t.”

“Well, you’re being paid to say that.”

Bakugou walks over to him, standing by his side. He leans on the counter, as Midoriya lifts the feed bag back into the cabinet. “If they did, I wouldn’t do them.” Bakugou states, narrowing his eyes. “Simple as that.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Before Bakugou can insist otherwise, Midoriya pushes the bowl into his hands. He holds back a laugh, when Bakugou almost drops it completely. “Now, let’s head to the coop, shall we?”

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou grimaces. “S’too fucking early for this.”

“Hey, you’re the one who showed up.” Midoriya reminds him, as they walk to the back of the stables, where the clucks of the chickens resound louder. “Which, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s with the sudden visit? Forgot to buy eggs, from yesterday's pick up?”

“Does it matter?” Bakugou questions, instead.

That takes Midoriya aback. “I mean, not really. But, we never meet on the weekdays.” He admits softly. He takes a moment away, to crack open at the tall, wooden gate at the end of the hall.

The chickens weren’t too active, thankfully. Several of them are still sitting perched and hidden inside the coop. Otherwise, only a few were already walking around outside the coop, clucking aimlessly.

Midoriya feels Bakugou lean close to him. When he looks, he notices a chicken had passed by Bakugou’s boots, with no pay to mind. However, Bakugou was visibly losing his mind.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared.” Midoriya smiles.

Bakugou scowls, glaring right down at him. “They got bacteria. Sick motherfuckers.”

For a cowboy, Bakugou has a keen distaste for getting unnecessarily dirty. It never fails to surprise Midoriya. “Well, just wash your clothes when you get back home.”

“I got other shit to do after, you know.” Bakugou growls.

“Again,” Midoriya sighs, “You’re the one who chose to be here. I’m simply utilizing you.”

As Midoriya leads Bakugou over to the coop, he grumbles under his breath. “Gonna have to pull another loan, if you want me working for your ass.”

Rolling his eyes, he ignores the silly comment, and instead gestures at Bakugou to start throwing the feed at the nearby chickens, surrounding the coop. When he stares back, confused, Midoriya remembers the guy’s not a farmer in the slightest. “Start throwing the feed.”

Bakugou hurriedly starts tossing small amounts. “I knew that. Thought you were gonna say something else.”

It’s hard to imagine what else an open hand in air would mean, but nevertheless Midoriya doesn’t argue. The chickens awake are already bustling over, surrounding the dropped feed in seconds.

Taking a handful from the bowl, Midoriya kneels down, going close to the small crowd of chickens. He notices some of them quickly waddle over to him, instead of feed dropped on the ground. The few that come to him peck at his hand, and it floods warmth to Midoriya’s heart.

“They prefer off the hand, huh.” Bakugou comments above him.

“I would like to think that they like me, but sure.” In seconds, the feed’s all gone, and the chickens wait around him for more.

“You should kneel down, too.” Midoriya offers gently to Bakugou, making sure his voice doesn’t startle the creatures. “Feed them off your hand.”

There’s an obvious hesitation, before Bakugou gets low, kneeling next to Midoriya.

One of the chickens tries to reach into the bowl in hands, in which he pulls it away quickly. “I’m getting fucking attacked already.”

“They’re eager.” Midoriya insists.

Dipping his hand into the bowl, Bakugou raises a handful of his own. He whips his head to Midoriya, glaring. “If my hand bleeds, I demand a lawyer to prosecute you.”

They don’t even hurt that bad. Though, telling Bakugou that would probably have him second guess everything. Hence, Midoriya shakes his head. “You won’t.”

Within a few seconds of only impatient clucking surrounding them, Bakugou finally puts his hand out. In seconds, the chickens start to peck at his hand, picking up all the feed quickly.

Midoriya stares at Bakugou. He’s cursing them out, demanding them to stop pecking so hard, for fuck’s sake. And, despite the apparent discomfort from the first handful, Bakugou goes for another handful, offering his hand once more.

Again, the cussing ensues, but it’s still all Bakugou’s free will. He could have stopped at the first hand, but he didn’t. Instead, he’s still kneeling next to Midoriya, feeding these silly, rambunctious chickens.

When Bakugou definitely had better things to do.

“Why did you show up?” Midoriya asks once more, standing up. The chickens have already departed, as Bakugou had tossed the rest of the feed from the bowl, out in the open. “You only buy my products on Sunday’s.”

“Why do you keep asking.” Bakugou reflects back, opening the wooden gate open for Midoriya.

Midoriya steps in front of him, back inside the stables. Once inside, hearing the wooden gate close, he turns around, facing him. “You know, I’m not letting you off, without hearing what’s on your mind.” He softly smiles.

Bakugou stares back at him. And, for an odd moment, his eyes scan all over his face, jittering, until they cease. “You’re making this a big deal, Deku. Just wanted to check up on the farm.”

Ah, that does make sense. “Oh my— Then, why didn’t you say that earlier!" Midoriya laughs.

Bakugou shrugs. “Again, it’s not a big deal. Now, where’s the damn sink?”

Midoriya leads them back to the entrance of the stables, where the sink was, alongside various cleaning supplies perched on shelves. They wash their hands, in silence.

They don’t say much either, when they head back to the grass field, to pick up Dynamite. Though, Midoriya doesn’t mind the silence. Bakugou has a limit to his social battery, and Midoriya has grown to know when it’s time to give him his quiet and peace.

After Bakugou sits back up on Dynamite, and they walk back to the open road, around the corner of the stables, he slightly pulls the reins, causing the stallion to come to a stop. It causes Midoriya to look up, wondering if the cowboy forgot something, back in the stables.

Instead, there’s a slight flush in his cheeks. He coughs loudly, clearing nothing in his throat. “There’s a rodeo this Friday.”

Midoriya waits for the rest, but instead Bakugou says nothing else. “Oh, uh, okay? Will you be participating?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou simply utters.

Again, nothing else is said. “Well, I wish you the best of luck, then.” Midoriya offers, despite the confusion in his mind.

“Are you—” Bakugou stops, inaudibly grumbling under his breath. “I mean, the rodeo ain’t too far from here.”

“Oh!” Midoriya’s genuinely surprised, “Who would have thought? That’s a shocker.”

“Yeah. You could go, even.”

“I’m not joining rodeos. No matter how many times you demand.” Midoriya laughs.

“No, to watch.” Bakugou corrects, though the moment he slips the words, it suddenly causes his entire face to go red. “Fuck, I mean, you could watch. Other riders, and competitors, or whatever the fuck.”

Midoriya can’t seem to understand where Bakugou’s coming from. This cowboy wants him, a new residential farmer, to watch a rodeo. A rodeo, which he has never seen in his entire life.

Though, if Bakugou’s asking, Midoriya’s heart will always simply agree. “I’ll go watch, then.” He reassures him, “And, I guess I’ll cheer you on, if you’re any good.”

Bakugou’s face calms, though there’s still a stiffness in his shoulders. “Cool.”

Midoriya thinks he wants to say something more, but instead Bakugou brings his thighs closer to Dynamite, squeezing him slightly. Instantly, Dynamite starts trouting off.

Before he can call out, Bakugou looks back at him. “Starts at 7 in the afternoon! Don’t be fucking late!”

And, just with a small kick, Dynamite starts racing off on the road, Bakugou leaving Midoriya only with his thoughts.

There’s not a lot of information about the rodeo, though Midoriya knows he will most definitely ask around for the rest of the details. Essentially, it’s a nearby rodeo, that starts at 7PM. Surely, there are others in town that know where exactly is the event.

Midoriya can’t help, but drift his focus away from the rodeo, and back to Bakugou’s distant figure. Against the morning sunrise, he looks so cool.

But, a farmer like him, attracted to a cowboy like Bakugou, is so embarrassing.

[shoutogepi]

Jealousy Has Its Perks

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 10.4K holy shit im tired

[  ✘ (nsfw!), ☀︎ ]  sin with a cute ending

themes : jealous,dom!shouto, brat,sub!reader, friends with benefits, degradation, quirk use, edging, overstimulation, general bdsm things, & a sweet lil confession

bio : Even though you’re not his, Shouto can’t help but turn green with envy when he sees you dancing on another man at the club.

author’s note : uhhhh can i get a hell yeahhHHH for jealous fwb trope? lmao my basic ass loves these. hope y’all do too <3

also available on AO3 here

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂hinsou’s hands land on your waist, cold fingertips pressing into your exposed midriff and guiding your hips along with his. The circular motion has your head spinning, and you let your skull fall back onto his sturdy chest at the feeling of his semi brushing against your ass. Shinsou’s purple locks tickle your neck as he bends and presses his lips to your skin, sucking on the skin just hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands cup your hips, squeezing the flesh there softly while his thumbs trace the crest of the bones.

The song blasting through the club changes, a novel and heavy bass causing your throat to vibrate. The sudden need to quench your thirst emerges, and you pull away from the handsome man regretfully. His lavender irises regard you with understanding as you point to the bar, holding up a finger to signal you won’t be long.

Your heels stick to the dancefloor slightly as you cut through the throngs of club-goers, and unsurprisingly a handful of guys attempt to stop you on your travels. Finding a familiar pink head of hair, you slip into the empty spot next to Ashido and let out a sigh of relief as your elbows land on the wooden counter. Perspiration makes the hairs at the back of your neck stick to your skin, and you fan yourself with a cocktail napkin as you attempt to catch the bartender’s attention.

“Not doing so bad for yourself, Y/N,” Ashido grins at you coyly, her words a tad slurred as her black eyes give you a once-over.

You let out a chuckle, painted lips curving knowingly. “Yeah, well… he used to have a crush on me back in the day,” you explain with a nonchalant shrug, finally giving your order to the woman behind the bar. You look at Shinsou over your shoulder, who has returned to his table of friends and is currently being shoved, high-fived, and noogied animatedly.

Ashido gasps exaggeratedly, her mouth turning from an ‘o’ of shock to a grin of delight. “Two heroes wrapped around your finger at once? I can’t believe you,” she laughs, perhaps too hard, because you have to hold her arm tightly to keep her from falling off her stool.

“Hey now, I’m a free woman!” You reason, thanking the bartender as they hand you an icy glass. “I can fool around with whoever I want, thank you very much.”

“Can’t argue with sound logic,” Ashido taps your glass with hers, throwing back the remaining contents of her drink. “You know, you should tap Bakugou, too. Last night, he Lord-Explosion-Murdered this pussy.”

You snort, the alcohol burning your nostrils as it leaks into your nose from the abrupt reaction to Mina’s words. All the pink-haired woman does is laugh with you, the both of you maybe a step past tipsy but not nearly blackout drunk. Not yet, anyway.

“Shinsou though, really? I’m surprised… I thought you were too in love with IcyHot’s dick to tap anybody else,” Ashido teases, poking your shoulder as a frown forms on your face. Her words are playful, but they send irritation surging through your veins. That asshole had cancelled your weekly appointment tonight, which is why you’re here at the club, prowling for a suitable replacement.  

You shrug again, allowing the bitter liquid to drift past your lips before you speak again. “What can I say? He knows how to get the job done, and he’s sexy as hell.”

“You sound a little smitten. He must be pretty damn good,” Ashido wiggles her brows at you, a devious smile making its way to her face.

You disregard her comment, looking away from your friend with an eye roll. Smitten? Your relationship with Shouto is strictly physical. But maybe you had been a bit too disappointed when he’d sent you that text earlier. Shaking your head, you take a gulp of your drink, willing the intrusive thought to disappear.

Ashido’s phone vibrates and you watch her face light up at the message. After a brief moment, she stands, collecting her jacket and purse. “Hmm, seems like Bakugou is calling for an emergency meeting,” she winks at you, flashing you a rather lewd photo of the blonde that was clearly not meant for you to see as she walks away. “Give my regards to Shinsou! I wanna hear about all the nasty stuff he does to you with that mind control quirk of his.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, sighing as you cross your arms. Would Shinsou really be enough to satisfy your cravings? His quirk does interest you sexually, but it’s unclear if he’d be willing to dominate you like that. He always seemed like the type to go with the flow… and tonight, you really need someone to force you to swim against the current, so to speak.

“Shinsou, huh?”

Speak of the icy devil. The voice behind you makes your body still, your eyes widening at his deep tone. The scent of his encaptivating cologne infiltrates the air around you, and a hand slides around your waist, pushing you backwards against his firm chest. You swallow, your tongue poking out to wet your lips in anticipation. What’s he doing here?

“Already forgetting about me, angel?” Lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his hand gliding across your torso until it reaches the other side of your waist, grabbing there and spinning you around. He catches you as you turn, snatching your wrist with his other hand to steady your half-finished drink.

You look up into his heterochromatic eyes, noticing a new emotion simmering there. Is that… jealousy? His cold breath fans over your flushed face, and you bask in the cool relief it provides in contrast to the stuffy club air. “It was you who cancelled our appointment,” you murmur, feigning innocence as you look to the side in a faux-bashful manner, “I needed to find a substitute. A girl has needs, you know.”

Shouto grins down at you, but it seems like more of a snarl as his eyes glare down at you with hostility. One eyebrow raised in mockery, he chuckles lowly. “And Shinsou Hitoshi is gonna do that for you? Are you sure he’s big enough to fill my shoes, angel?”

Your eyes wander back to the intimidating man before you, lingering on the ridges of his muscular form hidden underneath his button-up and slacks. Feeling brave, you down the rest of your drink, tongue rolling out and over the lip of the emptied glass. Shouto’s eyes burn as they follow the movement, his lips parting slightly while his grip tightens on your waist. Shooting him a playful smile, you tug your wrist free, placing the vacant glass on the bar. “What are you even doing here, Shouto?” You change the subject, hand reaching up to tug on his slim tie as a cheeky grin splits your lips. “You don’t like to have fun.”

The action causes him to lean closer to you, his face next to yours. “I was dragged here against my own will, of course— boy’s night. But would you believe my surprise when I saw my little minx walk in, all eyes on her in her skimpiest dress?” His baritone voice loud and clear despite the blaring music, his lips hover dangerously close. The hand you’d freed strikes your ass abruptly, causing you to jump closer to him in shock. His fingers hold the reddened cheek through the thin material of your dress, gathering you into his chest. No one seems bothered by the blatantly sexual action in the club, everyone distracted with their drinks and their own sensual pursuits. “And then, can you imagine how I felt watching her grind up against mind-control, watching him put his filthy fucking hands on what’s mine?”

You let out a heavy breath, delighted at how responsive he is. How possessive he is. “What’s yours?” You challenge, hands landing on his broad chest. His expression makes you press your legs together eagerly, your body starting to bend to his will.

Shouto’s hand leaves your waist to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to bend your gaze to meet his. “Mine,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours by the second. Your pulse pounding, your fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt, your eyes flutter closed. His lips brush over yours, and then he pulls away.

A whine of protest escapes you, and you shove your palms against his chest in annoyance. But he doesn’t even budge, his fingers slipping into your hair and pulling your defiant face to look at him.

“Let’s get outta here, angel,” he nods toward the exit, releasing you and lightly smacking your ass again before his fingers settle at the small of your back, “I think I need to remind you who you belong to.” Shivers shoot down your spine at his choice of words, effectively drowning the bratty response you were so ready to quip at him. Without even a glance at Shinsou, you allow Shouto to guide you out of the establishment and into the crisp night air.

The brisk walk to his luxurious apartment is silent, but laden with anticipation. Your brain begins to ponder if his words had a deeper meaning. The two of you had been engaging in this affair for months now— you aren’t quite sure how it came to be. Your relationship had remained stringently physical, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your stomach when he held you through the night, when his hands would rub your exhausted body tenderly, and when he would kiss you for hours before you’d slip into a satiated, peaceful slumber. And you did not dare to acknowledge the warmth that would blossom in your chest when you’d drowsily awake, still swaddled against his muscular chest with his arms around you as sunlight peeked through the blinds. Physical, yes— your relationship is only physical… regardless of the fuzzy feelings that ebb through you when you’re next to him.

And when he had proposed to have you come over twice in one weekend, you’d nearly panicked at the raw excitement that coursed through you at the premise. After much consideration you had denied his request, fearful that if you allowed yourself even a shred of further indulgence you’d be entirely consumed by the captivating man. He hadn’t overstepped that boundary since, and you weren’t sure if you felt appreciative or disappointed.

Your train of thought is interrupted as you reach the tall doors of his apartment building. The complex is perhaps one of the most expensive in the city— the lobby boasts flat leather sofas and sleek wooden tables. Lush tropical plants with leaves as wide as tennis rackets break up the space, magnificent orchids dotting the area just sparingly enough, and to top it off, an entire wall with running water rushing over the flat surface, creating a sheet of liquid that trickles quietly as you wait for the elevator.

Next to you, Shouto has his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face as usual. But after months of getting to know him, you can easily recognize the irritation lingering on his handsome mug. You are not able to think of any words that could possibly calm Shouto’s crackling, brooding intensity, but honestly, a large part of you desperately wants to find out what exactly he has in store for you. It’s clear that he has no intention of forgetting you were about to leave with another man, and his blatant acrimony brings a sliver of joy to you while jealousy oozes out of his every pore— you know you’re in for a wild night.

When the door closes with a deafening click behind you, your body freezes as you wait with bated breath. Sure enough, two large hands curl around your stomach, coasting down your pelvis in a V shape. His long fingers nearly graze your clothed slit, but he changes direction at the last moment, instead securing his palms on your inner upper thighs. He rubs the flesh there roughly, making your head fall back against his shoulder as you gaze up at him. His smoky eyes are already on you, a smirk decorating his pretty lips as his fingers work on your sensitive muscles. Thumbs brushing against the sides of your panties, his movements push the hem of your short dress up along your hips.

“You need to be fucked pretty bad, huh, angel?” He taunts, analyzing how your ass rubs zealously against his crotch. His smirk only grows as you nod, your hand flying up to grapple onto his bicep. “Bad enough to drop your standards so embarrassingly low?”

You snort at his words, turning your head so your eyes catch his. This asshole has some nerve getting jealous after he was the one who cancelled on you.  “Shinsou is just as hot as you, Shouto,” you reply boldly, wondering what exactly the price of your words will be. How far can you push this envious beast? Will you be able to take his punishment?

Shouto’s expression darkens, allowing his hair to fall over his eyes as his stare falls to the floorboards. His hands leave your skin, and you whirl around ready to dish out another line, but he’s already a step ahead of you. He lashes out, yanking your body against his by swooping his hand underneath your thigh and cupping your bare ass. He lifts your body so your heels leave the floor, rushing to press your back flat against the drywall. He’s hoisted you up high enough to set your ass against the thin, tall table next to the door which usually holds his keys.

Your legs parted with him standing between them, he places his hands on the tops of your thighs. A low chuckle rumbles out of him, his tidy fingernails trailing up your flesh. “Just as hot as me, hmm? Is he really, Y/N?” His left hand jumps from your thigh to your cunt, the only barrier between you two your skimpy panties. The heat emanating off his palm catches you off guard, a moan tearing out of you as he easily cups your covered sex, sending a searing fever through your body.

“Fuck,” you whimper, hips bucking instinctively against his palm, your body hoping for some kind of friction. The heat makes your pussy twitch, stirring as a cat slowly pulled from a deep slumber.

He tilts his head, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re breathless. “Huh? What was that?” He wiggles his fingertips a bit, enjoying how you whine as the ends of his blistering fingers dig into your core through the material of your panties. Your wetness drips through the thin cloth to coat his hot digits, making it easier to glide them against you.

“More, Shouto,” you squeak, panting heavily as his fingers rub along your slit at an infuriatingly slow pace.

Shouto lets out a low purr of satisfaction at your plea, savoring how your smooth leg tenses up underneath his other palm. Your sweet whimpers are music to his ears, his right hand moving around your thigh to meander toward your ass. “No, baby. Not until my angel answers me,” he murmurs, ducking his head down and placing his lips against the delicate skin on your neck.

A wayward moan evades your gasping lungs as his tongue ravishes your flesh, his teeth scraping over the wet skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, wiggling your body forward so your soft breasts press up against his hard chest, your cunt inching closer to his crotch. “Ugh— nooo,” you gasp as a fingertip presses harshly against your core, just barely pushing your panties into your pussy.

“No? No what?” He laughs darkly, his breath tickling your sensitive collarbone. He draws back from you, his intense gaze focusing on the other side of your neck before he looks directly at you, a sinister glint in his eyes.

Your lip trembling, the brat you’d been so ready to let free is for once taciturn at his dominance. Your submissive nature leaking out in desperation, you whine when his fingertip recedes slightly, leaving your panties barely inside of you without the pressure you really want. “No— Shinsou’s not nearly as hot as you, Shouto!” You rush out, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall swiftly, restless for his touch to return to you.

But Shouto does not seem appeased by your admission. In fact, his gaze becomes a glare, his mouth curling into a snarl as he grabs your hips, crushing your body against his. “I hate hearing another man’s name come out of your pretty little mouth, Y/N,” he growls.

You’re shocked by his possessiveness, your eyes widening like saucers as his teeth skim your pouting lips. His proclamation makes a cocktail of doubt and lust unfurl in the corners of your body, but you’re torn as you wonder if he really thinks of you as his. Before you can ponder the meaning behind his statement, his eyelids shut and he smashes his lips onto yours.

Your arms are around his neck in less than a second, all thoughts vanishing as your nails scratch his scalp through the short, buzzed hair at the base of his undercut. He groans against your mouth, eliciting a moan from you in response. He takes the opportunity in stride, his hot tongue thrusting into your mouth as hot steam puffs out his nose, his calloused hands squeezing your body carnally. Your lips dance with his clumsily, your other hand cupping the corner of his sharp jawline and pulling his lips closer to yours.  

He pulls away from you as your hips begin to grind against his, his eyes still closed with his lips pulling back into a snarky smile. Your needy mewl of disappointment makes his eyes slit open, regarding you with a predatory gaze. He takes in your desirous expression, his stare cold yet sizzling with passion. “You let him defile your perfect skin, angel?”

The hickey Shinsou had left is barely even that— nearly indistinguishable from your skin tone— yet Shouto’s eyes make the flesh on your neck blister with his scalding intensity. Your cheeks flush red, his words fanning the fire inside of you as you bite your lip. You had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but now you realize it was foolish of you to even allow yourself to think his perceptive gaze would skip over something so blatant.

“This heavenly body is mine to mark,” he hisses, a hand fisting your hair and pulling your neck back roughly to reveal the hidden skin from the shadows.  The vaguely purple mark now on display in the dim mood lighting of his entryway, more steam billows from the man as he sneers in contempt. “And only mine. Got it, baby?” He does not allow you to answer— his mouth attacks the bruise, harshly sucking the skin while he washes away any recollection of the other man with ferocious swipes from his strong tongue.

Your back bows, your body wriggling in his grasp at the surge of devastating arousal that pulses through you. You shriek his name, hands clawing hysterically into his shoulder and the soft hair atop his head. Your pussy clenches around nothing, making you very aware of the aching need for him to claim you building in your core. Your legs snag his hips closer to yours, his body crashing into you as he grunts, lips finally releasing your battered skin. Without a doubt, the once indistinct mark is now more akin to the remnants of a punch to the throat, the colors already eclipsing into a deep shade of violet.

The lust crackles in the air between you two like thunder, your body a savannah ready to receive the generous relief of the first deluge in months. God, it’d only been a week since you last saw the man, but the unmitigated yearning for him to ravage you is the only emotion you can process.

“Please, Shouto, I need you to fuck me,” you beg, the words slipping out of you like a wet bar of soap from your desperate clutches. You’re mortified at your shamefully wanton admission, your cheeks still red and your body flushed, nearly shaking. You are not accustomed to this submissive side of yourself, but the brat inside of you only watches on in avid curiosity. If he doesn’t escalate this tryst fast enough, you’re afraid your body will fold like a limp noodle in his strong arms.

Shouto seems just as affected as you, his pupils dilated and his erection painfully straining against the confines of his slacks. His hands leave your frame, going to loosen the collar of his shirt by yanking his tie loose and then beginning to unbuckle his belt. You lean forward, your lips meeting his again as your fingers eagerly land on his cheeks, beckoning him closer to you. He moans into your mouth, fist nearly ripping the leather belt from the loops on his slacks, the metal of the snake-shaped buckle klinking loudly as he discards it carelessly onto the tabletop. Hands trailing up your spine, he tugs the zipper of your dress down your back, effortlessly lifting your hips in one hand to slip the garment under your ass and off your legs.

The inferno of jealousy ignites once again as he appraises your figure, clad in a matching set of white silky lace adorned with satin ribbons on each hip and one beneath the valley of your breasts. You’d worn this and Shinsou had almost seen such a marvel? Seen your delectable body in this gorgeous lingerie that he himself had never feasted his starved eyes upon?

Unaware of his change in mood, your lips move along his, begging for him to kiss you back as your tongue swipes his full bottom lip. His palms slide along your back, moving to cup your ass cheeks as he picks you up. You nibble on his earlobe as he swiftly carries you to his bedroom, his fingers jabbing into your behind in response. He kicks open the ajar door forcefully, unflinching as the doorknob nearly cracks the wall. Sliding onto the edge of the mattress, he sits with you on his lap, your legs still secure around his torso. His rough palms glide over your hips, rounding your waist and seizing your breasts, lifting the flesh to sit more perkily on your chest in perfectly round spheres.  

“Why are you so fucking gorgeous, Y/N?” He groans, eyes closing in pleasure as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. He presses his mouth to the supple skin just above the cusp of the bra, slurping and nipping and leaving a trail of pretty pink marks. “You’re damn ethereal, angel.”

You’re gasping for air, hips unabashedly rolling against his, the feeling of his strained length making your desire for him to fuck you senseless multiply. Your hands latch onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself, your mind spinning dizzily with desire and the prolonged buzz from your earlier drinks.

“Take off my tie.”

The command rouses you from your far-away state, your fingers slightly trembling as you work on the silky material of the tie. After what seems like an eternity, the knot loosens and the tie slides off his neck into your hands. Shouto’s lips cover yours again, instantly enchanting you so that you don’t notice the sleek item slip through your fingers.

All of a sudden your front meets the cool sheets, your lips ripped away from his. Instead your face meets his pillow, engulfing your senses in the sexy, virile smell of him. You moan into the pillow, ass pushing into the air as your cunt throbs between your legs, ready to be taken in whatever manner he decides. His knees land on either side of your hips, his bulge rubbing into your ass teasingly as his hands close around your wrists. Tugging them behind your back carefully, he loops the tie around the both of them and fastens the knot with a firm pull, jerking once more for good measure.

You swallow into the pillow, teeth poking out to capture your bottom lip when he trails a sole finger along your spine. He’d never tied you up like this before, and the concept excites you to the point that your arousal visibly permeates your white panties.

“Do you feel that?” Shouto inquires, rutting his hips against your bottom so his clothed cock rubs between your ass cheeks. He’s panting lightly, his palms groping your ass and pinching the skin torturously. “Can you feel how much I want you, Y/N?”

“Fuck yes,” you answer, your head turning to lay against the pillow so he can see half your face and hear your voice. “I want you too, Shouto— I need you.”

He sighs at your saccharine words, almost swayed by your submissive antics. If he gives in now, his cock could be in your tight hole in just seconds… But then he wouldn’t get to have his way with you.

“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re desperate, baby,” he remarks, grasping your hips and pulling you down the sheets. He maneuvers you over his lap, and your eyes bug out of your skull as you assume position, knowing what comes next— he’d only done this once before but the memories of that night makes your pussy twinge excitedly. Your arms tied behind your back, your face dangles perilously beside his ankle, your forehead almost skimming the wooden floor. Your body is stiff, and Shouto hums as his hands drift along every inch of your back, ass, and the backs of your thighs.

“I wanna give you what you want, angel, but I promised I would remind you who you belong to, didn’t I?” His words are phrased like a question, but his tone implies them as a statement. Unsure what he wants, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

Apparently, that’s the wrong move, because his freezing hand slaps down hard onto your ass. A mix between a shout and a whine falls out of your lips, your fingers clutching onto themselves in apprehension. Your breathing picks up, ascending into a pant as his other hand caresses the reddened skin with a soothing heat exuding from his palm.

“Did you know I was going to be at the club tonight?”

His question catches you off guard, and you think for a moment before replying with a simple, honest “No.”

Shouto lets out a long sigh, his warm hand leaving your ass and making you tense in preparation.

“So you wore this little number thinking you would just show it to whomever you went home with?” Oh, that’s where he’s going with this.

Again, you’re not sure how to answer. Either way will be unsatisfactory— either you say yes and that would certainly result in a jealous smack, or you say no and he’d spank you for lying to him. You cannot come to a decision fast enough, and the next frigid slap across your other ass cheek steals your breath away as you whimper, your pussy clenching in sadistic delight.

“Answer me, angel. Or I’ll turn this flawless little ass of yours scarlet.”

“I bought it for you!” You blurt out meekly, your cheeks flushing with mortification. It’s not a direct answer to his question, but it’s more than enough to amuse him.

The warmth of his left hand feels hotter this time as it curves around your irritated skin. “Oh?” Shouto all but purrs, his brow raised in interest. “For me, angel?”

You nod, even though your head is below his eye level. “I was gonna wear it tonight, just for you,” you whisper sincerely, blush bright red as your thumbs rub over your knuckles in a self-soothing manner. Deciding you’re already deep enough into your embarrassing confession, you finish your thought with your eyes scrunched shut as you prepare yourself for what you know will come next. “But you rainchecked, so I… thought Shinsou might enjoy it instead.”

Shouto remains eerily quiet for a moment, your heartbeat accelerating wildly as he leaves you waiting, questioning just how he will react. Your body jumps as his left hand swirls around your hips, his arm resting on your back to gather your ass higher across his lap. The neat bows on your panties unravel at your hips, the cool air hitting your swollen cunt as the material is snatched away and discarded. He forces you to wait for another dizzying pause, the urge to squirm in his grasp tempting but you force yourself to stay motionless.

Tears spring into your eyes as his palm crashes against you, his arctic hand causing your body to thrash in recoil, and a strong gust of chilled wind slapping against your dripping folds. A shaky breath escapes you, morphing into a distraught cry when his hot thumb plunges into your aching core, rubbing and curling against your shuddering walls with spite.

“I thought I told you not to say his fucking name,” Shouto jeers, taking his thumb out of you to rub mercilessly betwen your petals, spreading your abundant slick with ease. Coasting down to your clit, he smirks as you sob, your legs quaking.

Your hips jut backwards on their own accord, forcing his thumb to penetrate your cunt again. You moan at the stimulation, squeezing the digit and grinding so it presses against your velvet walls.

He chuckles, pressing the finger as deep as he can and savoring the shameless wails the action induces. “How can you look so pure and act so naughty?” He wonders aloud, his frosty hand trailing along your thigh as he works his thumb inside of you. “You’re really just a little slut, aren’t you? Fucking yourself with my finger so brazenly.” He sighs as he feels your core clenching around his thumb, grinning as you whine at the loss of the digit.

“Please, just fuck me,” you exclaim, turning your face to look at his haughty gaze above you,  “Make me forget about anyone else!”  

Shouto pinches your inflamed ass cheek, forcing another whimper to croak out of your throat. “Aha, is that your game, angel? Want me to fuck you so hard I’m the only man you see? Fuck this little pussy so good no other cock can satisfy you, hmm?” He maneuvers your body effortlessly, positioning you to face him as you sit on his lap. The smooth material of his slacks irritates your sore ass slightly, but all you can bring yourself to do is nod, your arms shuffling behind you with the want to reach out and touch him.

His hands settle on the apex of your thighs, rugged fingertips soothing the skin there before he lifts your body, standing and placing you neatly on the floor before him. Casting an innocent look up at him, you shuffle to your knees, arching your back to your breasts and ass pop out for his aerial vantage point.

“You know what to do, don’t you baby?” Shouto snickers as he untucks his shirt and begins to snap open the buttons down the center of his chest, revealing his creamy skin to your lustful eyes. Leaving the shirt on with his abs on display, he undoes the clasp and zip at the front of his hips, slowly unveiling the delicious V tapering south below his slacks. You squirm in impatience, eyes glued to the trail of fine, bicolored hair he uncovers as his slacks sag tantalizingly slow. His thumbs slither underneath the elastic band across his pelvis, lowering the hem just enough to show you the base of his thick, hard cock. “Alright, angel,” he rumbles, and you feel a stray bead of arousal drip down your thigh at his gruff tone, “Convince me you deserve to have this cock in you.”

As soon as he shoves his briefs low enough for his length to spring free, your lips drown his cockhead with haste, your tongue welcoming his hot, heavy tip with eager flicks. Shouto groans when you suck abruptly, your cheeks hollowing as you allow his member to drive deeper into your mouth. His hand landing on the back of your head, you take that as your cue to leap forward, slamming the entirety of his impressive cock into your open throat as your nose brushes into his abdomen.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Shouto gasps, his hips bucking into your face and shoving the tip of his dick into the depths of your throat.

Tears beading in your eyes, you refuse to let up, releasing a loud moan that makes his cock vibrate. Shouto throws his head back, his fingers curling in your hair as his hips recede, leaving only the tip inside your mouth and you gratefully take in a breath of air before he shoves back in.

“You take my cock so well, angel— fuuuuck, just like that,” he grumbles, pistoning into your face at a slow, deep tempo, the back of your throat caressing his tip delectably as a fat tear races down your cheek. Your cheeks flush pink and your chest tightens from the lack of air, but Shouto’s low grunts falling on your greedy ears has your cunt pulsing with need, your spit trickling down your chin. Shouto’s rabid gaze locks with yours, monitoring your wet eyes and your pleading pout as he speaks, “You look so beautiful slobbering on me like this, my little slut.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, humming on his length as you continue to bob back and forth. Your tongue lathering the veiny underside of his length, the promiscuous flavor of salty pre blooms on your tastebuds. Your head recedes back, keeping just the swollen head inside your mouth as you twirl your tongue in circles around him.

You pop his cock out of your mouth, and send him a closed-lip, coy smile as you smear the slick tip against your mouth. Shouto sighs when your half-lidded gaze meets his, your tongue poking out and curving to dawdle up and down his length.

“That’s enough, baby. Come here.” Shouto bends and picks you up from the floor, kneeling on the mattress and crawling toward the center with you in his arms. Your back collides with the silky sheets, your arms awkwardly stuck behind you with the tie rubbing your wrists. Shouto opens your legs, hovering over your body and making you suddenly feel small in comparison to him. Your cunt parts at the motion, exposing your twitching, saturated hole to him and sending a fresh blush to your cheeks. One hand propping himself up, the other stroking your cheek gingerly, he ushers you to look at him. He whispers to you, his voice calm yet enticing, “You want me to make you feel good, angel?”

“Please,” you implore, your voice hoarse and quiet from his abuse on your throat, “Please touch me, Shouto.” Your mind hazy with a lascivious fog clouding your senses, you can barely find the words to beg.

Even just his hands floating down to your breasts makes you shiver. Your lip between your teeth again, Shouto smirks at you as his fingers pinch the ribbon holding your bra together. Deliberately taking his time, he unravels the neat bow, examining how the silky fabric falls apart so smoothly. The bra cups fall to the side, exposing the smooth skin of your breasts to his feasting eyes. You release a string of mewls as his lips graze the marks he’d left behind earlier, darkening the blemishes with gentle bites. Tongue tracing around your areola, your thighs squeeze around his waist when the warm muscle brushes along a pebbled nipple. Pressing your lips together harshly as he sucks the pert bud into his mouth, your hips jolt against his. His hand kneads your other breast expertly, tweaking your nipple between his skilled fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips only make your nipples stand out more, scraping against you and sending your head spinning.

“You like that, Y/N? Want all my attention on you, don’t you, greedy girl?” Shouto purrs, your breast falling from his lips as he grins at your cheekily.

Swallowing another moan, your breath comes out ragged as you retort, “I could say the same for you, baby.” His fingers on your nipple press together in a pinch, eliciting a strained whimper from you.

Shouto chuckles, poking his tongue out to rove over your other breast, flicking the nub playfully before he speaks a single word. “Touché.” Drifting lower between your legs, his lips leave a wet path down your torso, nibbling and slickening your skin. His mouth littering your body with kisses, an artist eager to make a fresh blank canvas his own. Hot breath colliding with your glistening sex, he groans at the sight of you spread before him. “But damn, angel, can you really blame me?”

Without any warning, he thrusts his tongue into your folds, swiping vertically along your slit and dipping into your entrance with a moan, eyes closed as he relishes your sweet nectar. Your hips dig into the mattress as you struggle to handle the instant relief his touch provides, unfiltered noises of pleasure escaping you. One of his hands slides underneath your thigh to cup your ass and bring your body closer to his face.  

Every time Shouto’s mouth is on you, you’re reminded of just how good he is at pleasuring you. He alternates between rubbing his tongue along your silky inner walls and curling the muscle around your clit, sucking the nerve into his mouth and applying just enough suction to steal your breath away. Your body reacts to his touch naturally, with each moan summoned true and raw.

His fingers prod your sex gently, coating the digits in your essence before they slide into your body at a snail’s pace. The friction of his touch inside of you makes your legs clamp around his head, eliciting a deep laugh from the man that reverberates against your clit. Your eyes roll backwards as he begins to pump the digits at a reasonable pace, knuckles curling deeply in search of that plush spot that makes you fall apart underneath him. Saliva mixing with your arousal, Shouto’s chin is drenched in the sinful concoction as he continues his hunt with determination.

“S-Shit,” you choke as his fingertips push into just the right place, your thighs gripping his head so tight you think you’ll crush him. But Shouto doesn’t seem to care, angling his wrist to gain better access, lithe fingers speeding up as his teeth graze your clit. His vigilant eyes fix on your face twisted in ecstasy, minding how your pussy begins to clench onto his digits in desperation, trying their best to suck them back inside. Your heels dig into his broad back as your body begins to squirm, preparing for your first orgasm of the night.

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Shouto pulls back. Your eyes fly open to look at him in distress, your lips parting with a gasp as your climax flees without a trace. “Shouto!” You hiss, regarding his sultry smirk in shock. This man has some audacity. “I was about to-”

He interrupts you, his fingers gliding back into your core without resistance, lips wrapping around your clit again. The sudden pleasure of the intensity stokes the mere embers of your previous orgasm with fervor, your head flinging backwards onto the pillow as your spine bows.

Your palms behind your back are slick with sweat, your hardened nipples cutting into the still air of the room as your body writhes on its own accord. Your thighs tremble ever-so-slightly on top of his shoulders, your eyes shutting again as you try your best to hold in your whimpers.

But Shouto doesn’t like that, his mouth abandoning your pearl to snarl, “If you wanna cum I’ve gotta hear your voice. I wanna hear you beg for me, baby.”

His dirty words send a new wave of humiliation crashing over you, your mind horrified at your body’s betrayal. Your submissive demeanor is by no means akin to your usual behavior during your weekly rendezvous, and you’re honestly impressed and shocked that Shouto had coaxed it out with such ease. Already you can feel the tension building in your core, your body happily receptive of his generous caress. Your chest heaves as you attempt to even your frazzled breaths, but once your focus switches to that, the pleasure increases exponentially between your legs. Your cunt quivers obviously, Shouto’s eyebrow raising as he shoots you a taunting look.

“I’m the only one who can get you so close so quick, angel. Aren’t I?” His mouth leaves your clit to speak but his teeth capture the nerve instead as he speaks, his hot breath steaming against your throbbing cunt.

Your chin against your chest, you nod vigorously, your hips inching closer to close the distance between your cunt and his mouth. Your fingers curled into fists against the sheets, your back sticks to the sheets with perspiration.

Shouto shakes his head, teeth releasing your aching clit as he clicks his tongue at you. “I said, let me hear you, Y/N.” His fingers pull out, the fingertips just barely inside as he rims your entrance, just enough to keep your pussy throbbing. He exhales, an icy breath rushing over your sopping sex.

“N-No!” You wail, your voice nearly breaking as your orgasm fades away once again. You were so fucking close! You let out another sob, tossing your head to the side in humiliating agony.

“There’s that divine voice of yours,” Shouto chuckles, nipping your inner thigh playfully. Taking his fingers away, his thumb replaces them as it glides over your soaked slit, dipping into your clenched core amusedly before tearing it away again. Your destitute whine only feeds his dominance, and he rolls his thumb over your puffy nerve gently, enjoying how your hips buck weakly in response. “Come on now, angel. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Your chest jolts as his thumb presses down just a pinch, cruising down to rub your entrance brusquely. “You’re the only one that can make me so breathless, Shouto. Please,” your voice wavers as you grovel, eyes locking with his, “Please, make me cum! I need your touch, I need your cock, I— I need you!”

Shouto’s gaze flickers for a moment before he smirks, ducking down to kiss your clit softly. “See, baby? Was that so hard?” He murmurs, his words rumbling on your shivering pussy before his tongue parts your folds, driving deep inside you.

You scream at the intense bliss as his thumb works quickly over your clit, his tongue assaulting your velvet insides. Your thighs weakly tighten around his head, your body unable to stay still as the pleasure wracks through you. Lewd moans and swears tumble out of you as you grind against his face, thrilled by the way his tongue never tires. The pressure between your legs is back and faster heightening, your eyes flying open in shock at how astonishingly fast your climax is approaching.

“S-Shouto, I— I’m—,” is all that you can get out before you seize in his arms, your entire body spasming in ecstasy. Shouto only pins your hips down against the mattress with his free hand, forcing your legs to stay open as he continues to assault your cunt, tongue pummeling your tender core and thumb abusing your clit. You can’t even let out a moan because your lungs are empty— all that slithers out of you a string of shrill and broken cries. The pleasure thrums through your body from head to toe, your fingers and toes curling and splaying as sweat runs down your skin.

Shouto diligently continues to lap at your cunt, slurping up the fresh essence dripping out of you onto the sheets. When he pulls back all he can see is your blissed-out, flustered expression, and your nipples standing upright in arousal. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he tears the shirt off his shoulders in one swift motion. His slacks shed just as quick, he grabs your hips and throws you onto your front, your face once again in his pillow. “You came without my permission, angel. You wanna be a slut? I’ll treat you like a fucking slut,” he snarls, rugged palms coiling around your hips and forcing them into the air, bending your spine so your body transforms into a delicious arch.

Your heart slams against your ribs in apprehension, your mind still too woozy to make a complaint as his cock plunges inside of you. Your walls spread for his length welcomingly, your arousal and your cum lubricating your cunt. Your eyes roll back at the fullness— the stretch of him stuffing your cunt with his thick cock so delectably euphoric. You’re so wet that it doesn’t even hurt as he impales you, pleasure the only feeling coursing through you.

Shouto growls, your pussy hugging his length so snugly he has to take a moment for his head to stop spinning. “Fuuuck,” he utters huskily, sliding out halfway and inspecting how your cunt grips his slippery cock so desperately.

You cry out as he thrusts back in, the angle already perfectly locating your g-spot and making stars flash across your vision. Your body shakes as a palm cracks against your ass, more tears collecting on your lower lashes at the pain that hurts so good.

Shouto grabs the tie around your wrists with the other hand, yanking your body backwards to slap against his hard torso. Hands flying to your hips, he drills into you as he holds you upright against him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches, cunt trembling at the familiar tension building deep inside of you.

“You wanna fuckin’ cum already, don’t you, slut?” Shouto barks, a hand leaving your hip to hold your breast, trapping your nipple between his long fingers. The friction he provides is exquisite, and long, unabashed moans float out of your parted lips.

“Yes! Yes! Please— Make me cum, Shouto!” You howl, your toes curling at the sacred pleasure so close to peaking within you. Lips latched onto the claim he had laid on your neck, his teeth pinch your skin. His ragged grunts in your ear make your core clench around him, about to reach salvation for the second time.

“Do it, Y/N. I want my slutty angel pussy to cum all over this cock,” he commands, forcing your hips to crash down onto his so his tip jabs your g-spot harshly.

Your body collapses at his approval, cunt squeezing and fluttering and leaking onto him as you release a lewd scream. White hot bliss shoots through you as sinful tides of delirium pull you under. Your body trembles as the ecstasy pulses in your veins, your jaw unhinged and your eyes rolled into your skull.

Shouto pushes you forward so your torso falls flat against the mattress limply. His hips do not stall, continuing to push into your tightened cunt with determination as he drags out your orgasm. “Where’s my nasty little brat now?” He laughs crudely, slapping your ass gently and grabbing the reddened flesh, pulling your hips back against his. “Nothing to say, hmm?”

As if your brain is functional enough to form words. Your limbs feel like jello, wiggling with pleasure and shock as he advances his plight. Your throat is dry from all the panting, your ass sore underneath Shouto’s oppressive grip. But it feels so fucking good, you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

Shouto sucks a breath in between his grinding teeth, watching how your ass bounces against his pelvis as his cock slides into your depths. Sweat dripping down his chest and along your back, his hold on you is tight enough to cut off circulation. His lip twitches as he recognizes his orgasm creeping up inside, and he groans as he pulls out of you abruptly.

You whine at the loss, but you’re silenced immediately as he flips your body and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is pleasantly soft, a harsh contrast to his rough hands which slide around your back and fumble with the tie around your wrists. His tongue pushes inside your mouth, searching for yours and caressing it at first touch. Once the silky material slips off you, his hands rove over your breasts, massaging the heavy flesh tenderly as his cock brushes along your slit. A string of saliva stretches between you as his lips leave yours, a hot, breathy sigh fanning over your face. “This beautiful body is all mine, Y/N,” he whispers, tip slipping between your folds and entering your cunt with ease.

Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your aching hole being filled once again, but the pain makes the pleasure so much more enjoyable. His lips wander along your neck as he begins to thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses along your clavicle and down your breast, tongue washing over your nipple as his cock brushes along your velvet walls so perfectly.

The friction has your eyes nearly crossed, and the pleasure only intensifies when Shouto guides your legs to rest against his chest, your ankles by his ears. The angle allows greater access, his thick member reaching new depths that elicit a sharp gasp from you. His left hand pushes your abdomen down slightly, his thumb travelling south to flick along your clit lazily.

“Shit, Shouto, I— s-so sensitive,” you whimper, your hand timidly reaching out to rest on his flexing abdominal muscles. The sensation of him dragging against your g-spot so sensually causes your bottom lip to tremble, a tear sneaking down your cheek to land in your hair.

Shouto’s large hand guides yours to land on your thigh, and he tucks his arm so his own hand covers yours as he pulls your thighs closer to him. “One more, baby,” he moans, the thumb on your clit speeding up.

The extra attention summons that familiar build up in your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “I can’t, I can’t,” you mewl but your body says otherwise, pussy tightening slightly as your ankles cross behind his neck.

“I thought you wanted to cum, angel?” He uses your words against you as he sighs, hips picking up to ram into yours. He holds his breath as you clamp down on him, your sinful expression fueling his impending orgasm. “You gonna make me finish on my own?”

The thought of him blowing his load into you has you biting your lip, your hips shuffling against his. Shouto moans, thumb circling your puffy nerve even faster as he continues to pound into you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, the only noise to interrupt that your huffs and moans.

Steam billows from Shouto’s nose as his eyes nearly close, his abs flexing out of his torso as he fights to keep his orgasm at bay. His heavy breath and visible restraint convince your body to give in, and you weep as you sink into euphoria for the third time tonight. Shouto’s right there with you, a strangled growl mixed with a moan ripping from his lungs as his seed spurts into you, his cock twitching and balls draining as he falls to his elbows above you.

Your body feels sluggish as your limbs tremble slightly, the high from your orgasm still clouding your brain as your arms wrap around Shouto’s shoulders. His cold breath refreshes the moist, flushed skin on your neck, long eyelashes tickling your jaw as your nails scrape carefully down his spine.

When he pulls out your body feels incomplete, but Shouto nuzzles into your jaw affectionately, his hands sliding between the damp sheets and your skin to hold you close. He scatters sluggish, persistent kisses along your throat and up your jaw. And when he moves to your face, they only become longer and more intimate, gently guiding you back to reality.

You sigh in content as you lean in to capture his lips, moving sweet and slow against each other. Your digits amble into his hair, combing back the soft tresses so you can see more of his charming face. He moans at your touch, pleased by the soothing sensation of your fingers feathering along his scalp. His own hand follows your lead, fingers steering a stray hair off your forehead and gliding into your tresses to hold your head in his palm.

The pair of you continue to kiss for who knows how long, touching each other tenderly and savoring the feeling of skin against skin. Your lips melding into one, cradling one another fragilely as if you mutually fear the other will break without your embrace. You could spend eternity like this, high off his ambrosial, tender care.

You are the one to pull away first, knowing Shouto would keep this going until morning if he didn’t think you’d come back down from your high. Not that you would mind that, but you should probably clean up the mess that your passionate session had created— his release beginning to trickle out of you onto the sheets. As he pulls back, the emotions swirling in his striking two-toned gaze shock you. His brow is slightly creased as he nibbles at the corner of his lip, eyes darting around your face.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, sitting up and scooting off the mattress, disappearing around the corner of the bathroom door. The sound of water splashing in the sink fills the silence as you sit still, closing your eyes as the cogs in your brain begin to turn.

Oh god, you’d been so shameless tonight— you’d taunted him and he had made you fall apart and beg in return, bending to his every command. Sure, he had always been the dominant one in your rendezvous before, but tonight was different. He had been jealous, when he had no right to be. But is that why your heart is beating so quickly in your chest? Suddenly you’re anxious, overthinking as usual. This is just sex, right?

But then, why did you leave Shinsou’s side so quickly at the bar when Shouto had been the one to cancel on you? And then there was that, too— why had he just ditched his friends in the middle of boys’ night when it was the reason he cancelled on you in the first place? And he had clearly been furious at the thought of you spending the night with another man. Was it because he knew Shinsou? Or was it because he wanted to be exclusive with you?

Well, if he wanted to be exclusive friends with benefits, isn’t that the same thing as dating? Would he ever date someone like you? Wait, would you even be willing to date him? Do you want him to be your… boyfriend? Your eyes widen and a pink girlish blush emerges on your cheeks at the label. What are you, eight years old? Why do you feel so giddy at the possibility of him wanting you, for more than your body?

Shouto strolls out of the bathroom just in time to catch that embarrassing look on your face, but he only smiles sincerely at you and it makes you blush even harder. What the hell? You’re extra submissive for one night and now you’re thinking about your feelings for him? Wait, did you just admit you have feelings for him?

He clambers over to you in the middle of the bed, a washcloth draped on his slender finger. He leans down and pecks you like it’s no big deal, humming as his lips linger on yours just long enough to make you want more. Your body jumps at the feeling of the damp warmth the towel provides, but you relax as the feeling soothes your aching core.

“Was that okay? How do you feel, baby?” Shouto asks softly, watchful eyes gauging your expression as you look at him. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself, but, I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You let out a breathless, mirthful chuckle at his concern, reaching out to put your hand on his strong arm. “No, I’m fine. And it was… great. Mind-blowing, actually,” you smile at him bashfully, hoping it was just as good for him.

Shouto’s eyes twinkle as he smiles back, nodding slowly. “It was, wasn’t it?” He helps you sit up, maneuvering you carefully off the bed and gesturing for you to use the bathroom.

After relieving yourself, you look at yourself in the mirror that hangs above the sink, vision falling on the massive bruise blossoming on your neck. You sigh when you inspect the purple mark, but when your gaze floats back to your face, you’re dumbstruck to find yourself grinning like a fool. Terror and thrill floods through you at the realization that if any other guy had left a mark this nasty on you, you’d be furious. And yet, having Shouto’s claim on you makes you feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

Shit. Looks like you do want him to be your boyfriend.

You’re half expecting the reflection to show a stupid cartoon character with the way that your heart feels like it’s thumping out of your chest. Taking in a deep breath, you determinedly point at yourself in the mirror and breath out shakily, “You can do this.”

Exiting the bathroom, you return to find Shouto leaning against the headboard, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his fingers rubbing together awkwardly. His eyes on his lap, he almost looks anxious. But he notices your presence right away, peeling back the corner of the blanket and beckoning you to slide in.

Placing yourself stiffly on the side of the bed, you take in his confused expression. “I need to tell you something,” you say as steadily as possible. Man, that’s a scary sentence, even if you’re not on the receiving end.

Shouto’s lips part and he looks like he wants to say something, but he swallows whatever it was down and nods, his expression guarded. “I’m all ears,” he replies, placing his hand on the pillow in front of you.

With the spotlight on you, your throat feels dry as dirt, and you nervously shuffle, suddenly very conscious of your nakedness. “Um,” falls out of your mouth, anything to split the suffocating silence. Your palms are clammy, and your fingers delve into the folds of the sheets to hide your nerves. “I know this is gonna sound kind of lame, but… well, I um…” Shouto’s gaze is burning your face, your cheeks redder than ever as you will this humiliation to just end already. Sucking in another breath, the words blurt out of you. “I have feelings for you.”  

The surprise on his features is unmistakable. All you can do is stare at him, frozen in uncertainty but strangely enough it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. A heavy one at that— one whose existence you refused to acknowledge until ten minutes ago.

“R-Really?” Shouto stutters, looking like he’s just seen a ghost with how wide his eyes are.

You aren’t sure how to take that response, but as soon as your gaze falls from his, his hand shoots out to latch onto your wrist. When you look back at him, a different emotion is painted over his face, one of… hope?

“I have feelings for you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, his own blush dusting over his cheeks. His eyes are soulful and hold nothing but candor and content.

Before you can process his words, his hands are rounding your waist and pulling your body toward his. A different kind of high bursts through you as his lips touch yours, joy storming through the both of you and warm, tingly static crackling between you. These kisses feel different— your heart feels like it’s about to pop, swelling with excitement and relief. Shouto begins to laugh against your lips, and the alluring sound infects you, too, as you join him with a giggle. The both of you are laughing at nothing in particular, but you don’t need a reason to let the noises of elation loose.

Once your laughter ceases, Shouto collects your chin in his hand and places a gentle kiss upon your grinning lips. When he pulls back, his eyes contain a wisp of that jealous fire that had consumed him only hours earlier, and he shoots you a mischievous smirk as he squeezes your ass playfully. “Do you think Shinsou could ever make you feel this good, angel?”

You roll your eyes, chuckling in exasperation at this man’s relentless, absurd envy. “Hmm,” you pretend to think for a moment before you lean closer to him, hands hung loosely around the back of his neck. “Shinsou? Never heard of him.”

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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you reached the end!! thanks for reading this long ass fic lmao, i know it was an investment. I hope the ending was not too cringe, I usually just end my fics after the nut but I wanted to try something new :’)  be sure to lmk if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

big brother to the rescue.

BEN MILLER

TRIPLE FRONTIER. ┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! hope you're doing well :) i was thinking about a ben miller fic where when they're in the bar towards the beginning the reader is there with her friends and the boys push benny to talk to her bc he's getting distracted from conversation by her across the place. thanks a ton 💖

❝ words: about 1.6k.

❝ a / n: if you'd like to read a second part, lemme know! don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

“C’mon, little brother. She’s been looking at you the whole night”. Will says palming his back, after catching him distracted for the third time.

“Go, before I do”. Frankie challenges him with a petty smile, knowing it’s going to be enough to force the boxer to take the step.

Taking a deep, deep breath, finding in that gesture the encouragement he needs, Benny goes straight to you, waiting for the bartender to serve you another beer.

At first, you don’t notice his presence, until the unknown guy stops by your side leaning too over the bar. You two cross your gazes, sharing a soft smile that makes your knees tremble. The blonde looks really good, but for some reason, you have the feeling that he could be an idiot, so when he throws at you one of those horrible pickup lines, you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna give you advice. Don’t hit a girl like that”. You just reply with a chuckle, referring to his words.

“I’m more into hitting men”.

For a second, where you were about to leave with your drink, you squint at him having a sip and trying to understand the meaning of his affirmation.

“I box, professionally”.

“Oh…” You nod your chin, puckering your lips, showing him that this fact doesn’t impress him at all. “Congrats. Good luck in your next fight”.

Not giving him the chance to continue the talk, you come back to your table under the attentive looks of your friends, who are laughing at the poor guy and the gesture on his face. His brothers, on the other hand, have slapped their faces whilst shaking their heads disappointed. As soon as Benny joins him, Santi slaps the back of his neck, causing him to choke in his beer.

“There must be something wrong with my eyes, ’cause I can’t take them off you? Really, Benny? Really?”

The guys are laughing when Pope repeats his sentence, as Will puts an arm over his shoulders. “You’re lucky to have me… Big brother to the rescue”.

Anna nudges you, making you turn on your stool to watch a second guy walking towards you, very secure of himself. The only thing you wanted tonight was to have fun with your friends and seems it’s not going to be an option. Crossing a leg over the other and nailing an elbow on the table, resting your chin on your palm, you force a smirk when he offers you a kind smile.

“Good nights, ladies, sorry to interrupt. William, a pleasure”.

The man holds your free hand without asking for it to stretch it. Firmly. Like only a soldier would do —as your father does. He turns for a second to his friends, laying his oceanic and hypnotic eyes on you with a charming and funny grimace on his face.

“Sorry ‘bout my brother, you know... too many punches”. He has captivated your friends, who are gasping for him and the honeyed tone he’s using, covered by a raspy voice. “He has watched you looking at him and he was nervous, but he’s not a bad guy. Just a little asshole. But he’s worth it, believe me”.

“Okay”. You reply slowly, raising an eyebrow earning your attention little by little.

“He has begged me to not come, but I think you’re too smart to not have a date with him”.

“Your brother was right, you didn’t have to come. And you’re wrong, more or less. I’m very smart, but having a date with him doesn’t seem a very intelligent idea”.

“Got it. But he’ll be waiting for you at seven in Kaleo’s, tomorrow night”. A negative it’s not an option to the soldier, showing you his perfect white teeth in a huge smile clapping his hands before leaving. “Good night, ladies. Have a good time”.

Since last night, you've been debating with your friends if you should go to the date just to prove both men were wrong. Lucy would call you crying if you text her in case the guy is another idiot.

The first test is to see if he'd wait for you, arriving thirty minutes later than the hour William told you. Your heart can't help but race a little when you find the blonde boxer sitting on the hood of a black Mustang, in front of the restaurant. Wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans, he has both legs crossed and his hands laced over his lap. Head bowed down and a sigh escaping his lips as he checks the clock on his wrist. Poor guy, he's thinking you are not going to come.

You send a picture of him to the chat group where your friends are asking you if he's still there and, in less than a second, you receive a bunch of heart emojis from all of them. Keeping your phone in a pocket, as you tuck in your hands too, you begin to walk towards him. Step by step. Taking your time with a soft smirk curving your lips as you come closer and closer. Watching him texting someone too, you roll your eyes, imagining it's to some random chick to hang out with, due you have stood him up. Until you're almost leaning above his shoulder and you see he's texting his brother —who is very interested in knowing if you're there or not. You melt as he replies: “amma wait another thirty minutes, maybe there's traffic”.

“You can say to your brother I'm here”. You whisper into his ear, taking him by surprise and causing the boxer to jump off from the hood.

“Oh, fuck. You scared the shit outta m— Where you readin' my phone?”

“Nah, I've some witch in me”. You lie terrible, feeling goosebumps on your arms when his gesture changes suddenly.

A grin like a Cheshire cat decorates his face, offering you his phone as he pressed the small microphone in the bottom right corner.

“Hey, big brother, I came. I hope you weren't wrong”.

“I'm Ben, by the way”. He introduces himself as keeping his phone in a pocket, to offer you his right hand.

“(Y/N)”. You stretch it then, feeling a little nervous at his touch.

“So, this is the plan. We have a beer, and if you think I'm a freak, you can run away before dinner. No questions, no explanations. You just… leave”.

God, that's really sweet. He's nervous too and you can see in his blue eyes how scared he is if you really decide to disappear.

“Deal”. You accept, tilting your head to the restaurant.

A couple of minutes later Ben is sitting in front of you and the first thing that captivates your attention is the fact that he doesn't put his phone on the table. Living in the technology era, everybody keeps an eye on their devices. Constantly. But he's not like everybody. He wants to talk. Know about you. What you do in your free time, what you do for a living, what unveils you at night… And you talk for hours.

Ben tells you what pushed him to be in the army, why he decided to dedicate his life to boxing and he also jokes about how you could fix him up after his fighting. Something like a plan of the future. Together. As friends —as he points out to not make you feel uncomfortable, thinking that he is forcing you to have a relationship. You also discover that your taste in music and movies are very similar, just like your hobbies. And that makes you think about the fact that William will tell you “I wasn't wrong”.

The boxer gladly takes you home, not stopping your chat even when one of the two of you doesn't know what to say, Benny has shown you in some way he enjoys too much the sound of your voice though —how it goes a little higher when you're excited about something, how your throat vibrates when you laugh. And he's falling in love with the disgusted tic that wrinkles your nose when you don't like something, in a funny gesture.

You would die for staying together a little more, but you have obligations to attend tomorrow and your friends haven't ceased sending your texts asking you how it's going. As Ben stops his car next to your house, you sigh not knowing what to do —if just say bye, thank you, ask for his number, kiss him? Yes, you'd like to kiss him right now, but what does it say about you? Should you wait until the second date?

“Got a fight tomorrow night if you're free”. His proposition pushes you back to reality, turning at him on your seat while resting a shoulder against it. “You can invite your friends, mine will be there”.

“Your brother too?” You ask giggling, noticing the change on his grimace to somewhat underwhelmed because of your interest.

“Yeah, he will come”. Ben mumbles pressing his lips after nodding briefly.

“Ugh… Is he the kind of person who has fun saying I told you?”

Ben's gesture suddenly changes again. The shine in his blue deep eyes reappears and you provoke him a strong laugh when you furrow your nose like he literally adores.

“You've had a good night then?”

“Yes”. You don't hesitate to respond, leaning towards him to press your lips on his cheek with a loud kiss.

“See? He told you”. Ben can't help but make fun of you, earning a soft punch to his shoulder that makes him laugh one more time. “It's in the Holou gym, at seven”.

“Okay, I'll not forget it”. You reply, taking your phone and setting an alarm an hour before starting to have time to get ready. “Good night, Ben”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish @chibsytelford

[astaroth1357]

Leviathan's Odyssey 5:

God

*Mammon is happily about to break into Lucifer's study yet again when he hears the sound of banging metal and high-pitched shrieking coming from the kitchen... Knowing what the likely source, he swallows his reluctance in order to go check on what's happening*

*Beel is in the kitchen when he runs in, having narrowly dodged the flying butcher knife that lodges into the wall next to his ear… Little Satan is strapped into a high chair, wailing at the top of his lungs and banging his fists against a nearby countertop*

Mammon: BEEL!! What the hell is goin’ on in here!? Weren’t ya in charge of feedin’ him??

Satan: DIE!!!! DIE!! Diedie!!!

*a frying pan appears to float off of its hook and goes flying towards Mammon’s face but Beel manages to grab its handle before it knocks him out*

Beel: I was! But I think I made him mad…!!

Mammon: *gulps when he sees the metal pan just an inch from his nose, but has to push it aside quickly* He’s ALWAYS mad, Beel! What'cha do this time??

Beel: Nothing! *ducks a riocheting butter knife* I just…! Well…

Mammon: Spit it out already!!

Beel: I was trying to teach him how to eat, okay?? But he poked himself with a fork and lost it!

Satan: DIIIEEEE!!!!! 

*previously thrown kitchen supplies lift off of the floor and start flying at them for a round two. Beel rips a cabinet door from its hinges to shield them while Mammon takes the frying pan to bat away the murderous forks and spoons*

Mammon: Beel!! We agreed that we weren’t givin’ him that stuff yet! He’ll kill us all!!

Beel: Yeah, yeah I know but it’s not fair! He should learn how to feed himself like the rest of us!

Mammon: Now’s not the time for “fair,” Beel!!

*apparently hearing the commotion himself, Asmo storms into the kitchen wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a beauty mask - but even covered in cleanser, he look PISSED*

Asmo: WHY IS IT SO LOUD IN HERE!?!

*Mammon grabs Asmo by the arm and pulls him out of the way of an iron cauldron careening his way. Asmo shrieks at the sudden pull and clutches onto Mammon for dear life following the close save*

Asmo: What is the little monster doing now?!? Why are things flying??

Mammon: Quit callin’ him a monster and hell if I know! It’s not like he knows any spells!!

Beel: *whacks away a meat tenderizer aimed at Asmo’s cheek* I think he’s just really mad!

Asmo: *throws his hands up in despair* Of course of all the babies in all the world, we managed to get one that radiates homicide!!

Mammon: Shut your trap and go wake up Belphie! Lucifer’s still with Diavolo so he’s gotta be the one to put him to sleep this time!

Asmo: Me?? Why me??? Belphie won’t get up for me, make Beel do it!

Mammon: Are ya blind AND stupid?? I need Beel here with me! Just scream or something ‘till Belphie wakes up! It’s all you’re good for anyway!

Asmo: Shut up, you money-grubbing dirtbag!!

Beel: NOT THE TIME!! GO NOW!!!

*Asmo yelps a bit at the volume, but he manages to run out of the kitchen without much injury*

Satan: DIE!! Die! Die! DIE!!

Mammon: *pops his head out from behind their cover* Yeah we get it little buddy, ya don’t like us! But would it kill ya to cut it out??

Satan: DIIIIEEEE!!!!!!

*Mammon quickly jerks back behind the "shield" as a set of five knives all lodge themselves into it*

Mammon: Fuck, okay nevermind!!

*it only takes a couple minutes of fighting off the cutlery for Asmo to come back with a drowsy, but upright, Belphie in tow*

Belphie: What’s happening here…??

Mammon: No time for explainin’!

*Mammon swiftly grabs Belphie and sticks him behind Beel before taking the cabinet door from him*

Mammon: Grab another, Beel!

*while Beel rips off the other door, Mammon keeps shouting over the chaos*

Mammon: Belph, ya gotta knock out the kid! Beel and I will protect ya, just stay behind us then get’em outta the chair! Do what ya gotta do after that!

Belphie: *stays right behind Beel but groans* What did you do this time…??

Mammon: Shuddup and move!!

*the three of them start approaching the baby in the high chair, still wailing at the top of his lungs. Between the two cabinet doors and their combined reflexes, Beel and Mammon are able to keep Belphie more or less shielded from the flying utensils until they finally get close enough from him to make a move*

*Belphie jumps forward enough to grab the buckle to Satan’s seat, ignoring his little fists as they try to rip his hair out, and he gets the baby out of the chair as quick as he can manage*

Belphie: Ow!! Okay, lights out, kid!!

*Belphie sticks his hand over Satan’s eyes and, gradually, his struggling loses its gusto until the little baby falls asleep in his arms. All the kitchen supplies fall to the ground and it seems like his tantrum is finally over…*

Mammon: *drops the “shield” he was holding* Oh thank fuck that worked!! No more forks for him, Beel!

Beel: *also sets down his “shield” and looks down guiltily* But how is he ever going to eat right…?

Mammon: We’ll just have to teach him when he gets better.

Belphie: “If” he gets better…

*there’s a silence between the brothers as the gravity of that thought sinks in… What if he never gets any better…?*

*But then the little boy yawns*

Satan: *yaaaawn* Pa…

*all heads in the room snap towards the baby demon and everyone holds their breath. That was a new sound… right?*

Satan: Pa… Per… wish…

Beel: “Per… wish?”

Belphie: I think he meant, “Perish…” 

Asmo: *groans* Of course his second word also means, “Die!”

Mammon: But he’s learnin’! That’s what Lucifer said, right? 

*Mammon comes over and carefully takes the sleeping Satan from Belphie, holding him not unlike how he used to do all of them when they were young*

Mammon: He’ll get better, alright? Believe your big brothers for once! Ya guys weren’t all that different than this...

Asmo: *rolls his eyes* That’s such a lie...

Mammon: Shuddup Asmo, I’m serious! We just gotta be patient…

Beel: Do you think Lilith could have calmed him down…?

*again, there’s another silence in the room… aside from Satan’s soft snoring. For once, it seems like his little brothers are looking at Mammon for something… comfort maybe?*

Mammon: Lilith… *he fights the urge to bite his lip by holding Satan a little tighter* Lilith woulda been patient with’em… Levi too. They’d have helped us out… 

Belphie: If they were still here…

Mammon: *sighs* Yeah Belphie. If they were still here… but we don’t gotta focus on that part, ya know?

*Mammon starts walking towards the exit, patting little Satan on his sleepy head*

Mammon: I’m puttin’ the little shit to bed. Ya got feedin’ duty again tomorrow, Beel. No forks this time.

Beel: *nods quietly* Alright…

Mammon: *stops at the doorway and looks back* Oh. And “not it” explainin’ this mess to Lucifer. Ya gotta figure that out yourselves!

*as his brothers start to shout out in protest, Mammon just laughs triumphantly while he starts down the hallway. Looks like something isn’t his fault for once*

~Meanwhile in the Deepest Depths of the Ocean~

*for the first time since his conquest began, Levi is completely alone in the darkness. Having conquered every part of the seas above, all he has left is the deepest trenches to explore… home to the nightmares even his army refuses to face*

*perhaps being a stranger to this world has helped him. Whatever force commanded his troops to stay above has no sway on his mind. Even Lotan, his most trusted general, wouldn't follow him into these shadows...*

*he's told only one thing lives here. A creature beyond all comprehension... A being without form, without thought, and without convention, and yet festers into consciousness like a blight on all existence... A creature for which all other monsters fear to the point of insanity yet, strangely, Levi remains undaunted...*

*his mantra of loathing shields him as much as it consumes him. He’ll bow to no beast who believes they're better than him, no matter their size or strength. No one can think they’re better than he is... He’ll prove their lives are worthless in the end*

*finding the creature proved easy. He only had to follow the strings of insanity attempting to strangle his mind, growing ever thicker the closer he’d come. A lesser being may have felt helpless approaching it… a shattering insignificance compared to One that Defies All: a primordial essence from which those below the depths are connected and yet through denial believe to be their own... A Greater Power. A God*

*... but he’s fought a God before. All he saw before him now was an Abomination*

*and what he eventually saw skewered on the end of his trident was just another step on his journey of conquest - even as blood the color of madness plumed in the water around him, boiling his skin and contorting his bones... When the ranting clutter in his mind finally quieted, Levi was something new entirely…*

*he didn’t need to return to his army to feel their presence now. His metamorphosis completed when a ghastly wail that escaped his throat, carried telepathically through the waters around him. A clear signal to all who felt it... Above the sea, you’d hear nothing. But below...*

*a cacophony of shrieks. A chorus of howls. The roar of a new Master and the response of an entire ocean now at his disposal...*

*An army of unspeakable terror flourishing just out of sight…*

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[its-kall-the-clown]

Submitted by @twitchyglitchy: don't know if you meant submit as in send something to submit or to just wait for the askbox to open back up but when you get the time perhaps #41 with fatherly Sun Wukong and MK?

--------------------

Sorry, I was opening up the inbox again but then I walked away to get a snack, and then three people submitted this way. So sorry! XD

I think this could be considered the unofficial prequel to THIS and THIS Explains how MK got sick

prompt list

Blurred Lines

Rated: G

Wukong held out his hand a few drops of rain starting to fall against the palm of his paw. He looks up with a frown, the sky's overhead grey with the promise of rain. Judging by how dark the clouds have become in such a short time looks like they were in for a downpour.

He opens his mouth to tell MK their training was over for the day but found he was having to dodge a staff hurtling towards him. Apparently, the kid had not noticed the rain yet or was looking to take advantage of how distracted he was for an easy win.

He smirks shifting to one foot easily, completely dodging the attack, MK expected the blow to land and found when it didn't his balance was off. That was something they really needed stonework on, his balance. It's like MK was compensating for missing weight in his body, he wonders if maybe if MK grew a tail that problem would magically resolve itself.

MK topless forward onto his face and rolls a few feet, till he's laying on his back with a groan.

Monkey king saunters over to the boy a few more drops of rain hitting his fur as he walks.

"Good job today, I think we need to work on your balance though." He offers a hand out to MK who smacks it away and stands up on his own with a grunt. That.. .was unusual. The boy always had a pretty good attitude even when he lost. Never a sore loser when they sparred.

"Again." MK grunts our whipping his nose off on his sleeve with a determined look. The sky above them rumbles with a warning and Wukong's face twists down in a frown. Something was brewing and it wasn't just the storm.

"Let's call it a night kid. It's gonna rain soon." A few more drops fall against his fur and face and MK shakes his head back and forth, droplets flying from his hair. No way the kid didn't notice.

"No we can train a bit longer, rain never killed anyone." He smiles, already taking a challenging stance. Wukong crosses his arms over his chest and feels a tail-flick behind him.

"Not a chance. We're done for today."

MK lets out a sigh and leans against his staff side-eyeing him.

"Hmmm...never thought the great monkey king was afraid of a little water." MK smirks and Wukong stiffens under the jab. His fur bristled under his insulted pride and he smirks back at MK with his tail swishing behind him annoyedly.

"Fine. Smartass. We can keep training but don't come crying to me when the heavens open up." His eyebrow twitches, taking up a defensive stance ready for whatever the boy would throw at him.

Almost as if on cue, the sky opens up and it's a downpour. He opens his mouth to tell MK they couldn't train in this but MK is rushing forward with a war cry on his lips Wukong barely has any time to react dodging and blocking a flurry of blows.

"Mk stop! It's pouring!" He tries to reason with MK who only steps forward into a strike, Wukong barely has time to grab the staff, halting it from bashing his face in. He didn't want to do this, he always goes easy on MK so they could slowly build up to his level, but at this point, the boy wouldn't listen to reason.

He grabs the staff and digs his heel into the ear and shifts his weight. He flips MK over his body slamming them hard into the earth..he hears MK let out a gasp of pain and he worries he's actually hurt the boy.

"Kid oh my gosh! Are you ok-" he reaches for MK who looks stunned on his back looking up at the sky with wide eyes, water dripping down his face and mixing with the earth.

"You have been...holding back on me" MK whispers out his face scrunching up in what could only be described as pain and betrayal. He sits up with anger on his face

"You don't even use all your strength on me??!!!" He yells at Wukong who's now getting a turn to be stunned.

"Well...of course not bud. I don't want to hurt you." He looks soaked to the bone now shivering, his hair hangs limp while his clothes stick to his body.

"That's not fair!!! How can I get stronger if you aren't even trying to train me!" He yells shivering again. Even Wukong could feel the rain soaking his fur and making his clothes heavier.

"Come on MK….I'm doing my best to train you."

Wrong choice of words.

MK's face becomes vacant and broken. Tears now pouring down his cheeks and mixing with the rain.

"What, so you're saying it's MY fault?? That I'm u-untrainable??!" He yells, gripping his hair and tugs.

"That you're doing your best because it's so hard to train me? Cause I'm a failure??" Thunder cracks after a flash of light only serves to illuminate the look of betrayal carved into MKs face.

"Kid stop!" He grabs the boy by his shoulders trying to stop him from spiraling.

"You're doing AMAZING. Your progressing faster than I did at your age. But you GOT to keep in mind that it takes time to get where I'm at." MK sniffs his lip warbling and Wukong grabs his hands to squeeze it reassuringly.

They are shaking like a leaf and are ice cold in his grip.

“Your hands are so cold!" He rubs them together between his paws trying to warm them up. He brings the hands to his mouth breathing hot air into them. It seemed content productive with them standing in the rain.

"Come on. Let's get you inside and dried off, you will catch your death out here." MK nods numbly and Wukong leads him indoors to his stone house where a few monkeys have already holed themselves up for the storm. They chitter and shrieks of concern from the monkeys greet his ears as they fret over both their king and their quote-unquote 'brother'.

Wukong ushers MK to his bathroom where he throws a towel over Their head and tries to absorb all the water that his mop of a head consumed. MK just stands limp allowing him to dry his hair. It's concerning that he hasn't even let out a squeak since they came inside.

"MK…." He pulls the towel away to look at their face. Indoors now, out of the pelting rain, it's so much harder for MK to hide his tears. His cheeks are puffed out and his eyes are red as a constant stream drips down his face and chin adding to the puddle on the floor steadily.

“I just want to do better….be strong like you.” MK’s eyes flit to wukong guilty before looking away to his soaked shoes. It shoves a wedge between Wukongs ribs painfully and presses upward threatening to separate ribs from the flesh.

"Look at me." Wukong titles his chin up forcing Expresso's eyes to look at him.

"You're doing amazing. I want you to know that. Every day you surprise me who how much you have learned. " He explains and he sees the boy's chest hitch slightly another batch of tears joining his.

"I'm very proud of how far you have come." He smiles at the boy whose lip warbles again. A sopping wet body slaps into his as ML throws his arms around his chest and buries his face into his wet clothes. At first, Wukong has no idea how to react, his arms hovering over the wet form but when MK squeezes him tighter he is prompted to wrap his own arms around the boy. He runs his fingers through the wet locks and tries to warm them up with his body. Subconsciously hai tail finds MK's ankle and wraps around it as if he was trying to get every possible grip he could on the boy. He lets out a soothing purr on his chest as if he's coddling his own child instead of his successor.

At this point how could you tell the difference?

The line has been slowly blurred over time like rain against sidewalk chalk to the point he had no idea where he stood on which side.

At this point he couldn't be bothered to care. Which terrified him.

He pulls away eventually but his tail remains around MK's ankle.

"You should head home, you need to change out of your wet clothes so you don't catch a cold. Okay?" He asked, offering a lazy smile to MK who seemed marginally better and lips quirked with a shy smile.

"Okay. Can we still train again tomorrow?" They asked sheepishly and Wukong ruffles the top of his head

"Sure can bud! Bring your A-game because you moved up a level tonight and it's gonna be a bit harder." He smirks again and his words only seem to encourage. MK smiles brightly now, eyes shining with the promise of more difficult training.

"Can't wait!" He beams pulling away already and shakes like a dog adding more excess water to his bathroom floor.

"Okay okay, that's enough. Get on outta here. And take care of yourself."

MK salutes as he backs away from his mentor..

"Sure thing!"

Wukong walks him to the door his tail only letting go of the boy's ankle when he finally is driving away on his noodle cart. He waves to the boy something warm newly sprouted in his chest. The line between mentor and father figure blurring a little more

[wanderinginksplot]

Hello! Um, how about Wrecker with a s/o who has severe childhood trauma, and has a hard time opening up to people other than him?

Hello! First off, thank you so much for this request! It was a good challenge. Secondly, I am so sorry this took as long as it has. I had a pretty uneventful childhood, so I ended up doing a lot of research to write this right, and then I rewrote it about a dozen times... anyway, trauma is only minimally mentioned (at least directly), but I hope you like it!

Wrecker + Traumatized Reader

How did it go today, cyare?" Wrecker asked, dropping a kiss on your cheek. He had just gotten home from a shorter mission with his squad and began stripping off his armor while he waited for your answer.

You always felt silly complaining to him. The things that troopers saw and had to deal with on a daily basis were so much worse than you saw - especially since you were permanently stationed on Coruscant. Still, from the expectant look he sent over his shoulder, Wrecker was waiting for an answer.

"Well…" you started slowly, not sure how much information he wanted, "I think it went okay? The board seemed to like the presentation. The Head Commander said the lack of internal life support in the Phase II armor is an issue they've been looking at for some time. I’m supposed to work on a follow-up. I might throw together some preliminary schematics for a Phase III armor set…"

“Sounds like it went great!” Wrecker encouraged, interrupting you before you could get too lost in your engineering thoughts. You had been known not to emerge for days once you got started. “You've been practicing this presentation forever."

You grinned at him. "Thanks again for being my test audience. I know it isn't something you're really interested in. You guys don’t even wear the Phase II."

"No, but I like listening to you talk," Wrecker told you unabashedly. 

You shook your head a bit at that. "You're such a sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?"

"There's a group of Seppies in the Guard's cells who didn't think I was sweet at all," he told you, sounding mystified. "If it wasn't for Cross, I wouldn't have gotten outta there at all."

You tensed a bit at that, and not only from the reminder of how dangerous his job could be. You knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time… 

"Have you thought any more about it?" Kriff. There it was. You wanted to snap at him, remind him that he was pushing a very firm boundary, but Wrecker sounded so hopeful…

"I- I just don't know, Wreck," you admitted miserably. "I know they're your brothers and I want to meet them, but… it's a lot."

"That's okay," Wrecker said comfortingly. He was doing his best to reassure you, but you could hear the clear note of disappointment in his voice.

Your heart plummeted to your toes. Why couldn't you do this for him? Wrecker was the best, most considerate boyfriend in the galaxy. He was willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the galaxy, for your safety.

"Okay, let's do it," you agreed abruptly. "When do you want to have me meet them?"

"Really?" Wrecker asked, a smile like dawn warming his face.

You nodded and forced an answering smile. You weren't sure how you would handle the pressure of meeting the other members of the Bad Batch, but for Wrecker? You would figure it out.

He ran off to contact the others and your smile faded instantly. From everything Wrecker had told you, Tech was nice and Hunter was quiet, but Crosshair was rarely anything other than abrasive and rude. And that was to his brothers.

You fought a shudder. Being snipped at always reminded you of growing up - and not in a good way. Sarcastic comments were always the first step, then objective-sounding remarks, and then… You didn’t want to think about what had always come next.

But still, this was important to Wrecker, and you were determined to try.

---

The next day, you were anxiously fiddling with your sleeve as you walked to the GAR with Wrecker beside you. The height difference between you always made you feel like a child being escorted around by an adult, but Wrecker normally took your teasing complaints as the jokes that they were. 

You weren’t saying anything at all that day.

“Hey,” Wrecker said gently, grabbing your hand and stilling the fingers that were slowly unraveling your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at him. “What if they don’t like me?”

Wrecker made a strangled sound, like he had started to laugh but thought better of it. “Of course they’re going to like you! Why wouldn’t they like you? And even if they hated you, I like you. And I’m the important one here.”

You wanted to laugh at his exaggerated pout, but the corners of your mouth felt like they were attached to weights as you gave a tight nod and refocused on walking. Wrecker, however, wasn’t having it. Using the light grip he still had on your hands, he tugged you to a stop, forcing the rest of the foot traffic to part around his broad figure as he bent to talk to you.

“Say the word, cyare, and we’ll go home right now.”

“What? No!” you denied immediately. “I said I would meet your brothers, and I meant it. Why? Have you decided you don’t want them to meet me?”

“Of course I want you to meet them!” Wrecker told you. He brushed a hand against your face, smoothing the frown line you could feel forming between your eyebrows. “But I don’t like seeing you this way. If it’s too much, we don’t have to do this. I meant what I said: we can go home right now.”

You searched his face and found only heartwarming sincerity. He meant it. If you said you weren't up for this, he wouldn't be upset or hurt. He wouldn't sulk or find ways to punish you. Nothing would change between you. 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," you assured him.

Wrecker was your safe space - the exact opposite of everything you had dealt with growing up. He pushed your boundaries, but he made you stronger. As you tripped through the crowd by his side, the idea soothed you more and more until you couldn't stand it.

"Wrecker, wait," you pled, pulling on his arm. 

It was a surprise he had even felt the pull, honestly, but he was so attuned to you that he stopped immediately. He looked down at you with open concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I love you," you blurted, and your face grew hot so quickly that you felt a little dizzy.

"You love me?" Wrecker asked, sounding stunned.

"…yeah…" you said slowly. You weren't really sure why you had needed to say it right that moment, but you knew that you meant it. Wrecker was everything to you, and it had been enough to prompt an admission of feelings that you had never thought you would be able to verbalize.

He was still staring at you and you were getting nervous. "Anyway, we should probably get to the GAR," you told him, striving for a casual tone.

"Forget the GAR! You love me!" The next thing you knew, Wrecker had lifted you up and spun in a quick circle that left you dizzy for sure this time. "I love you, too! We need to go celebrate!"

He set you down and had started down the street in the direction you had come from, dragging you along by your hand as you alternated between laughing and trying to get him to stop.

"Wreck, we can't just not show up to meet your brothers," you protested. "They're waiting for us!"

Wrecker paused, glanced back at you, and heaved a deep sigh. "Fine," he grumbled, walking back toward your original destination. "They get twenty minutes, then I need you all to myself."

The dark-eyed look he sent your way made your mouth go dry. "Fifteen minutes."

He laid a searing kiss on your lips. "Deal."

---

To your shock, the Bad Batch was less intimidating than you had thought they would be. Hunter even made an effort to talk to you.

“So, what is it you do for the GAR?” he asked, dark eyes startling in his half-tattooed face.

“I- uh, I’m an engineer,” you explained. “I helped design the updates implemented in the Phase II trooper armor. Joint Kamino-Coruscant effort and all of that. I didn’t have anything to do with commando armor, though.”

Hunter shrugged. “Still, I’ve heard good things about the Phase II. You did nice work.”

“Thanks!” you said, only slightly too loud. “There are a few things that got lost in translation due to budgetary issues. One of my ideas was to add in a new scope for the larger rifles, one that would acclimate to counter visual disruptions. Brightness, direct sunlight, reflections, and so on. It had a couple other features that were popular with the ARCs and commandos who tested it. Alpha-17 on Kamino said he was keeping his, even though it was just a prototype.”

“Wish I coulda seen that,” Crosshair muttered, his first contribution to the conversation.

“You kind of can,” you offered. “I have a few prototypes left. I brought one along in case you wanted to give me any feedback. I still have hopes for the Phase III…”

Crosshair eyed the scope you were holding out to him, face full of suspicion even as he accepted it from you. He examined it closely for several minutes, dialing in and out of various features as you watched. Eventually, he nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Looks good,” he reluctantly praised, handing the scope back.

You didn’t take it from him. “Actually, that’s a tactical prototype. If you were interested, I would love for you to use it in the field as long as you let me know how it holds up.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows shot up and he chewed his toothpick thoughtfully as he stared at the scope. You weren’t above a little bribery, and had made a few tweaks based on Crosshair’s preferences. Granted, those preferences had been relayed by Wrecker, a man whose go-to weapon was bare hands… 

To distract yourself, you looked to Tech. He had been quiet, almost silent, for most of the meeting. From everything you had been told, that was unusual. 

“Tech, Wrecker tells me that you’ve been analyzing statistical data about your squad to maximize your effectiveness. What kind of variance are you looking at?”

Tech stared at you for a long moment. “A difficult question to answer, as the variance has increased significantly since you and Wrecker met.”

“Excuse me?” you asked politely, taken aback by his implication.

“The frequency at which Wrecker is injured has increased by roughly 2.7% since the two of you started your relationship.”

“Tech,” Hunter reprimanded sharply.

“Ease off,” Crosshair said, voice low.

You glanced at Wrecker, sitting tensely beside you. “You didn’t tell me you were getting hurt on your missions.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, glaring at Tech.

“By my calculations, this places his risk of a fatal accident at 9% and growing,” Tech finished, unbothered by Wrecker’s glare or his brothers’ words of warning. “Added to the fact that Wrecker wears less armor than a trooper of his size should, he is highly at risk.”

“What is this about your armor?” you asked Wrecker, pinching his side when he avoided looking your way.

“Hey! That hurt!” he complained, finally looking down at you.

“Not as bad as a piece of shrapnel would!” you lectured him. “As soon as we get home, I’m going to start working on a better set of armor for you. I have some leftover plates from the commando armor comparison. I can use that as a basis…”

“What about your Phase III?” Wrecker asked, a bit desperately.

“That doesn’t matter!” you snapped. “If I can’t keep you safe, none of it matters! I’m designing heavy-duty armor for you, you’ll participate in extra drills with your team until you get used to it, and I want a report on every injury, minor or not!”

“Told you,” Hunter said, sounding satisfied.

“Five credits,” Crosshair sighed.

“The deal was twenty,” Tech argued, then allowed himself a small smile. “I like them.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed.

Crosshair, studying his new scope, just nodded. You caught only bits of their conversation, though, since you were still semi-arguing with Wrecker.

“C’mon, let’s go back to your place,” Wrecker pled.

“So I can get started on your armor right away?” you asked. “Good idea!”

“But… you love me,” Wrecker pouted.

You softened and leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the scoffs and smothered chuckles from his brothers. “I do, Wrecker. I love you so much that I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Now let’s go.”

Wrecker sighed heavily, but clambered to his feet and waved goodbye to his brothers as he followed you out.

---

A/N - I don’t actually know if the Bad Batch wears Phase II clone trooper armor or Katarn-class commando armor, so I just went with commando armor and modified helmets.

Thanks for reading! You can see other works like it here or feel free to request something of your own!

[palbabor-writes]

I just wanna say I love you and your writing! ❤️ You are a blessing to me, I always start freaking out whenever I see you post a new thing. YOU DESERVE WAY MORE ATTENTION JFHDJEJHEHE but may I have a smudge of virgin! dabi or shiggy with a dom! reader? Handjobs, blowjobs, deepthroating , riding them, the whole SHABOOM SHABANG PLEASE AND THANK YOU

daw, my love! you’re amazing & tysm for your support, it means so, so much to me. like, i can’t even tell you how happy i am to hear that.

& of course you can! i opted to go with Dabi, since i haven’t explored this topic with him yet & ever since i saw this ask i cannot get the fumbling, blushing, asshole that he’d be outta my mind. seriously, the topic of this ask has lived there, rent free, for dayyyyys. 

warnings: SMUT/18+ only, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, blowjobs and general fuckery

Things between the two of you had never been slow, or usual, or sentimental. Actually, love hasn’t come into the equation at all. It’s more like, easing an itch. But if you scritched and scratched it just right, god, it was divine. 

Dabi never let things get too far. He’d always bat you away, or roll to his side of the bed, broad back shutting you out, keeping you firmly in your own lane. Oh he’d kiss you and cup at your curves, but he never let you return the favor, snapping and snarling a string of curses and threats when you got too close.

He was like some sort of feral dog.

You could place the food down and leave the blanket out, but if you got too near, too comfortable, then the teeth would inch forward, keen, ready to bite.

At first, you’d figured it was simply who he was. He was short tempered and brittle and this extended to all members of the league. Not even Shigaraki was spared his jabs. It’s a miracle he’d let you step within sniffing distance. 

His fingers are always warm when they touched you, warm and calloused, whittled down to cinders and dark ash. He’s never gentle. Each caress is a challenge, some sort of task that needs to be dominated, beaten, acquired. It’s almost like he slips into some other mindset when he presses into you. He’s got to keep ahead, must win each pairing until there’s no question of who the victor is. 

Once, you’d managed to pin him under you. 

He’d relented the second your clothed center brushed against his burgeoning hardness, breath stolen, cerulean eyes wide. You’d never seen him like that before and you’d paused, hips lingering over his, head cocked to one side. 

“What?” you’d asked, voice soft in the darkness. He hadn’t answered, but his fingers trembled when they reached for you, urging you back into that age old shift and grind. When you passed over that bulge again he’d groaned, fire bright eyes slipping behind his quaking eyelids. 

Your hands cupped at his marred face, digits tracing over his too hot staples, awed at his unbidden reaction and the dusty stain of his blush. The rhythm you’d started began to deepen and he’d nearly arched under you when you rose up on your knees, but, unfortunately, you’d forgotten something vital as you let yourself be swept away by his ragged eagerness. 

It’s dangerous to let your guard down when you’re petting a wild thing.

As soon as your eyes winced closed, the world toppled to bits around you and Dabi shoved you from him, coiling away. “Get out,” he’d growled, eyes sharp as flint, arms wrapping around his bent knees. “Get the fuck outta here, before I...before I throw you out.”

So, you’d left; but you hadn’t forgotten. 

Days later, he’d stormed back into your room, eyes wild, skin blazingly hot to the touch. You’ve never seen him like this and you shift from your bed, pressing him to sit on the crumpled sheets. He looks like he’s seconds from shattering and his hands keep combing over his inky mop of hair, pricking the edges until they bristled from the static. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hands patting over him, searching for the hurt. His skin feels damp and you splay your fingers over his heart, bewildered by the frantic pounding of the muscle. 

“Nothing,” he begins, voice tight, eyes refusing to meet your own.

Liar, you think, plucking at the white fabric of his shirt and shifting your touch to his back, praying your hand doesn’t come back red. He’s shit at taking care of himself and there’s always some fresh burn or loosened staple that’s etched across him each time he comes back to the hideout. It’s almost like he’s trying to mar and maim himself. 

“Dabi, you’re burning up...”

“It’s not...at least...I don’t think that...It’s not my quirk.”

“Okay, then what is wrong? This isn’t normal, so don’t tell me I’m overreacting. If you’ve pushed yourself too far you need to–”

“I just said it isn’t my quirk,” he snarls, and his eyes finally lift. The sight almost knocks you backwards. They’re vivid, despite the low light, but his pupils are blown and the black is eating away at the familiar shock of blue. He looks hungry.

“Dabi...Dabi what were you–”

“I tried to forget it,” his voice is dissonant, hollow, and you can feel your breathing kicking up as your heart starts to thrum against your breastbone. “I thought that I could...take care of it...but it’s not...it doesn’t work. I can’t...I can’t...look what you’ve done. Look at what you’ve fucking done!” 

Fingers curl under your bent arms and he hoists you onto his lap, slotting you over spread thighs, his mismatched lips dragging across your own. He’s sloppy and teeth clink as you settle, arms wrapping around his broad neck, digits coiling into his hair. He sucks and nips at your bottom lip, pressing until he’s lured a few moans from your throat, smirking as they vibrate into the chilled air. 

You know what he was doing now. 

How could you miss it, when it’s jutting against the swell of your ass, poorly concealed under the thin material of his sweatpants. Popping up on your knees forces him to break free of your kiss shined lips and you chuckle at his disgruntled scowl. 

“Want me to take care of that for you?” your voice is quiet, but he startles at the question, body quaking as a hiss leeches through his clenched teeth.

“Get on the bed.”

“I am on the bed,” you retort.

He clicks his tongue and you find yourself forfeiting your top position as he knocks you off of his lap, tumbling you onto your mattress. His lean body is bracing over you and he stills your protestations with another kiss. This time he’s smoother, tongue pressing past the barrier of your lips, twining and urgent. Warm fingertips tease along your dips and curves, pinching at your skin. He greedily swallows each gasp that you give him and keeps the pressure up, one hand cupping under your neck, tugging you closer. 

Distractedly, you start to pull at his tattered shirt but once you touch his rippled stomach, he yanks himself back. Not again, you inwardly groan, head flopping against the sheets. You can see him a little clearer from this angle and you study his abashed continence, unable to hide the smile that pulls at your lips. 

“Don’t...” he trails off, nose wrinkling as he looks away from you once more.

“It’s okay,” you bargain, fingertips tickling up his sides, delighted with the sheer heat of him. “We can just do this. I don’t–”

“I don’t want this,” he grits, jaw tense, hands fisting into the bedding.

“Alright,” you sigh, still toying with his shirt. “What do you want?”

“More.” 

It’s a simple demand, almost comically cliché, especially considering who’s uttering this from his scarred lips, but it still makes you shudder, a slick clench passing over your core. 

You bite your lip and he gives you a gleaming smirk, teeth shining in the moonlight. He’s tempting, but he’ll always be a danger; it’s too bad that’s part of his charm.

He moves with an agility that leaves you breathless and his fingers are unfastening the ties of your sleeping pants so quickly that you swear they blur. In an instant, cool air is lapping against your dampened curls and he’s already pressing a curious finger over you.

One arm is braced beside your head but his attention is wholly focused on the mysteries he’s finally revealed. You can hear his breath, hitching and panting as he blunders his way into your folds. His touch is rough, too rough, and you arch away, fingers knocking him from you.

Dabi sucks his teeth at your impudence, jerking you back to him as he slides closer to his prize. You can feel his exhales as they ghost over you, so close it makes you buck toward the tempting warmth. He notices and shifts downward, lining his inquisitive nose with your slit.

“You smell good,” he informs you, sucking in a heady lungful, a lazy grin stretching his staples. “Didn’t know that was a thing.”

That prodding index finger is back and it’s just as clumsy as it slips and skids across your flushed labia. He tries to slide it forward but he’s over estimated your entrance and it fumbles into nothing, a lone nail scratching as he passes. Your thighs instinctually clamp around him and he lets out another frustrated huff. “Stop that! How am I supposed to feel you up if you keep scooting away? Stop being such a bitch about it. It’s not–”

“It hurts you jackass. That’s why I’m moving. How would you like it if I just started pulling and clamping my fist on your dick? You’ve got to slow down. Here...” Your arms slip beside your ribs and you sit up, spreading your legs as your hand moves to your cunt, granting his wide eyes a good view. “It’s one thing to touch me, it’s something else entirely if you’re going to literally poke at me. Give me your hand.”

Dabi balks at your request, a dark glower breaking over his face. “I can do it on my own. I don’t need your help–”

“If you really think that, then you can fuck right back off to your own room. Go on. Gloomily masturbate yourself to sleep, hoping that the scent of me on your fingers will be enough to push you over the edge. But I don’t think you can, not when you know what you can have instead of your fist.”

His nostrils flare at the lewd bluntness of your words, but he doesn’t protest further, slipping his calloused and burned hand into your grip, submitting himself to your control.

You pry his index finger from the others and lower it to yourself, gliding him against you, showing him how you like to be touched. As you crest his finger tip over your clit he gasps at the shudder you give him, jaw askew and pupils blown. 

“Pay attention,” you scold, hips arching forward as you repeat the motion. “Use your thumb too. Yes, like that. Ah– very good. Think you’ve got it from here?”

He doesn’t give you any kind of verbal response, opting to swipe his pink tongue over his lips and scoot closer instead. As soon as your hand drops from his, he tests out his freedom, fingers inquisitive, almost gentle. He’s learned that it only takes a few swift tweaks to have you bowing under him and if he adds a circular pressure to the motion you’ll call out his name. 

When his tongue swipes up your budding arousal you keen for him, hands grabbing for the side of his head, fingers tugging against his hair. “Ouch! That’s not fucking fair,” he grumbles, the jagged texture of his lips sucking at you. “I can’t be rough but you get to do whatever the fuck you want, huh?”

“Shut up,” you gasp, marveling at the speed of his touches. He’s gained some confidence and each time you praise him the tips of his fingers heat up, applying a sinful warmth to your dripping pussy. “Oh, fuck, yes! Do that again, that felt so good. God, you’re perfect Dabi, so fucking perfect.” 

The groan that escapes him creates a marvelous vibration along your folds and your legs shake beside his broad shoulders. When he lets out another choked moan you belatedly notice that the edge of your bed is shaking. It’s a cadenced motion and you tilt your head to one side, searching for the source. 

Oh.

It’s Dabi. His legs are half propped against the bed and he’s worked his hips against the corner of the mattress, rutting himself in time with his slurps and pulls. When he yanks himself back you can see the spidery thread that’s attached itself to the sheets, strung from the deepening saturation that’s expanding across the front of his sweatpants. The sight of him, so lost in your taste and smell that he’s humping himself off, makes your cunt tighten, rings of muscle winking and closing against nothing.

“D-Dabi,” you eke out, eyes rolling back as he seals his lips around your clit again. “Use your...your fingers.”

“What?” he murmurs, voice disjointed and thin.

“Put your fingers in me.”

The demand has him shifting upward, slick chin and lips glistening in the moonlight. He gives you a few blinks, but then the full meaning hits him and he leers down at you. “I wanna put something else in you.”

You shake your head at him and his grin shifts to a scowl. “Why not?”

“You won’t last.”

“Bitch,” he grunts, wiping his mottled arm across his face, smearing your arousal off. “The fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’ll–”

“Stand up.”

“What?” His brows furrow and his lip sets into a tense pull.

“Stand up,” you repeat, already pulling your bare legs from under him.

“Why do you get to give all of the orders? You’re not the boss. I don’t have to listen to any of this bull–”

“Dabi, stand up and I’ll suck you off. It’ll make it easier, trust me.”

The words suck and off appear to leave him in the lurch, but he sways backwards all the same, hands already digging into his sopping pants. He rattles out a low whimper as he unsticks himself from the loose fabric, and you can’t help but smile at his renewed blush. Seconds later, they pool at his ankles with a quiet shush and you scoot forward, fingers itching to touch him. 

He’s an impressive specimen.

The length and girth of his swollen cock curves haughtily upward and you eye the rosy tip ravenously. That long string of precum has broken and it coils thickly against his velvety skin, so bright that it shines. You look up at him before your hand curls around his cockhead and he looks absolutely lost. In a matter of minutes this imposing man has gone from feral stray to placid pup and it’s all thanks to you. Awash in your own power, you wrap as much of him as you can in your grip, squeezing and pulling as you ease up to his sloppy cusp, gathering the cables of his want as you go.

When you start back down he lets out a very un-Dabi like yelp, eyes fading behind tensed eyelids. “Feel good?” you ask, adjusting your hold, repeating the upward slide.

He nods, clenched teeth bared as he tries his best to contain his wanton grunts and groans. “Dabi,” you taunt playfully, holding at his tip, dancing your finger pad over his bubbling slit. “I can’t hear you. I asked if if felt good?”

Cerulean eyes crack open and he fixes you with a blazing stare, but he ruts his hips forward all the same, his body oblivious to his outward need for control. Your fist clenches around him and the whine that leeches out of him is heavenly. 

“Answer me, now.”

“Ye-yeah,” he stumbles over the word, bottom lip quivering. “I want more though.”

“Oh? Think you deserve that? You couldn’t even focus enough to get me off a second ago.”

“What? You told me to stand up!”

“Mmm, yes. You’re right. You’re such a good boy, Dabi. So obedient and ready for praise.”

He tries to pull himself away, but another cant of your wrist has him stopping dead in his tracks, upper thighs shaking as you renew your tugs. “There we go,” you croon. “Look how big you get when I tell you how well you’re doing. You’re so hard baby, I know you wanna cum for me. You want me to swallow it all down? Think you can give me enough?”

Dabi flops forward at your last question, shoving himself into your tightening fist, doing his best to get close to the sinful temptation of your lips. When you surge onto your knees his hands snatch at your shoulders, blindly yanking you to his parted lips. 

His kiss is so distracted it can hardly be called a caress. Your lips merely rest against his and he breathes into you, sucking up your exhales with a frantic need. “Suck me off,” he gasps, eyes blearily meeting your own, the blue a glassy haze. “Suck me off, suck me off, suck me off.”

It’s like he can only ask for one thing now, hips pistoning forward as a long burst of precum oozes from him. The heat of this pre release is so hot it feels like it’s scalding the back of your hand, but you hardly notice the pain, too wrapped up in his trembling malleability. 

“Ask me nicely.” The request is whisper quiet and he instinctually shakes his head, forehead lowering to rest against the flat plane of your collarbone. “No? That’s too bad love. You were doing so well, being so good and so nice.”

When your hand starts to loosen that hard earned pressure he relents, own hands grabbing your upper arms as he holds you to him. “I want you...fucking damn it...I want you to let me fuck your mouth. I wanna fuck you. I want...I–”

“None of that came with a please.”

“Hnnnng,” he groans, lifting his head to sink his teeth into the dip of your shoulder, biting and nipping, vainly attempting to distract you.

“That won’t work,” you say melodically, listening to him slurp up some of his excess drool from your newly dampened skin. “It’s just one word. Say it and I’ll get down on my hands and knees. I’ll wrap my lips around this fucking perfect cock and suck on you until you can’t think. I want your cum. Fuck, I want it so bad. So be a good boy, hmm? Be my good boy, my only, and I’ll let you–”

“Please! Please, please, please, please! Fuck! Please suck on me, put your fucking slutty little mouth on me! Plea– oh...fuck!”

He tastes like the sea, all salt and brine. It lingers deliciously on the tip of your tongue. 

You dip yourself lower, mouth voraciously edging forward, sliding your seeking appendage under his length, tracing up the long sets of veins you find. Dabi curves himself over your head, fingers cupping behind your ears as he forces you into a quick rhythm. You’d dictated his movements earlier, so it’s only fair you give him a little leeway of his own, at least, for now. 

The mixture of suction and wet heat soon proves too much for him. His hips are already faltering, hesitating on each outward and inward lurch. It’s too much, but it’s also nowhere near enough. 

His voice is broken and his staples snag against your hair, but he refuses to let up, not until he’s gotten what he wants. He can feel your abused throat seizing around him and he’s intoxicated by the feeling. He wants you to choke on him, to gag on him, to run yourself raw. 

He might have said some of these wishes out loud. He’s not sure. Not when the world is so torrid and sloppy and searing with a lure that he can’t live without, not anymore.

Why had he waited so long?

This isn’t even your cunt. God, you’d smelled so fucking good and the taste, fuck, it’ll be years before he can wash that flavor from his lips, or his mind. Goddamn it, it’s not enough.

Dabi cums with a shout. The feeling of his release, as it singes the back of your throat, is abrupt and you sputter, hands doing their best to get you away from the otherworldly temperature of this man. He’s too blissed out to notice your lips slipping from him and some of his cum splatters over your bent knees, sizzling as it hits your unprotected skin. 

You wipe at the remainder of him and collapse backwards, head hitting the cool sheets with a dull flop. As you catch your breath you listen for him. He’s still perched at the end of your bed, but you can hear his breathing as it steadies. He’ll likely leave, you think, arms curling beside your head. He’ll grab his pants and go back to his room and that will be–

The grip of his hand startles a hiss from you and you soon find yourself blinking up at his leering grin. He’s jerked you downward again, but this time he’s slotting himself between your thighs, warm fingertips already teasing at your budded clit.

“I’m not done.”

tags: @libiraki - since i teased you with some of it earlier :3c                    

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Avenger Things - Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader

Summary: You’re just trying to make it through the day without breaking anything, or anyone.

Warning: language, fluff, bit of nonesense

Masterlist

Practically limping into the Avengers large kitchen you couldn’t believe how sore you were from, well, let’s just say you’re not entirely so sure. What you do know is that it’s the morning after a stealth mission and your more beastly self, if that’s even the correct term, must have done or gotten into something last night that might have knocked you out cold. 

Hence the memory loss.

Honestly you could laugh, it’s like trying to figure out what drunk you was getting themselves into. Problem is, this “drunk you” at the time was 2.4lb of absolute raging adrenaline with an apparent lack of safety awareness and good judgment skills. 

Not a good combination. Also you were a hawk.

So here you are, piecing together the jumbled puzzle of last night while you make an attempt at finding breakfast before the crowds come noisily shuffling into the temporarily quiet hang out room slash luxurious kitchen, of the famous Avengers Facility. Ah, the life of an Avenger who’s fantastical ability allows them to shift into any animal in existence.

Although it’s a blessing, you sometimes suffer the consequences of being an actual avenger, and shit, your left shoulder and rib cage are so sore right now you could scream. Your accelerated healing has already kicked in but alas that does not mean your body will spare you some soreness and bruising.

“Fuck what did I do?” You mutter grumpily while reaching for the fridge door handle, making certain not to pull to hard for fear of ripping the metal right off.

Soon your eyes scan over the multitude of various healthy snacks and equally as healthy leftovers due to Steve’s insistent attitude towards fueling yourselves with the best, to be the best or some cheesy hero shit like that.

Spotting your left over hidden burrito in the back of the fridge sends an excited thrill into your otherwise tired and achy self, you snatch it up quickly, and without thinking pull the metal door off its hinges while quickly trying to close it.

Shit.

Tossing the burrito onto the nearby counter top, you swiftly grasp the large food filled door with both hands as you hold it up with ease. Well this is just a fantastic situation isn’t it? Apparently you’re incapable of having an easy morning like just previously planned. Wait are those footsteps?

“You know, you can just have Tony buy you a mini fridge for your room.” Quips Sam with an amused chuckle as you quickly snap your head over to the startling sound. “I think he could afford it.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise before narrowing in annoyance at his happily smirking face, Bucky and Vision right behind him to your great pissed-off-ness. “Fuck off I didn’t mean to do....this.” But of course it happens to me.

Eyeing you up with a face that practically says “I know but this is hilarious” Sam nods before sitting down on the bar’s stool, Vision coming to your aid as he phases through the counter to take the fridge door out of your hands.

“Thanks Vis.” You mutter with an appreciative nod.

Setting down the door onto the floor, Vision turns to greet you, “No problem Y/N, it appears you needed the help, I’ll just um....go inform Tony of this....fridge.” He says before turning to leave out the way he came. Guess he’s not one for awkward situations.

Watching him go you suddenly glare down at the two whispering Avengers seated in front of you on the other side of the counter, “Thanks for helping assholes.” You growl unenthusiastically, reaching into the fridge to pick up a water bottle.

“Oh doll, we would have helped you.” Assures Bucky with a kind smile as you force yourself to keep a stoic face. “Vision seemed to handle it pretty well on his own.”

“Yeah well now this fucking fridge is broken and I still feel sore.” You complain with a sneer as Bucky and Sam share a chuckle.

“What?” Laughs Sam, “Don’t tell me you both?....and after the mission too?” He implies with raised brows as you send him the most done-with-your-shit face you can muster.

Sensing your growing irritation, Bucky speaks up, “No, no....definitely not that..it was the mission.”

“Oh shit you’re right.” Realizes Sam as you roll your eyes at him, let’s just say that last mission was a rough ending one. Also you can’t remember much after shifting into a hawk, seeing some bright lights and then...

“Yes.” You grumble, “and I’ve come to the thrilling conclusion that I must have gotten hit by a car......so that’s fun.” You mutter with as much enthusiasm as a stick, causing both Bucky and Sam to begin laughing again. What the hell is so funny?

Listening to them lose it inevitably causes you to start chuckling which in turn causes your ribs to shoot with a hot flaring pain. Holding your injured side you use your other hand to pound against the marble table, “Stop laughing this shit hurts and neither of you dumbfucks are helping.” You grumble half-heartedly.

“Alright.” Says Bucky standing up, “Come on doll let’s get outta here and get a heating pad on that tire mark under your shirt.” He adds sarcastically with another laugh.

Letting out a quick snort you shake your head at his handsome face, “Okay smartass I’ll let that one slide.”

He smirks at your good humored reaction and admittedly adorable messy hair, “I’m thinking we get cozy, watch that weird pirate movie you like with the Sparrow guy, and then see where it takes us.” Suggests Bucky with a lazy smile as he stretches his arm causing his shirt to rise up and reveal a bit of toned tummy.

Sam whines, “What? We have sparring at three this afternoon and you’re gonna leave me hanging for Miss. Grouchy-pants over here?” Points out Sam to Bucky as you cross your hands over your chest while raising a brow.

“Yup.” Quips Bucky with a shrug.

Sam blinks, “Unbelievable.”

“I like Y/N more.”

“You suck and I need a new sparring partner now.”

“Just ask Steve or Nat.” You suggest, not caring much for Sam’s problems at the moment.

“No they’re hard-core and mean.”

“Spar with Clint then.” Adds Bucky.

“No he cheap shots.”

“And I got hit by a car last night we all got problems.” You sass, gaining their distracted attentions once again. “Try and steal Bucky from me and I will make sure you remember what getting a wet towel slapped across your ass feels like.”

“Very specific and greatly noted Y/N. He’s all yours.” Says Sam while raising his hands defensively, “By the way you look rather stunning today did I mention that yet?”

“Don’t press your luck bird boy I’m not known to be very forgiving.”

“Clearly.” Jabs Sam under his breath while you take a swig of water, though you’re increased hearing enables you to catch that loud and clear.

After twisting the cap back on you immediately chuck it at his head, conveniently nailing him right in the temple causing him to yelp in surprise. “Jesus!” He shouts before falling off of the stool and onto the wooden floor below.

“Nope just me.” You deadpan with a satisfied smirk, walking over to Bucky while Sam gathers his bearings.

Bucky immediately throws an arm around you, making sure not to squeeze you too tight in the process. Leaning into his warm side, Sam throws you a half annoyed glare, showing how much he’d like to retaliate but also knowing he’s outnumbered in more ways then one.

“As much as I’d like to see you two beat each other’s ass right now.” Suddenly announces Steve, “We have a mission report in five.”

“What?” You sigh in annoyance, “Really? Right now? Can’t this shit wait?”

Steve sends you an apologetic smile, understanding you’re still in pain and thus very grouchy, “It’ll be quick. The team just needs to go over some credentials about the mission yesterday. Then you can go about your day off.”

Holding Bucky close, you pull him in a little closer, eyeing up Steve defensively, “Bucky too.”

Steve gives you an unsure look, “Well uh...”

“That wasn’t a question Rogers.” You growl, causing Steve to take a cautious step back as Sam lets out a chuckle.

“Yeah Cap I wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Nods Steve, “Yeah, you two are off the rest of the day after the meeting. Uh, see you guys then.” Waves the man with a plan himself, smartly deciding not to linger for much longer or face another steely glare from you.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” You mutter, parting from Bucky to lead the way down the hall to the usual meeting room.

——

After nudging Bucky to go on ahead to claim your unofficial official meeting chairs, you swung by your room to put on a sweatshirt and now are finally, though begrudgingly, making your merry way down the hall and into the expensive meeting room. 

Hood up, you trudge into the brightly lit area, practically squinting as the sunshine hits you like a blinding wall through the obnoxiously giant glass windows. “Nice of you to join us Y/N. Get lost on your way here?” Quips Clint as the whole entirety of the Avenger’s turn their heads to face you. 

“No, I just didn’t want to come.” You deadpan with a humored glare, earning a couple snickers from your friends. 

“Yeah that’s fair.” He shrugs.

Plopping yourself down in the facility’s decently comfortable swivel chair, you slouch tiredly, leaning your body against the arm rest to keep your bruised side from bothering you more then it already does.

Bucky is already in the seat to your left, Sam opting to snatch the one across from you two, while Vision and Wanda have claimed the seats to Sam’s right. Natasha and Steve sitting at the two chairs at the far end to your left, while Clint stands. 

“So...” Begins Clint, the apparent leader of todays meeting, “Yesterday’s mission in Quebec was a challenging one, I won’t lie to you. We took a hit, some more then others.” Nods Clint in your direction.

“You’re fucking hilarious.” You mutter, rolling your eyes in annoyance as Sam and Bucky hold in their laughter, while the others ignore the obvious implication, keeping it professional and in your good graces. 

“Thank you Y/N I know. Anyways, I think our team training days have improved our performance and been worthwhile. Now, as usual, Steve and Nat...great leadership skills. Vision, Wanda, the whatever the shit you guys are able to do, amazing...keep it up.” Clint glances back down at his notes while you yawn, “Sam and Bucky, nice recovery at the end, things where getting heated and you both really pulled through.”

“Hell yeah.” Smirks Sam as he leans over to fist bump Bucky from across the table.

Practically lowering yourself deeper into your seat, you mentally prepare yourself for whatever smartass comment you’re about to get from Clint. He looks down at his notes then moves to pick up a thin metal remote that connects to the blank screen behind him. 

“Uhh lets see here,” He mumbles while clicking some buttons that inevitably turn the screen on, “Okay good it works.” Swiveling around on his heal, Clint points the remote directly at you, “Y/N.” He says with a mischievous grin.

“Clint.” You point back in confusion, side eyeing Wanda nervously.

“Let’s talk...” Stretching out his arm, he clicks the remote to reveal a PowerPoint, “about safety awareness.”

Okay fuck you.

Chuckling tensely you shake your head, “I’d rather not.”

“Which is precisely why we...meaning you all,” Motions Clint to all of you with both his hands in two circles, “need to be educated on safety in the field.” A second later he flicks the lights off with a swift click of the remote, Okay great.....slide number one, do you have a buddy?”

As Clint keeps droning on and on for the next five minutes you suddenly decide to scoot over to rest your chin against Bucky’s right shoulder that's leaning against the table. He immediately smiles, turning his head away from an obliviously jabbering Clint, “Buck I’m going to commit a crime in the next two minutes if I don’t get the fuck out of here.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder for emphasis.

Biting his lip to refrain from laughing, he reaches to take one of your hands with his, “And what crime will I have to admit in the police report?” He quietly muses.

“Murder.”

Kissing the pack of your hand to help you try and relax for the moment, he smirks, “Y/N it’s going to be difficult to break you out of jail.”

“Not if I don’t get caught.” You quip smartly while resting your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been contemplating taking out Clint since 2012 but then Natasha always stops me.”

“What’s stopping you now?” Challenges Bucky with the tiniest snort of amusement.

“Natasha.” You mutter, “Also I’m god-mother to one of his kids so I’m morally not allowed to kill him.....but I’ve never been more tempted then today.” 

“Shh.” Whispers Bucky with an amused smile as you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more then to leave this boring meeting. Fine, but if it was just me and Clint I would pummel his ass into the wall without a second thought, you think to yourself.

A moment later Wanda lets out a random snort of laughter that causes the team to look over at her in confusion while Clint is in the middle of explaining why it’s important to (make sure the enemy is knocked the fuck out before walking away). She quickly covers her mouth in embarrassment as Clint abruptly ends the PowerPoint, clicking back the lights on as he sighs in disappointment.

“Come on Wanda I was almost done.” He whines, setting a hand on his hip as she bites her lip to keep a straight face. Parting from Bucky, you move to lean yourself against the table top and listen to Clink complain. She looks down then glances over at you while Clint fumbles to turn the screen off. 

Oh, shit did she hear me say that?

“Sorry.” Mutters Wanda as you quickly realize you’re the reason she started to laugh, resulting in the abrupt ending of Clint’s 30 minute presentation. 

Giving her a quick wink, you quickly stand, causing your friends to look over at you, “Alright, good work team, we’re the best huh,” You add sarcastically before looking directly at Clint, “also Clint fantastic work at being the most interesting 87 year old, I’m thoroughly impressed you even know what a PowerPoint is. Kudos to you, I’m out.”

Before anyone can stop you, you’re already at the door, “Y/N you can’t just leave we’re only taking a break. And I already know how to use a PowerPoint.”

“Yeah and you also know how to put someone to sleep even without an arrow.” You sass while the others start to get up as well. 

“What? Guys, come on.” Complains Clint as Bucky almost trips shuffling quickly to the door.

“Babe I’m with you wait up.”

——

“So you really did get smacked by a truck. Who would’ve thought.” Mumbles Bucky humorously as the two of you lay sprawled out on your shared bed, a heating pad on your side as Bucky’s head lays on the corner of your right hip. His hands absentmindedly holding your right hand to his chest while your other one presses the heating pad to your ribs.

You lazily stare up at the ceiling while he studies your face, “I guess it makes sense since I can’t remember anything after that. I didn’t even see the damn hunk of moving metal coming either, so stupid.”

“No.” He assures softly, “We all fuck up and miss things sometimes. It happens to everyone.”

Smiling you simply roll your eyes, “Bucky you’re adorable but I, who was a hawk at the time....to be real here, got bitch slapped by a truck.”

“I’ve been thrown off a car a couple times actually.” He confirms with a shrug, “But yeah, you’re way tougher then me.” He finally chuckles.

“I’m tougher then everyone.”

Bucky smiles proudly, “Fuck yeah you are.”

[the-drakeboys]

What I Deserve

Summary: In the heated passion of a fight, Sam pushes you as far away from himself as he can muster; but it isn’t until you finally take the hint and leave him that he’s forced to face the real reason behind it all.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader 

Word Count: 2,236

Warnings: ANGST. Just… yeah, just some angst. And also freezing cold rain. 

A/N: I am so, so, so SORRY for how long I’ve been gone. I miss you guys so much! I hope you’re all doing amazing and that this little oneshot can make up for some of the time I’ve been AWOL. Please send asks or messages and let me know how you’re doing! Link me to stories if anybody’s lookin’ for feedback, I’d love to get some reading in!!

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“What do you want from me?” he begged. “What do you want me to say? You want me to make sense of this to you, want me to put it together for you?” He stepped slowly forward, closing the distance between you. Your heart raced, your face flushed, anger filling every vein. “Why’s that my job, huh? Why’m I supposed to know, supposed to tell it to you?”

“Shut up, Sam,” you warned. Your hand out, stopping him at his chest. His feet still advancing. Yours retreating.

“And why can’t you figure it out for yourself? Why? Is it cuz you’re full of shit, is it cuz you’re not smart enough? Are you dumb or somethin’?”

“Shut your mouth,” you snapped, teeth clenching, body shaking.

“Are you blind, is there somethin’ wrong with you?” he pressed, his eyes never leaving yours, boring into you, breaking you, refusing to let up, refusing to back off, even as your back met the cool wooden front door of that musty motel room. “What is it, baby, what’s the matter with you? Why won’t you fucking get it?”

“I said, shut the fuck up!” With both hands pressing to his chest, you shoved at him, with all your strength, throwing him away from you, tearing the air between you apart.

He was breathless as he stumbled back, his eyes only leaving you long enough for him to catch himself at the wall with a hand to his side. Your eyes now the ones reaching into his soul and crushing it down until it struggled for air.

For once, he was speechless.

“Fine,” you spoke through the silent tears that’d slipped over your lips. “I get it now.”

You were out of the door before he could say a word; before enough time had passed that he could ever respond. But you didn’t miss it. That impossibly slight shift, the nearly invisible change in his eyes. For one split second, in a way only you could’ve seen, Sam was a boy again.

Lost, and left. Again.

This time, more his fault than ever before.

You raced from the building, your arms wrapped around your middle, your teeth clenched. The old security guard standing by the doors furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “You alright?” he asked in a thick, southern accent. You nodded your head, but said no words, disappearing through the doors as he watched you go, concern in his eyes.

You were in your car, the cold air wrapped around you and your breath fogging out in front of you. Your frigid fingers jammed into the AC buttons, turning the heat all the way up and fighting off the aching burn in your chest.

Your shitty windshield wipers barely swept the pouring rain away, they hardly worked at all. Your knuckles went white against the steering wheel as you drove through the parking lot, squinting through the rain and darkness.

You finally felt the wave crash inside of you... the tears rolling down your cheeks. Heavy, and endless, and hot against your skin.

And your feet slamming on the brakes.

He stood there. Right there, in front of you, in front of the car. His denim jacket soaked through, his hair sopping wet, his shoulders dropped and arms hung at his sides. You couldn’t see his face, but... you could feel his eyes on you.

You honked. “Move! Just move, you asshole!” you cried. “You want out so bad, you got it! Just go!”

Another honk. Another, and in the pouring rain, he didn’t move.

You stepped out of the car, standing at your door, one hand on the frame of it, “What the hell are you doing?!”

The headlights shone bright light over the features of his face. The anger was gone from him, and he just... looked at you. Like he wanted answers.

Like he wanted to know why.

Why.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” you broke, “You’re the one that wanted this.”

“I never wanted this.”

“Then what did you want, Sam?” Your fingers curled around the metal frame of your car door.

He couldn’t form a reply. His hand came up, shoving soaked hair out of his eyes. “Why are you here?”

The question was so empty, and so completely loaded, all at once. “What?” you asked. Confused, and enraged, and desperate.

“Why?”

You slammed the car door shut and stepped forward.

He backed up, just a step.

“What the hell kind of question is that? I’m here because you called me, I’m here because of you, and now—“

“—No.” He cut you off. “No... why... why are you here? Ever.”

You shook your head, out of words. His lips parted one more time.

“With me.”

Your heart sunk.

You wanted to punch him.

You wanted to scream at him, and hold him, and shake him by the shoulders until change fell from his pockets.

“Are you serious right now?”

His eyes fled from yours, finding the edges of the motel walls and doors and windows. Counting window panes.

“Just tell me why.”

You pushed then, pushed forward, inching ever closer to him, watching him look anywhere but at you, watching him refuse to face you. “I don’t know why,” you finally answered, fists shaking at your sides, “God help me, I have never known why. Why I put up with your stubbornness, with the way you disappear, with your guarded, untrusting bullshit like I haven’t earned every ounce of your trust by now with everything we’ve been through together. Who knows why I do this, why I let you have me when it’s convenient for you and push me away when it’s not. I don’t know why I’m in love with you, Sam! I have no fucking idea!”

Your voice had risen to a volume you’d never found before, and his head turned away from you, his eyes closing as he processed the words. Tried to summon the strength to just go.

“But—“ you started. He held his breath. “But I know I like it when you sing to me.” You reached up, pushing your own drenched bangs out of your eyes. “And I know that the world stops turning when we’re not together. And that no one makes me laugh like you do, no one has ever made me smile the way I do when I’m with y-you.” Your chin trembled now, and that bubble was back in your throat. You were in front of him, staring up at him, fighting for him to look you in the eyes. “I know that when you touch me, when you hold me, there’s nowhere else on this p-planet that I’d ever want to be.”

You reached out for him.

He backed up. “Don’t,” he whispered, his gaze glued to the ground. The rain still drizzled on you both, each of you shivering. Neither of you caring.

“Don’t what?” you demanded in disbelief, reaching out once again and watching as he nearly leapt back.

“Just don’t, I don’t deserve it!” he blurted. “I don’t deserve any of it!”

He stood there, those tattoos on his neck shining in the rain and the glow of your headlights, his hands shaking in the cold, or maybe with all of his emotion, you’d never really be sure.

“Sam—“

“No! I don’t get it! I don’t get it, I love you and I shouldn’t get to, I shouldn’t get to have you, I don’t know what I ever did, in my whole godforsaken life, to deserve you.” The way his chest rose and fell with fast, heavy breaths, the way he was struggling to put it all together. You were beside yourself. “The things I’ve done? The man I am? What does anyone want with a piece of shit ex-con with nothin’ to his name but a couple’a fancy coins?” 

The metallic pitter-patter of rain on the hood of your car filled the broken silence as his question echoed all around you, the confused, angry, and shattered look on his face begging you to have an answer, or to finally just go. To leave him like he deserved to be left. 

You shook your head. 

He spoke up, afraid of what you were going to say. “You’re too good for me, y/n. Always have been… always will be. And I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I never meant to make you feel like it was… like I was throwin’ you away. I just, uhh… I loved you and that’s the scariest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever fe--”

Your fingers grabbed him by the thick collar of his winter jean jacket and pulled him into you, not giving him any more time for any more words, colliding your lips with his as warm tears mingled with the raindrops on your cheeks. He was stiff, as if scared to fall into you again, but you didn’t let him go, moving your lips against his and desperately trying to help him understand just how much you really needed him. Wanting him to know that loving him was no mistake, that you were here to stay, that he would never have to fear watching you go. 

Sam’s heart finally began to beat again, albeit slowly, as he sunk into the kiss, his brows knit tightly together, his frozen hands going to cup your cheeks and pulling you back into him with the passion that’d been eating him up inside all this time. Your own heart raced as you felt him kiss you back, his chest finally pressing to yours and your fingers letting go of his collar just long enough to wrap your arms around his neck. His own left your cheeks and slid around your waist, holding you so tight you could barely breathe. You didn’t mind. 

You let your lips part, warm air still unfolding over each other’s faces as you breathed each other in. Your hands threading through the wet strands of his hair as you whispered, “It was never about deserving, Sam… You never have to question what you deserve. I’m in love with you… with every part of you… and you’re just going to have to deal with that.” 

He cleared his throat, lips pressing together, eyes darting away from you for just a moment as he pulled himself together. Through a shaking voice, and an emotional smile tugging over his trembling lips, Sam mumbled, “You’re outta your mind, y’know that…?” 

Your own tearful smile made his heart pound as you brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Maybe I am,” you mumbled. “Still doesn’t change a thing. But... no more, you got that? No more pushing me away, Morgan, or I’ll kill you.” 

His eyes met yours. He nodded his head, shivering against you. “Y-You got it.. I promise. No more. I swear, I won’t be such a jackass ever again.” 

You let out a shaky laugh. “Good.” 

He let his lips touch yours, closing his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, t-too,” you murmured back. “I love all of you, Sam.” 

And his lips were kissing yours again, this time fully, this time completely, this time holding nothing back. You gasped at the way it felt, to feel him just let go, to melt into you and hold you so close, and all you wanted was to never, ever feel him let go. Your bodies held together and lips refusing to part, heads tilting, deepening the kiss, your only source of oxygen coming from one another. It was everything. You’d been waiting for him all this time, and now--

“Hey, kids?” a voice broke through, waking you both up, forcing you to pull away and turn to see where it came from. “You two oughtta be gettin’ inside before you freeze to death, it’s damn near arctic out here.” 

You recognized the accent and thick mustache belonging to the security guard, and smiled as Sam laughed at the words. “Y-You’re probably right,” you sniffled, going to part from Sam only to feel him take your hand instead. The guard just chuckled at you both, smirking a little as he turned and headed back inside.

And as you went to park the car, with Sam at your side refusing to let go of your hand, his thumb softly rubbing over every one of your fingers as if he’d never gotten to hold them before, you were overwhelmed with the realization that, all this time, this was what he really needed. To know you meant it. 

And god, if only he really knew just how much you had always loved him, and always would. 

As you stood in the elevator, headed back up to your floor, you turned to him. “You don’t just deserve me, Sam…” His eyes flitted to yours, surprised at the words. “You deserve… everything. You deserve the world.” 

Sam was taken so far aback by the words that when the elevator doors slid open, he didn’t move a muscle. He was just looking at you. Wondering how he got so lucky. And closing the distance between you once again, capturing your lips with his, trying to pour how he felt about you into the kiss, his hand cupping the side of your neck. Thinking…

God… if only you really knew how much he loved you. If only you really knew that you were his world. 

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