#just in case you drop a Snack Crumb

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

OH IT THAT GUY

they stay all winter and i love it when they get Round~

Sorry it took so long to submit this, I've gotten super duper busy ^^;

But here's the bird I was wondering about! It was found up by mt st Helen's, in the gifford pinchot national forest in Washington.

Paxon:

Oh, Canada Jays (Perisoreus canadensis), family Corvidae, one of my favorites!

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[novelbear]

"only wanna be with you" - ways of subtlety showing love

prompt list by @novelbear

being able to lay on them comfortably no matter the position.

feeding them snacks from over your shoulder

playing. with. their. hair.

"text me when you get home."

unconsciously smiling whenever they smile

letting them have a bite of food you're preparing

^ then doing that thing where you're holding your hand under their chin just in case something falls/drips :(((

making a big deal out of any dish they make for you, eating every last bite.

breakfast in bed.

"you look gorgeous. stunning. jaw-dropping. breathtaking. do you see what i'm trying to get at?"

holding hands while walking

when others can tell you're in love (or really care abt one another) just from the way you stare at each other

helping fix/adjust their clothes a little before they leave

sending each other little selfies or pictures throughout the day when they're apart

being able to sit/work in a comfortable silence

napping together

taking their hand and slowly guiding them to the other side of the sidewalk (away from the road)

"have you eaten today?"

massages whenever they seem stressed

that little panicked reach for them (ready to catch them at all costs) if they trip ever so slightly

hugs from behind and gentle kisses on the shoulder >>>

"i've got this, you go rest."

wiping crumbs (or whatever's left of what they may be eating) from the corners of their mouth

random "i love you"s just for the reminder

[haveihitanerve]

Sup lol, tis been a while I fear

Had story idea, and it's just Bruce and Jason hanging out, but as soon as Jason leaves, Bruce just starts bawling because 'Holy shit, my son willingly hung out with me and made plans to hang out again' and he's just so emotional

Everyone is concerned that he's crying but Alfred and Tim and probably Cass, cuz they know how Bruce was during Jason's death (and Cass can just read him like a damn book)

K bye thx!

Heyyyyy!!!! Welcome back!!! This is a wonderful idea, not sure how I'll manage to write it, but i can try :) :

It was Saturday. Jason wasn't even supposed to be visiting, family dinner wasn't until Monday, but he dropped by with Dick, chatting on about something or other.

"Hey Old Man." Jason greeted, throwing a grin Bruce's way. Bruce almost dropped the tray he was holding, newly made shortbread cookies for Damian's art club meeting. The cookies were a little burnt, but Bruce thought they looked okay.

Jason, however, was under a different opinion. He wrinkled his nose, snatching one off the tray. "What on earth is this B?" Dick laughed along, grabbing one as well, and knocked it against the counter.

"You make your batter out of cement or something?" His eldest snickered as not even a crumb fell off.

"careful, you'll dent the counter." Jason warned, a shit eating grin on his face.

Bruce sighed, dumping the tray on the table. "They're for Damian. He's bringing over a few friends after school, and I thought I'd make some snacks. Cookies." He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Didn't go so well."

"You? In the kitchen? Not going well?" Dick teased, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Never woulda guessed." Bruce rolled his eyes.

Jason shrugged off his jacket, lifting the stack of old recipe notecards. "This is a fairly easy recipe, how did you-" he shook his head, rolling up his sleeves. "Alright old man, time for a baking lesson, come on, get the ingredients, we're gonna make demon brat some snacks."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as Dick lifted his bag, backing up into the hallway. "You guys have fun- I've gotta get going-"

"Coward!" Jason hollered after him as Dick vanished up the stairs. Privately, Bruce had to agree.

But it was... nice. Jason was... well he wasn't kind in the kitchen, but he treated Bruce and his inability to bake nicer than Dick would've at least. And it was... good.

They talked about everything and nothing, and Jason even let him ruffle his hair a few times, and even allowed a hug goodbye before he and Dick headed out again. (Plus the cookies came out perfectly)

Bruce managed to hold it together until they were out the door before he collapsed, tears streaming down his cheeks as sobs shook his body.

Steph was the one to find him, lured by the smell of cookies, Tim, Cass and Duke on her tail.

"Woah." Tim paused, head cocked. "Bruce you good?" He questioned, glancing at the others, who held up their hands in equal measure of confusion.

"Yes." Bruce sobbed back. "Jason- I- he-"

"I think what he's trying to say is that he and Jason hung out today." Duke translated slowly, raising an eyebrow. "I saw them baking earlier when I came upstairs."

"Oooohhhh." Steph, Cass, and Tim nodded in agreement. "That makes sense."

Duke looked between them. "How, exactly, does him sobbing make sense?" Steph laughed.

"Oh Duke, sweety, you sweet summer child, BB and J don't have the best relationship sugarplum, in case you didn't know. So Jason willingly hanging out with him?" She mimed an explosion. "Mind-blowing."

Tim grimaced. "I wouldn't say it like that, but basically. He was a mess when Jason died. And now he like, basically gets a redo of hanging with his son."

They all stared down at Bruce sobbing on the floor.

"So..." Duke cleared his throat. "Cookies and down to the Cave to watch a movie?" The others nodded their agreement.

"Yep. Bye Bruce, have... fun."

[yeonzzzn]

🍓strawberries: yeonjun x reader | childhood friends to lovers | warnings: none, just cute ♡

"they say a double strawberry will bring love. spliting it in half and sharing it with another person, you will fall in love with each other..."

[3.0k words] ☆ [pls do not repost]

A soft tapping on your bedroom window startled you awake. 

You turned quickly to your left, seeing a face looking back at you. The face of your best friend. 

“Yeonjun!” you snapped holding your hands over your chest, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

The corners of his mouth tilted up, his finger pointing upwards, signaling you to open the window. 

You sighed as you walked over and lifted the glass up, “don’t you know what time it is?” you asked. 

Yeonjun checks the watch on his wrist, “it’s only 9:30pm.” 

You dropped your face in the palm of your hand, “only 9:30pm he says.” 

“Yeah! Obviously!” Yeonjun places his foot over the plastic panel to the window, “move over I’m coming in.”

You step aside, watching your childhood best friend make his way into your room. 

Yeonjun sets a plastic convenience store bag on your desk where you were once asleep. 

“Oh shit! I forgot we had math homework!” Yeonjun picks up your notebook, “can I copy this later?” 

You snatch the notebook from his hands, “you know you can do it yourself, right? And anyways, why are you here so late? It’s a school night you know.” 

He points to the plastic bag, “I got us snacks.” 

“Yeah. I can see that.” 

You decided to accept his snacks, knowing full well if you didn’t he would pout until you did or leave pouting and then you’d definitely never hear the end of it. You both sat on the floor leading against your bed to keep the crumb from getting on the bedsheets. 

Yeonjun went on telling a story about his experience at school earlier that day while you sipped on the cola he brought you, and munched on some chips. 

You and Yeonjun have been friends since birth, your mothers are both best friends, which automatically made the two of you best friends. 

“Like Y/N it was crazy! This fight was different from any other school fights I’ve seen!”

You nodded your head, “I can tell by your story. I don’t know why you get yourself caught up in these fights, remember we are seniors in high school, if you want to get into a good college, you can’t get caught up in that.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “It’s not like I was in the fight, I just stopped it.” 

“That does not help your case.” 

He shrugs, digging into the bag for another snack.

“Ah! I forgot I got strawberries!” 

You glance over, seeing the rubbing strawberries in his hands. Your eyes lit up, “why did you not start with the strawberries first! I love them!” 

Yeonjun smiled brightly, “that’s why they had to be last! I know you love them.” 

The smell of the fresh strawberries filled your room, your mouth watering, ready to have a taste. 

One by one you both took them, the container soon almost empty. 

Yeonjun’s attention was soon taken by the last strawberry, he held it up in his hand, “it’s a double strawberry.” 

You reached across trying to take it from him, but he pulled away, “I call dibs!” you tried to reach again but he was quick to pull it further away, “Yeonjun!” 

“Do you not know the lord to double strawberries?!” he frantically let out, still shoving you away from the red goodness. 

“What is so special about a double strawberry?? Is it more juicy? I want it if so!” 

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, “No! Silly! Sit back and I will tell you.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you let him win, ready for him to explain. 

“Okay, they say if you share a double strawberry, the ones who share it fall in love with each other.” Yeonjun smiled up at you, only for his smile to fade once he saw the look on your face.

“That’s the lore?” you couldn’t hide that your were disappointed. You hoped for the lord to be something more amazing.

Yeonjun flicked his finger to your forehead, “yes that IS the lore! Do you not find that interesting?!”

You shook your head, “I think it is silly to put trust in a fruit to make two people fall in love.” 

Yeonjun shrugged, “I think it’s fascinating.”

“You’ve always been the more romantic one out of the two of us.” 

He nodded, staring down at the strawberries. You felt bad after not believing his story, Yeonjun always loved theories and it made you feel guilty for shutting it down so quickly. 

“I’m sorry for being mean,” you apologized.

He smiled brightly at you, “share the strawberry with me.”

You laughed, thinking he was joking. “What? You’re serious?”

He nodded again, “yeah why not?” he wiggled his brows, “maybe we’ll figure out if it’s true or not.” 

You shoved his shoulder, “stop playing.”

He locked eyes with you, your heart rate increasing seeing how very serious he was being, “I’m not playing, Y/N.” 

All you could do was nod in agreement. What’s the worst that could happen?

Yeonjun split the strawberry and handed you your half. 

This was the first time you felt nervous around him. Yeonjun knows your deepest, darkest secrets. Has seen you at your worst, and even your highest. This man embarrassed you in front of the whole student body in the fourth grade when he found out which boy you had a crush on and announced it to everyone. Never once had he ever made you feel the things you were right now. 

But you ate the strawberry anyways, watching as he ate his half. 

“You’re right,” his voice startled you, “the double strawberry was really juicy.” 

Yeonjun looked over at you making eye contact. 

Every inch of you was screaming to look away, to nod your head in agreement that the strawberry was indeed juicy and really good. 

But you couldn’t break away, you sat frozen beside him. 

Yeonjun inched closer to you, shifting his body facing you, his arm resting on your bed while the other hand reached for you.  

You let him. You let him place his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You could smell his cologne, feel his breath against your skin. 

Yeonjun slowly connected his lips to yours. Your body went hot from his touch. Everything was spinning, but felt as if the world had stopped. 

Once he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. 

“It’s late,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” 

Yeonjun placed a final kiss on your forehead, and you watched him climb out your window and disappear down the street. 

As if the lore of the strawberry were true, you fell in love with him. 

Everything with Yeonjun felt so right. Everything made sense with him. 

And he felt the same with you. 

The two of you spent the rest of the school year together. 

You became the “it” couple of the school. And deep down, you loved it. 

Every holiday with him was better than before. Every date was more and more special. Every kiss took your breath away every single time. The first I love you melted you. But your heart raced faster each time you heard those words come from his mouth. 

You loved him with every inch of your being. You felt as if nothing could tear you two apart. 

Until the day came where it did tear you apart. 

The two of you sat on the floor of his bedroom. Boxes filled every corner of the room, the convenient store bag of snacks, untouched. A container of strawberries empty, with no double strawberry. 

“Yeonjun, we can find a way!” you cried. 

He tucked his lip between his teeth, “we can’t and you know that.” 

Today was supposed to be a celebration of Yeonjun being accepted as a trainee, but you didn’t think the celebration would end with the both of you ending. 

High School graduation was in a week, you both had so many plans for the summer. He was supposed to follow you to your dream college that was three hours away if he wasn’t accepted as his dream company to be a trainee, and even if he was accepted, you both wanted to make it work. 

Until tonight. 

You knew with Yeonjun’s schedule he wouldn’t have time to visit you often or text or even call often. You did not think it was going to be enough to break the two of you apart. 

You kept looking at the empty container of strawberries, wishing a double one would magically appear there. Maybe the lore wasn’t true after all. 

Graduation came and gone. Days passed. Months flew by and then a years. 

You graduated top of your class from college and landed your dream job in Seoul and moved into a beautiful apartment. 

Your parents threw you a party in congratulations. All your friends from high school came and even the one from college. 

You sat on the couch beside your parents, listening to them talk about how their lives have been since you’ve been gone. You’ve talked to them on the phone every single day, and they’ve visited, but there was still a lot to be caught up on. 

“Oh honey! Mrs. Choi told me to give you her congrats.” your mother said, giving you a warm smile. 

You nodded and smiled back, “tell her I said thank you.” 

She nodded back, but her warm smile slowly faded, “Have you spoken to Yeonjun?” 

You froze at his name, slowly looking away from your mom.

She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving a soft squeeze. 

You excused yourself, rushing away to the kitchen. 

Yeonjun never left your mind. For years since the last day you saw him, he was all you ever thought about. Your heart ached for him. It wanted him and only him. 

You noticed a fruit plate on the table, with a singular strawberry sitting on it. You picked it up, and threw it away. 

A few months have gone by, you settled into your apartment and made a name for yourself at your job. Life was getting easier and Yeonjun didn’t cross your mind much anymore. But maybe it was due to being busy. You never knew the answer to that, and didn’t want to find that answer. 

The first snow of winter touched the ground. You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, forgetting your gloves at home was the worst mistake of the day. 

You had a late day at work, causing you to walk home at 9pm. With the sun down, the winter breeze was even cooler. 

You kept your head low as you continued your walk back home, counting down the steps until you walked into your apartment. 

A few pairs of laughter in the distance caught your attention, you didn’t want to run into them after all. 

You glance up, seeing five men standing on the sidewalk, laughing at each other. 

It made you smile, it reminded you of the times you and your friends would laugh. 

But your smile faded, when you recognized one smile. 

You stopped walking after fully realizing you recognized the laugh too. 

Your heart raced seeing how happy he looked. How different he looked. You could tell he carried himself different. His smile was bigger. He was much taller. His hair was dyed orange. He looked the happiest you’ve ever seen him. 

You knew you needed to walk away, to turn around and walk a different way home. You couldn’t ruin this for him. 

But it was too late. 

He made eye contact with you. His smile faded. 

You wanted to move, but your feet were planted to the ground. 

He said something to the four friends of his and made his way to you. 

You finally were able to look away, hoping his friends would pull him back, but saw they were no longer on site. 

Finally, you were able to turn around, facing away from him.

“Y/N! Wait please!”

You couldn’t take another step before his hands turned you around and pulled you to him, his arms wrapping around you.

You fought yourself to keep from crying, kept yourself stiff so you wouldn’t. 

Yeonjun realized it too, slowly pulling himself from you. 

“Why are you out here alone?” he asked, pulling a strain of hair behind your ear, “you’re freezing! Are you heading home? I’ll drive you.” 

You shook your head, “no I’m fine.” 

His face fell, watching his foot dig into the snow. 

“Please let me take you home, I don’t feel okay knowing you’re walking alone.”

You took a deep breath in, “you haven’t changed much have you?”

A small smile grew on his face, “obviously not.” 

You agreed to let him drive you home. 

He stopped at the convenient store down the street from your apartment, “why are we stopping?” you asked. 

He gave you a wink, “for snacks of course, just like old times.” 

Your heart sank, but you slowly nodded anyway. You tried to push the last memory of sharing snacks with him out of your head. You didn’t want to remember it. 

Yeonjun dropped the plastic bag on your kitchen table, sliding his jacket off, dropping it in the chair. 

“Want any coffee? To help warm up?” you asked. 

Yeonjun nodded, “yes, thank you.  

He rustled through the plastic bag, bringing out a few packages of ramen, two bags of chips, and a container of strawberries. 

You handed him his coffee, glancing down at the container. 

“You really got everything we used to eat as children, didn’t you.” you soft scoffed. 

Yeonjun tore open one of the bags of chips, “hey I’m a simple guy.” 

You rolled your eyes, sitting down at the table across from him, “you really didn’t change.” 

He glanced over at you, “why would I?” 

You shrugged, tapping your fingers on your coffee mug, “you’re an idol now.” 

“Y/N, just because I’m famous doesn’t mean I’m not the same Yeonjun you know.” 

You looked away from him, seeing his face hurt. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. “I am an idiot, I get it. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you all these years. You’re the main reason I was able to get as far as I did.” 

You looked into his eyes trying to read him. Yeonjun never was able to hide how he felt from you, even as kids you always knew what he was feeling. And right now wasn’t any different. You could see his emotions all over his face. 

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he chuckled, “but I couldn’t put you through that life.”

You shocked your head, anger filled you, “you don’t know how it would have worked! I was ready for that life. Prepared myself for it. I was ready to support you through thick and thin.”

Yeonjun nodded, “I know, trust me I do.” 

You both sat in silence, until you decided fighting with him wasn’t what you wanted right now. You finally reunited with him, you don’t know when you’d be able to see him again. 

“Want to eat the strawberries and talk how we used to?” 

Yeonjun smiled, opening the container. 

You listened as he talked about his trainee days, about his group members, the company he’s under and even his seniors who he looks up to and all the friends he was able to make. He looked so happy talking about it all. You couldn’t help but wonder how different it would have been for him if you were still in the picture during that time. 

“I’m very happy for you, Yeonjun,” you picked up a strawberry, “I guess it worked out in the end.”

You didn’t mean for those words to be that sharp, but you could tell they cut him like a knife. 

“I meant it when I said I never stopped thinking about you. I talked about you all the time. I still do.” 

“I think about you too,” you decided to admit, “I never stopped.” 

He cleared his throat, “get me caught up on you.” 

You caught him up on your everyday life and how you ended up in Seoul. 

“I am very glad you’re doing well for yourself, Y/N. I was worried about you.” 

You raised a brow at him, “I’m an adult Yeonjun, I can’t take care of myself now.” you teased him. 

He threw his hands up in defense, “hey listen, I trust you okay.” 

You both laughed. You missed this. You missed him. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, as if he could read your mind. 

You sighed, “I’ve missed you too.” 

Yeonjun chuckled, reaching for the last strawberry in the box, his eyes frozen on it. 

You took a sip from your coffee, watching him in confusion, “what is wrong with it?”

He smiled, “have you ever heard the lore of sharing a double strawberry with someone?” 

You set your cup down, seeing the double strawberry in his hand. 

“Yeonjun…”

“They say if you split the strawberry in half with someone, the two will fall in love.” 

He glances up at you, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yeonjun…I—“

“I’m still in love with you, Y/N,” he interrupted. “I loved you way before we even shared the first double strawberry. I think I’ve loved you for as long as I could remember, and I never stopped. Sharing the strawberry with you that night all those years ago only gave me the confidence to finally show it.” 

Tears formed in your eyes. The happiness you felt in that moment was written all over your face. 

“I don’t remember when I realized it, but it’s the same with me”, you reached across the table grabbing him by his shirt collar, “I’ve always loved you Choi Yeonjun, and it took that stupid double strawberry to finally realize it.” 

The last thing you saw was his smile and his face inching closer to yours. Your world spun at the touch of his lips. Your heart raced feeling his cold hand brush against your neck. 

He was here with you. And that’s all that mattered in that moment. 

Yeonjun pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, “so, we are sharing this strawberry?” 

“As long as you promise to not leave my side again.” 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m dumb enough to walk away from you again.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 13 - Supernatural

@wolfstarmicrofic July 13, word count 990

The Marauders had been called to yet another haunted mansion. The owner had begged for the gang to come and help remove the spectre from the building. 

James drove the rickety old van, Lily sat beside him, her red hair catching the summer sun as it shone through the windscreen. Peter sat in the back pouring over the books he’d collected on ghost-hunting and Remus and Padfoot sat at the very back of the van sharing a box of their favourite snacks. 

Padfoot stuck his nose into the empty box and snuffled around it just in case they’d missed a crumb. Remus patted the top of his head. 

“Good, boy. Are we nearly there?” He called to James in front. “Pads and I are out of snacks,” 

“I don’t know how you two don’t explode with the amount of food you eat,” Lily scoffed at them. Remus shrugged, he’d been asked this so many times over the years, and he still didn’t have an answer. Padfoot just woofed happily at her and wagged his tail, hitting Remus in the mouth and leaving him with multiple dog hairs on his tongue. 

They pulled up outside the castle and the Marauders' van gave a grateful cough before the engine shut off. It had been a long, steep drive. The owner, a little old man with a long white beard tucked into his belt, welcomed them as they walked up to the main entrance. 

“Ah, the Marauders, welcome, welcome. Please, come in,” He said, waving them forwards. The castle looked even bigger from the inside. Remus had to crane his neck just to see the ceiling.

“Wow, bud, this is amazing,” He said to Padfoot. 

“So, Mr Dumbledore, how can we help?” James asked, puffing out his chest.

“Well,” The old man started. “I’ve been having a bit of trouble with things moving about the castle. I’ve had socks being thrown at me as I was walking down the stairs. My pears have flown off my plate and been juggled midair. And many other odd things happening all over the castle.”

“Don’t worry,” Lily told him, resting a hand on his. “We’ll take care of everything,” They split up to explore the castle. 

Remus picked the short straw, and while James, Lily and Peter all headed upstairs, he and Padfoot had to go down into the dungeons to check it out. 

It was dark and damp down there. Padfoot whimpered quietly the further down they went. Remus stopped beside a painting of a bowl of fruit and sniffed. 

“Mmmmm smells like chocolate.” He sniffed some more, touching the frame. It shifted. He swung it open, revealing a kitchen behind it. “Pads bud, I think we hit the jackpot!” He clambered into the hole and stood back so Padfoot could jump in. 

The kitchen was huge, with four long tables set out in a row. They moved further in and Remus opened the huge walk-in fridge door. He gasped at the abundance of food and immediately started picking at the food, making sure to give Padfoot a good share as well. He was chewing on a chunk of roast chicken when the door suddenly shut on them. “Cripes, Pads, what do we do now?” He asked his faithful friend. Padfoot sat back on his haunches, lifted his head and howled. Remus started banging on the door and shouting for help. 

It took a long time for the others to find them.

“Shouldn’t have been stuffing your faces,” Peter teased them when they ran out of the fridge once the door opened. 

“Hahaha.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Have you found anything?” Lily nodded.

“Yeah, we think it’s a poltergeist,” She told him.

“We just need it to reveal itself, and then we can deal with it,” James added. 

“You can’t catch old Peeves, he’s far too clever for the likes of you!” A cackling voice echoed around the room.

“Show yourself!” James yelled. Food began to hurtle itself out of the open fridge at them. They quickly took cover as sandwiches, treacle tarts and a myriad of other food crashed into them. 

“We need to trap him,” Peter yelled over the sounds of trays being dropped. 

“How?!” Remus asked. But before Peter could answer, Padfoot raced across the kitchen and jumped at the door, slamming it shut. 

“Hey! That’s cheating! Let Peeves out now!” The Poltergeist cried angrily from inside the fridge. 

“Good job, Pads,” Remus grinned, opening his arms, so the giant black dog could jump into them for a hug. “You’re the best boy,” Padfoot responded by licking a very wet tongue all the way up Remus’s face. “Eww, I love you too,” He laughed patting Padfoot’s huge head. 

“Well done, well done!” Mr Dumbledore appeared from nowhere clapping his hands. He wandered over to the fridge and opened the door. A little man dressed in bright orange clothes and pointed blue shoes hovered in the middle of the area. 

“Dumble wumble, Peeves isn’t happy!” He sulked. 

“There, there Peeves,” Dumbledore cooed. “If you promise to behave yourself, I’ll let you out,” The poltergeist sighed dramatically. 

“Fine,” He spun upside down and zoomed out of the room. Dumbledore turned to them. 

“Thank you, Marauders. He’s been pushing his luck for ages. I may need your services in the future if he starts getting out of hand again.” He handed James a pouch full of gold coins and waved as he left the kitchen. “You can see yourselves out when you’re ready. Thank you again.” He called. The Marauders looked at each other flummoxed by the odd behaviour, but quickly left the strange castle and its even stranger inhabitants. 

James got behind the wheel to start the long journey home while the others relaxed. Remus curled up on the floor of the van, pulling Padfoot close, snuggling into his soft fur as they both fell asleep, their stomachs full and tired from their adventure. 

[dantalionarchive]

Homegirl

yuji itadori x fem!reader wc: 1693 tags: weed sex/yuji calls you baby not beta read!

yuji is the type of guy who grows feelings for his girl best friend. i wanna kiss him so bad...

your toes curled in your fluffy socks as you sat beside yuji on his living room couch. well, his older brothers living room couch. you had been so busy with college you didnt have time for your best friend; until now. it was finally spring break, and you were finally back in your hometown. of course you were staying with your parents for the week since they wanted to see you, but they werent the only people you came back for.

when you told yuji you were back, he blew up your phone with excited texts and begged to facetime you. of course you agreed. you talked with him all night and woke up laughing together when you realized you fell asleep on the phone with one another. 

no one was closer to you than your homeboy yuji itadori. 

when you were free that evening, he invited you over to smoke. of course you said yes. you told your parents you were going to see yuji and jumped on your old bike, riding down to his place with a bag of weed in your back pocket, and a lighter in the front of your denim shorts. yuji lived in the big house two blocks ahead of yours. it was impossible to miss and the two of you always loved doing everything together. its funny how things worked out that way. 

you jumped off your bike, throwing it in his front yard as you ran up to his front door. he beat you to it. with a big shimmering smile, he wrapped you up in a tight hug and pulled you into his house. the sun was starting to set, and the smoke session was about to begin.

choso was nice enough to let you and yuji smoke in the house instead of sending you to the porch. as long as you didnt burn anything down. “its been so long since we smoked together, im sorry i only have cruddy weed.” you apologized while eyeing your crumbs of cheap weed nobara had slid you. 

an exchange for you being so kind as to drop her off at a sneaky link. the room was lit via the tv and a small table lamp on the side of you, making your contribution even more pathetic. “you know i would never ask you to bring weed. and this is all my brothers anyway.” he snickered as he emptied the shredded tobacco from the cigar wrap into a little, black grocery bag. “sukunas? he wont be mad?” you asked with worry as yuji rolled his eyes. “he stole my favorite red nike dunks. so im stealing some of his weed.” he frowned as he got into the much larger bag of weed to break up a few nugs. 

“be the bigger person.” you joked and gently nudged his thigh with your foot before your eyes returned to the tv. the two of you had put on an anime to watch, but neither of you were actually paying attention to it. just some background noise for the smoke sesh. with the blunt now rolled (and pearled) yuji scrambled for a lighter among the snacks and bottles of water. “here,” you pulled one out of the front pocket of your jean shorts. “dont lose it.” you smiled at him as he took your lighter. your fingers brushed his but you thought nothing of it.

you were yujis homegirl. and of course he was your homeboy. people always assumed you were dating, but that wasnt the case. you did have some unsavory thoughts about yuji from time to time, but he was your friend before he was an object of your desire. the blunt was passed to you and the ceramic ashtray was moved to the center for the both of you to share. 

the weed was superb. sukuna really was the greatest plug. making yuji the greatest plug via association. your eyes were starting to feel heavy as you leaned against yuji with the brown blunt becoming shorter and shorter. “should we roll another? use the weed i brought.” you offered him the blunt and he hummed in deep thought. you could see the shine of his thin gold chain dangling around his neck from the tvs glow. it pulled you in closer until yuji was holding the blunt, looking down at your hand resting on his thigh. 

“you okay?” yuji asked lazily as his body sank back against the velvet couch. you nodded, your hand still as you gave his muscled leg a small squeeze. his breath hitched softly as you moved in even closer. “whatre you doin?” he mumbled as the blunt hung from his lips. his eyes on you. “nothin.” you whispered as you eyed his crotch through his black basketball shorts. you were sitting on your knees now, your heart pounding in your chest until yuji grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you away. his cheeks were red and he was frowning.

“you dont have to do that.” yuji didnt sound angry with you. just anxious. “i want to though…” you trailed off with a weak frown, watching yuji put the blunt in the ashtray. “lets do somethin for you too.” the offer was quiet, the tv casting you both in a colorful glow as your pink haired best friend inched closer on the couch.

your lips met. soft and welcoming. you knew in that moment that this was something you both wanted. your tongues met with each messy kiss, drool coating your chin as yuji made his way on top of you. your back was digging into the arm of the couch now. your heart racing as your arms wrapped around him with a whine leaving your lips as he pulled away and moved lower.  

“wheres choso?” you panted as yuji sucked and kissed along your jugular, lightly and cautiously. “sleep upstairs.” you pulled at the back of his shirt, stifling another whine. “sukuna?” you worried about him the most. “his babymama house.”yuji mumbled against your skin as his warm hands slipped under your shirt, pulling at the front clasp of your bra as he sucked and licked at your throat.

you wanted him to leave marks. more soft sounds passed your lips as yuji pulled away and bunched your shirt over your chest. your nipples hardened once they were exposed to the cool air of the room. he looked down at you, contemplating his next move as you pulled your hands away and tugged at his shirt. he took your silent request and pulled the article of clothing over his head and haphazardly dropped it to the floor. his chest was exposed, and he dove in for another round of kisses as his large palms massaged your breasts. you were like dough in his hands. moldable and pliable for him to enjoy. it was like one of many fantasies you silently wished would come true.

his hands moved to your jean shorts, pulling at the button and zipper as he kept your moaning lips distracted with his. the denim was being yanked down your hips with your panties bunched in the fabric. they dangled off of your ankle as his hands moved between your thighs. his thumb rubbed at your clit. his fingers pumped in and out of you carefully crooking upwards. swallowing your yelps and cries as you trembled beneath him with nothing short of delight. when the sound of shuffling clothing returned you felt the pooling heat in your stomach leave a dull burn as his fingers pulled away. 

you needed yuji inside of you. his cock rested against the meaty petals of your pussy, the tip of his cock meekly greeted your clit with a few light, affectionate rubs. “can i?” he whispered, his voice airy. needy. just as needy as you. you gave him a lazy nod for a response, your body tensing when his strong arms lifted your hips into his lap, leaving you bent as he sank his thick, throbbing cock into your soaked cunt. 

his hips rocked with yours, his gold chain swinging before your eyes. the anime was drowned out by wet smacks of skin and soft moans. each drag of his cock left you light headed. you clenched tighter around him, mumbling soft sobs and ‘oh fucks’ with each piston. the mushroomy tip of his cock nudged perfectly against that spongy wall inside you. “your body was made for my cock. feel it baby?” he cooed, leaning in to meet your lips with his own. his rhythm steady and quick as he fucked you against the leather couch, letting you drag your nails against the bare skin of his back. it felt so good. better than you could have imagined. maybe it was the weed. maybe it was the feelings you held onto. maybe it was in yujis dna to have excellent dick. whatever the answer was, it was leading you to an orgasm; fast. 

your toes curled in your fuzzy socks, your breathing quickened as yujis thrusts became sloppy and rough. a thin trail of spit connected the two of you as he pulled away, pushing your thighs apart to get even deeper inside of you. “s-so deep yuji- mm’cummin…” you whimpered pathetically as your pussy fluttered around him. sucking him deeper and deeper as he nudged against your cervix. the sudden feeling left the coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight as yuji nodded. “you can come. cum with me? cum with me please? please baby?” he huffed and panted as his cock throbbed inside of you.

you nodded, your body quaking as your orgasm hit you like a punch. your body writhed as yuji hunched over you with a deep growl.

his cock pulsed, the feeling of a gooey warmth left your thighs trembling. the throbbing sensation intensified as your body grew sensitive from overstimulation. you could feel the pearl colored cum starting to leak out of you along with your own juices. but thats not what you were worried about.

it was the post nut clarity telling you that you just fucked your homeboy on his older brothers couch. 

[ridreamir]

Short Drayton Imagines (Set 1)

Warning! These are Post-DLC Imagines! I won't really be spoiling much plot-wise but in case I say anything spoiler-y I'm going to include a page break-- read with your own caution! There's a hint of Kieran Jealousy in here haha

You aren't really close friends, per se, it's just that he's taken to inserting himself into your life at random. If you ever find yourself in his neck of the woods, it's more than likely that he'll pop out from nowhere and try to distract you from getting your work done. You are colleagues at the very least, being the champ of his little organization and all.

"Hey sport!" or some variation is the only warning you'll get that you're about to be dragged into some whirlwind and might as well either run as fast as you can or resign yourself to being at the mercy of Drayton's whims for the day.

Yes, he is always scheming. People might look down on him for being laid back, but he's still got the energy to plot things it seems.

...It's not that he's philosophically against bad grades or anything, but you're a little too high-strung about being perfect and performing all the time. At least, that's what he thinks. You've been the best at everything for so long that he's not sure if it's just your nature or an obligation that everyone else has set upon you. You need to learn to relax! Who better to teach you than the Drayster himself? It's not like he takes anything seriously anymore. (lol) (Maybe he's projecting, a little. He knows a thing or two about expectations and pressure being put on a person to achieve excellence, even if that's not what they really want.)

Plenty of his lackeys have obviously figured out that he's got some sort of thing going on, what with how easily he drops what he's doing just to go pester you. Even if that means abandoning his snacks and actually cleaning himself off to look somewhat presentable. The fact that he cares to wipe a couple crumbs off his chest is enough to turn heads. Drayton isn't the type to mind what anyone thinks.

You're lucky the dorms require a digital key to get in, and that he can't be bothered to break in (though he probably could pull some strings if he really wanted). He's followed you back to the dorms after a long day and ignored the hall monitors barking at him to get back to his own just to play around and snoop through your stuff. It's... kind of like finding a really lazy Beartic rummaging through your garbage.

He doesn't really need a comfortable bed, to be honest. He's happy to drag you into a foot of snow and burrow there. He can settle anywhere secluded, as fun as it is to watch people from afar. He needs peace and quiet to sleep.

Artificial glaciers or not, the cold is still biting, but he's impervious to it somehow. He'll have his skin exposed for hours and have nothing more than a slight flush to his pale skin. You, on the other hand, have little choice in the matter. He knows you've dealt with worse, being a seasoned adventurer and all, so he doesn't really feel all too bad about hogging all your warmth to himself. ...If you were actually cold, he wouldn't be so cruel. You're dressed appropriately, and you have your Pokemon if you absolutely need. You can handle a few moments out in the snow. Your little friend is a teeny bit upset with him. So's his sister, so there's nothing new there. But he has to admit that he's a little smug about how 'close' he can get to you and loves watching the pipsqueak try to stomp down his temper. It goes something like "Hey there buddy~." And an arm slung lazily slung around your shoulder. Not that you have any idea that Kieran is both behind you and seething at Drayton. It's just too easy to get to him, but think of it as payback. He's forgiven of course, but he still put you all through some rough stuff. You especially. Drayton still loves to mess with Carmine, sure, but she's also been on his case about how he's been latching onto you recently. Maybe it's because she knows how jealous her brother gets, but he thinks she just wants you all to herself. Too bad for her, he got to you first. Well, not exactly, she met you before him, but she had her chance! Now you're the bestest of buds and she can't do nothin about it. You've got lots of friends back at 'home'. He knows he can't always capitalize on your time, and he backs off when he sees you actually needing space, but they're not here to stop him. You're his bud, all his.

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. seijoh hcs if they were on the road together!

genre. crack

ft. tooru oikawa, issei matsukawa, takahiro hanamaki, hajime iwaizumi

gender neutral! reader. ( not rlly mentioned tho )

     ➫    𝓞𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔   𝓣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨   ୨୧   ˎˊ˗

⌗ alright alright, he WANTED to drive.. but the vote went towards iwaizumi, and to double check they did rock paper scissors ( iwaizumi still won )

⌗ tooru was petty for the first thirty minutes, i mean it’s his car???

⌗ but eventually thought it was for the better! let him be on light duty while his subjects- i mean ahem, teammates, manage the car situation.

⌗ he does however, have control of the radio and has already plugged in his phone ( there goes one outlet ) to play spotify!

⌗ everyone complained at first but tooru’s music taste ate and left not crumbs because everyone was singing. even kyotani was nodding his head to some songs.

⌗ position wise, tooru is well, obviously in the passenger’s seat. what’s annoying is how far back he has his seat😐 and watari is like right behind him BUT SAYS NOTHING.

⌗ if the road trip is long, tooru however, will step in as a backup driver because poor poor iwa-chan gets so sleepy at night from having a NORMAL sleep schedule!! ( tooru doesn’t, this is why he has this job.. )

    ➫ 𝓜𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔   𝓘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗜   ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ dude him and makki are ALL the way in the back in the makeshift seats in the trunk because they are menaces and were banned from being close to the front.

⌗ jokes on them, they can pull pranks from the back — like yk that thing where they pull the string and the headrest drops, yeah. he pulled it and makki pulled the other NUMEROUS TIMES. free the second and first years.

⌗ brought all the snacks and is gatekeeping them with whoever is closest to him ( makki, kyoken and kindaichi )

⌗ ROAD GAMES!! and songs or whatever ft his besti ( and totally not boyfriend ), makki

⌗ brings almost half his bedding with him to be comfortable where he’s sitting ( so real of you mattsun ) and if you’re not oikawa, he MIGHT share lol

⌗ honestly sleeps for a good bit of the ride, just feel like he would lol especially with the pillows and blankets.

⌗ reverse, some of the boys fall asleep on him bc he’s the tallest so there’s more of him to go around LMAO he’s just stuck between makki and kindaichi

    ➫ 𝓗𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗜   𝓣𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢   ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ matsukawa’s second half✌️🤟🤙🤝🤞

⌗ yeah he’s in the very back too causing chaos yk the usual ( annoying the shit out of hajime and tooru because they are the real parents uncles of the team )

⌗ he brought a load of pastries tbh but the minute they ran out he got a little delulu and thought yahaba ( who sat in front of him ) was a cream puff, and was ready to pounce LMAO

⌗ mattsun held him back from doing so, thankfully — seijoh needed its back up setter, pinch and future captain in case iwaizumi finally lost his patience and put oikawa out of commission.. or because oikawa has to graduate and go be a girlboss in the big leagues!!! so hot of him- ahem anyway

⌗ dude him, kawa and mattsun are that one meme where they’re like “DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT, EVERYBODY, FEELING WARM AND BRIGHT” in the worst tone ever while iwa is just questioning his life choices

⌗ “are we there yet” every few minutes — iwaizumi literally pulls over at some point to get in the back seat and tape his mouth😭 bro was absolutely done oml

⌗ he brought a stack of cards only for them to be pokemon cards LIKE HOW DO YOU GET THAT WRONG- ( they played, anyway )

➫ 𝓘𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝓗𝗔𝗝𝗜𝗠𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ the driver ( mother ) lol

⌗ free iwaizumi he is tired and has a severe headache from these buffoons and he swears blood will be shed if SOMEBODY dares to ask AGAIN for another rest stop or if they’re there yet.

⌗ he’s got a stash of yellow red bull in a compartment for himself in case he needs to take the night shift on the road — tooru insists that no one drives but him ( unless iwa finally throws in the towel and he drives )

⌗ in terms of driving tho he’s pretty smooth, goes at a reasonable speed and is fairly calm in terms of IDIOTS on the road — but he has his moments occasionally where he gets annoyed

⌗ probably has the super specific thing he wants to see that convinced him to go on this road trip and see it through to the end ( it’s something godzilla related i bet )

⌗ usually likes to snack while he’s driving, helps keep him awake — but since he doesn’t wanna get the steering wheel dirty, he has cherries his mom pack him LMAO ( “share with the others!!” and he gatekeeps )

⌗ packed a volleyball in the trunk and portable beach volleyball set up

notes. i was gonna do all the boys originally but it became time consuming and well.. i ran out of ideas LMAO hope it was still decent<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[kamidukki]

Hi, please feel free to ignore this if you aren’t caught up with the latest installments of the Akuneko main story. Enjoy things at your own pace. 💜

**Semi-Spoilerish** If you’re all caught up there is a certain character I’m curious about that shows up but can’t find ANYTHING on them. I don’t even know this man’s name, just that he is an entire snack. 🥵 It’s the elf(?) looking guy with long white hair. I do believe he showed up during the chapter that focused on Lato if I recall but he seems to play a bigger part in this latest chapter of the story. If you have any crumbs of information on him I would love you forever and name my first born after you. 😂

Hello there!

Just to make sure, this is the guy you're talking about, right? ⬇️

I have caught up with the main episodes, but not the events so all I can tell you about the elf-looking man derived from there. To be specific, from Ep. 4 Ch. 3 part 7 titled 出会い/The Encounter and Ch. 5 part 8-11 and 13-14.

⚠️ Spoiler alert ⚠️

To be honest, I don't pay attention to him too much when reading, sorry 😭

Indeed, knowing his name would be nice, but I believe that information is yet to be revealed. His name box is always filled with "???" throughout the entirety of Episode 4. What we readers are allowed to know at this point is that he is one of the "valley-dwellers" of the Western Land/西の大地の渓谷の民.

(If this results from my inattention rather than the fact, then I apologise in advance 🙇 I'm pretty sure his name hasn't been dropped though...)

Long story short, the people from there are being kidnapped and the elf guy is looking for them. He refers to the missing people with the word 同胞 (brethren/brothers/compatriot).

The Master, or us readers so to speak, met him by accident in the forest around nighttime. Boschi, Ammon, Muu, and the Master went to visit the grave of Boschi's grandmother. Due to its location, they had to camp out in the forest for the night. The Master, who was awaken from sleep for a reason, heard a noise and went to check the source by themselves.

That was when they saw an injured man, the elf-guy, for the first time. After the Master left for help, the elf was shown to mutter to himself, something along the lines of "A dream? No it's not... So that's what the master of the devil butlers... To think that we'd meet each other here of all places..."

I don't remember exactly what he said, but recall noting that the elf-guy seems to recognise our identity as the devil butlers' master.

(When the Master came back bringing Boschi and Ammon, the man was no longer in the same spot)

You're right about him playing a bigger part in the latest installment, but... /scratch head. Even though I already put a spoiler warning above, I'll say it again just in case. If anyone reading this would like to avoid a major spoiler, don't read what is written below.

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

he's apparently the culprit behind the noblemen kidnapping case, an incident Finlay requests the devil butlers to look into

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

That's all I can remember for the moment, I guess...? Reading what I myself just wrote, I can't help but be aware that this might not be much. I hope you enjoy nonetheless. If something comes up, I'll add it in a reblog or even make a new post.

Have a nice week! 💗

[disorganizedkitten]

You'll Survive Chapter 1

Miraculous Ladybug | 2018 | 820 | Ao3 | Masterlist | Next

Growing up and leaving the nest is hard, but being with friends lightens the blow. Unless you are Chloe Bourgeois, in which case you have to make friends to help pull that weight. Or maybe you already have some, you just didn’t think of them.

Chloe slung her purse over her shoulder, intent to meet up with her roommates and convince them that she’ll be a good housemate.

She had been trying a little better to be nice, with Pollen’s help of course, but it was hard. Hard enough that most of the people she had been paired with for rooming had been overly hostile and happy to get her out of the house. If this set didn’t work out, she’d probably just have to get her own place. That wasn’t a problem, but she really wanted to make a friend. At least one!

It was lonely without Sabrina, but Chloe wanted her friend to be happy, and that meant letting the redhead follow her own dreams.

Chloe started up the concrete stairs, breathing deeply so she didn’t freak out. This should not make her this nervous.

It shouldn’t!

She started counting doors as soon as she reached the top. E7, E9, F1, F3, and finally, F4. Oh heckle she was here. “Wish me luck Pollen,” she breathed quietly, reaching her hand into the purse she carried the Kwami around in.

“You can do it Chloe! I believe in you! Besides, thirteenth time’s the charm, right?”

“I hope you’re right.”

Chloe pulled her hand away from Pollen’s comforting fur and knocked. Thirteenth time’s the charm.

“Race you!” sound erupted from the apartment, giggles, yells, and a bang on the door from that side.

“Hey!”

“I win!”

“I was a room farther away!”

“Oh sure you were ‘miss faster than a cat,’” the door swung open as the second voice grumbled. “Hello- Chloe?”

Chloe froze. “Alya?”

“Yeah, actually. What’s up?”

Marinette poked her head over Alya’s shoulder, eyes wide. “Is this a you-know-what emergency?”

“No, um, I’m supposed to be doing a roommate interview here?” Chloe didn’t sound as confident as she hoped. But, this was Alya and Marinette. Two of her superpowered teammates. How bad could it be?

Marinette’s face lit up at her words. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re accepted,” Marinette said, not even pausing to consider anything.

“She is?” Alya asked, turning to her friend.

“I am?” Chloe parroted. That, was fast.

Marinette waved Chloe inside and dragged Alya over to a couch. The apartment was small, but obviously decorated by the two. The decor was an easy mix of Creolian, Chinese, and French, with pink and white furniture and framed pictures of Alya, Marinette, and their friends and families.

“Would Pollen like a snack?” Marinette asked, moving over to the small kitchen and digging through a container.

“Yes please!” Pollen replied, poking her head out of Chloe’s purse.

Marinette dropped a couple things on a tray and brought it over to the living room’s small table, carefully moving a stack of papers over so it could fit.

“Chloe, are you joining us?”

“Sure,” Chloe moved over to sit down on the edge of the couch, feeling less apprehensive.

Marinette sat down in between Alya and Chloe, opening her purse to let her own Kwami, Tikki, out. Tikki moved over to the tray and picked up a cookie, waving Pollen over. Pollen hugged Chloe’s arm encouragingly before moving over to her fellow.

“Right, why are we taking her in Marinette?” Alya asked, as her orange Kwami, Trixx, joined Tikki and Pollen on the snack tray.

“Chloe, do you want to convince her or do you want me too?” Marinette asked cooly.

“Um,-”

“See, she doesn’t even have a reason,” Alya cut in.

“Okay, Alya, why not?”

Alya scowled, but didn’t answer.

“I promise I’ll pull my weight, and I already know about Kwami and Miraculous, so you don’t have to worry about those, and I,” Chloe paused and looked at Pollen for encouragement.

Pollen brushed some crumbs off her fluff and floated up a little bit. “With Sabrina doing that Genius school in Britain, we need someone to stay with. It’s no fun being friendless.”

Alya’s scowl turned into a frown. “That, I can agree with. Okay.”

“See? All good, and Chloe’s a much better roommate than some stranger. Let me grab the papers,” She stood up and dashed down a short hallway to another room.

“Sorry about that Chloe,” Alya said, quietly. “I know you’re not the same person you were then, but it’s harder for me to accept than it should be. Marinette, the girl’s kindness incarnate and is happy you are. I’m happy you’re breaking out of your Mother’s shadow, please don’t doubt that, but first impressions leave a, well, an impression.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad you’re letting me prove myself to you.”

“Always. You’ve helped us fight against a worse evil than you ever were, just know that sometimes I’ll be rude out of context.”

“Considering how many times I was to you, just for the fun of it, go ahead.”

“Teammates?” Alya asked, holding out a hand.

“Roommates,” Chloe corrected, taking it.

“Friends,” Marinette added, coming back into the room.

[your-regina]

I wanna eat the world with french fries

Do you know that feeling of never being just ok? Like it's too cold to not wear a jacket but too hot to wear it, like something stuck on your teeth, an itch you can't scratch. The feeling of simply being unwell.

What's bothering you now?

I want to scratch it till it bleeds. I want to bleed out and make them drink it. I want to chase. I want to haunt. I want to be loved like I have loved.

Why is it that I must drown in my ego every single time? Why can't I ever rise from the bottom of this endless sorrow? Why does it always lead back to the same blue infinity?

I can be so much more. I can be the ghost behind your mirror, the shadows you'll fear as much as you lacked any love for me. I'm a drowned one, ashes in your naked eye.

I saw infinity in this abyss I've owned for so long, but you failed to see more than darkness in it. I placed the last of my light in you but it was quickly swallowed, like you're the end of the world, like you're the real void I always feared.

Now I feel heart sucked into a black hole, tender and seasoned with the salt of your sea of lies. I don't think you ever meant it, but you've swallowed the last of me as a snack. I now lack my humanity; you've rendered me soulless like a discarded doll, only moving when you're not looking.

I feel like I'm stuffed with herbs, my individuality turned into your midnight dessert, my eyes your appetizer, my lungs a side dish. My blood has boiled and caramelized. I don't even need it, just take it home, I'm so full.

I also want to take myself home, freeze whatever's left, collect your crumbs to try to piece me back together. Would you mind spitting back some of me?

I shiver when I think about what I have made of this weak will. I'd come back as a pile of bones if you so much as muttered my name, you'd have this mess of a heart to suckle. I hate how much I have forgiven and continue to forgive in my dreams. I don't ever dream of the future, but I sure dream of you, of sharing this hell with someone else, even better if it's you.

You see, this is all I know. If I've lost you I could very well lose my spine as well, I could very well have my head turned into a mushroom.

I can almost smell the stench of the dumpster you've dropped this corpse I call me. You grimace as you drop me in, never to be seen again, no more than a discarded side dish.

I'm no more than a bump on the road, an apple that went bad in your backpack and you just need to get rid of it. In any case, in any at all, I'm just destined to be cast aside. You just jump over me, clean the stain I've left on your life like a moldy leftover.

I was hooked and fished out of a badly contaminated ocean, cleaned properly for consumption. Now I'm past my expiration date, am I not? This was the end from the beginning, I know them by heart. And this heart is giving out. It can only stand so many endings.

[sweet-villain]

You Were Always My Choice ~ S.H

Author's Note : Happy Valentines, @witchy-munson <3

Summary: You were too fond how close Nancy and Steve were getting. You decide to take matters in your own hands when you show up to a Valentines Day party with an unknown man by your side. Steve is alert and wants your attention. But will you give it to him?

You tightened the grip on the bowl you were holding hearing Steve and Nancy laugh in the living room while you were getting snacks in the kitchen. You gritted your teeth in anger opening a bag of chips and pouring them into a bowl.

" You look like you blew a fuss" Dustin says standing by your side. You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing him right next to you.

"Jesus, Henderson. Don't go scaring me like that, I could of flung these chips in your face" Dustin chuckled as he took one from the bowl.

" But you didn't" he grinned, taking the bowl. " Don't stand in the kitchen too long or you'll miss the movie" he says.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance turning around to get the rest of the snacks.

" Need any help?" Steve says as he walks into the kitchen. His eyes drop where your hands are opening a bag of pretzels. " You and Munson have some sort of addition with pretzels. Are you sure your not siblings?"

You snort as you peek into the living room seeing Dustin plop down next to Eddie on the couch as the two started to attack each other with pillows.

" I'm sure" your eyes meet his brown eyes. Your fingers itch to run your fingers through his hair.

" Movie starting soon, you don't wanna miss it" he says, pointing with his finger behind him. You nod carrying a bowl of pretzels, while he carried the other snacks.

" Did you get me my own bowl?" Eddie asks spotting the pretzels in your hands. " You have two hands and two feet, Munson. Go get it yourself" you sat down on the other couch next to Robin watching as Steve plops next to Nancy.

You looked away in case he felt your eyes on him and it would give you away what you were feeling inside.

" He's missing out, he's a dingus. Don't mind him" Robin whispers into your ear. " You're really hot" she adds, with a wink causing you to laugh. A hand reaches into a bowl you were holding, it's a ring clad hand reaching for a bunch of pretzels.

" Munson! I don't know where your hands have been, get your hands out of my pretzels" Eddie laughs as he playfully shoves his hand of pretzels against your mouth.

This action caused Steve to look over as his jaw clenched at the sight of Eddie laughing while you shoved Eddie away from you.

" You're an idiot" you mumbled standing up and dusting off the crumbs off your shirt. Steve looked away in anger.

He couldn't help himself seeing you intact with Eddie like that wishing it was him that peeked your interest. Nancy watched as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

She rolled her eyes at the way he was acting. He should really tell you how he feels.

‎♡‧₊˚

You stepped out of the dressing room as Robin waiting in the chair looking bored out of her mind. She had promised to take you shopping with her but she honestly was looking for a dress that would woo the eyes of Steve Harrington. Dingus needed to get it through his head that he should tell you how he feels when all he's doing is making it look like the two of you are just friends.

" Which dress is this?" She asked overlooking the racks to her right. You had tried almost every color that you thought would look good on you but when you walked out of the dressing room each time, Robin kept yelling, " Next!"

" The sixth dress, I think" you tell her through the door. " I can't get the zipper"

" Let me see" Robin says watching the door open and you step out in a red dress that made her gasp at the sight of you. " It's perfect" she says more to herself than you. " You look so hot" she says, clearing her throat. "If you weren't into Steve, I would totally swoop you off your feet."

" What about Vicky?" Robin waved her hand as she twirl her finger for you to turn around. You turned around feeling her fingers zip up your dress as she looks at you in the mirror.

" He's not going to see what's coming" you shrugged.

" I don't really know anymore, Steve talks about Nancy this and Nancy that. I'm so tired of it" Robin shoots you a sympathetic look through the mirror brushing your hair behind your ears as she looks at you.

" You're breath taking, you don't need Steve to tell you that"

Your cheeks flushed red as you playfully push her shoulders, " Flattery works on me."

" Oh god, you sound like Munson now" you rolled your eyes, " we could be siblings. But he's my best friend "Robins nods.

" I don't see you ever getting with Eddie" you shrugged.

" I'm going with a new guy I've met at work to the party" her eyebrow shoots up in interests. " I'm all ears, but first you need to buy this dress. It screams you"

You bought the dress and began to tell Robin about the new guy. Honestly, he was just a distraction from Steve but she didn't need to know that.

‎♡‧₊˚

Robin was the one who ended up inviting everyone over to Steve's house over this Valentines Day party. Your hands reach the door handle throwing it open with your so called date behind you. You were wearing the dress that you bought out shopping with Robin.

" You look so hot" Robin spots you as she throws her arms around you, a drink in her hand. " Are you drunk?" you asked her. She shook her head raising her index and thumb up and pinching it showing you a small space in between.

" Tipsy. Not drunk" Vicky comes up behind her as her eyes spot you.

" Oh my god, look at you. You are absolutely stunning" she says.

" Thank you" you smile at her looking around to see Steve popping his head to the music as he threw his hands up. " Is he okay?" you giggled watching him sway his hips to the music.

Robin and Vicky looked towards your line of vision, laughing as Steve danced or whatever he wad doing.

Your smile drops spotting Nancy make her way over to him, and whispering something his ear. Your date had his arm wrapped around as he looked bored

His eyes land on you when he finds you and he stopped listening to what Nancy was telling him. His breath hitches as he takes you in. That dress on you fits you so well, the way you look so stunning surrounded by people.

He felt his heart race as his eyes roam to your legs, he can see they are smooth and his hand itched to run them down to feel the softness of your skin.

" Jesus, Steve. Go talk to her, you look like you are about to have a heart attack" he hears Nancy speak to him. When Steve glares at her from a brief moment and turns to look at you. Your gone. His eyes roam the room to see if he could spot you and instead he leaves Nancy standing there without another word.

He finds you in the kitchen with your date talking to you. His hand clenches by his side. Who was this person? Steve has never seen him in his life.

You don't notice that Steve was following you and been staring at you since you walked through the doors of his house. He can't keep his eyes off of you as he continues to take you in. You were beautiful. He always saw you like that. He was too afraid to admit it to you on how he felt. He didn't want to lose you.

" That dress looks really nice on you" your heard from the side. Steve. He had made his way over to you not standing the fact that you were attached to someone else. He wanted to be the one to be attached to you.

" Thank you, Steve" you mumble throwing him a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. " I need something stronger than this" you brought the cup to your lips as you tasted it.

" I got you" your date says as he slips away leaving you with Steve.

" Where is Nancy?" you asked. There it was, he could see the way your eyes got a bit darker and your jaw clenched.

" She's somewhere" he shrugged keeping his eye on you.

" Why aren't you with her?" you asked.

" She's not the one I've been looking for" your eyebrows scrunched up together in confusion. Steve liked another girl? Who?

" Is it any of the girls here?" you asked, leaning into his ear to whisper. It was so loud at the party.

He nodded, " she's the prettiest out of all of them. Red suits her" you pulled your head away over looking the girls he must be talking about. Not anyone is in red except for you.

" I-Ive gotta find my date" Steve frown the fact that you want to get away from him.

‎♡‧₊˚

Steve finds you sitting on his stairs with a cup in your hands.

" Where's your date?" he asks, sitting besides you. He's no longer drinking as his mind took over the way you look tonight and why he wasn't the one who had his arm wrapped around you.

" Over there, making out with that one" you motion with your hand over to the living room. Steve looks over for a moment mumbling " prick" underneath his breath as he turns to you.

" are you okay?"

" Peachy" he frowns, reaching up to brush away your hair and put it behind your ear.

" It's his loss honestly" you shrugged.

" Not like any man would want someone like me" his eyebrows knitted together. " Someone like you? Have you seen you?"

" What are you saying, Harrington?"

" You're absolutely beautiful, you're kind, you're passionate, you're funny, you make people laugh till they cry, you bring out the best in people and you never cease to amaze me" your eyes met his brown eyes as they shined. His lips are turned into a smile as he looks at you.

" I don't understand" he chuckles.

" You've always been the girl I've most paid attention too" this time you were the one chuckling.

" Don't lie to me, Steve. Don't" he shakes his head.

" It was never about anyone else, ask anyone" you motion your hand over to Nancy were she danced. " What about her?"

" Nancy is nothing compared to you, you were always going to be my first choice and every choice I make after. No one can change that"

" Steve.."

" No one" he leans in, looking you in your eyes before his eyes fall down to your lips. " Just you" he whispers against your lips. " Always you" he says pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is soft and full of passion as your turn your body to face him. He cups your face with both his hands, kissing you like you were going to slip out of his hands.

You couldn't believe what was happening and all because of the red dress that Robin had picked out. It caught the attention of the boy you have been crazy about for. You need to take Robin more with you when you go shopping.

You pulled away breathless as he rest his forehead against yours, " You are my only choice. Okay?"

" Okay" you nodded, leaning back in as you kiss him.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

do you mayhaps have any scruffy!verse crumbs for scruffy believers… *said with quivering lip and teary eyes*

"Jason stop it's not-"

"Humor me."

"Jay."

"Pockets it's not- I just-"

"Drop it."

Bruce watched Jason glare at you, folding his arms and looming over you- something that would probably make any number of thug roll over and show their belly but. Not you.

You met his glare and with a look that could have frozen water and Bruce held his breath. He didn't know what this whisper-screamed argument was about but he was acutely aware that he was watching a game of chicken- one to which there was no real winner.

And Jason looked away first looking frustrated, "Fine," he bristled.

"Thank you," you say simply, turning and walking away from him. And it wasn't until you were safely down the hall and out of earshot that he swore quietly, letting himself look worried.

"Everything okay-"

"Fine." Jason said gritting his teeth, "Just fucking fine."

"Hn." He turned back to his case file and waited. Counting down in his head as he listened. Any number of things could be happening- some of them were more likely than others. More than one of them could be happening. It was impossible to know for sure, at least until one of you could be conned into talking. And that, he knew from experience wasn't an easy trick. You'd close ranks and have a story together faster than GCPD doing a cover-up. Honestly, you could probably give them some pointers.

Jason stalked into the study and dropped into a chair, the expression on his face still stormy, and Bruce struggled to stay neutral, "Jay it's just an argument, give her a couple hours and-"

When his son glared at him, Bruce set the file down, "Are we going to do this the easy way or do I have to-"

"She's going to see her mom," he said, eyes narrowing.

"And you don't want her to-"

"Of course I fucking don't. Every time she goes up there she comes back fucked up for days."

Part of the truth. He could work with that. It made sense that he'd be mad about it. He hated seeing you upset and he still hadn't come to grips with your own mental health issues. It scared him. Even if you didn't self-medicate the ups and downs with illicit substances.

"Does her mother still not remember anything?"

"Not even her kid's name. Y/N is just the nice girl that brings her snacks."

Bruce nodded slowly, "Y/N is used to-"

"That doesn't make it right," Jason snapped. "And she doesn't need the stress."

"I don't see how this is any different-"

"Because she just doesn't," Jason said flatly, getting up and sweeping out of the study. And before Bruce can stop him, he's going. To try and get to you before you left. Presumably, because while he might have lost a game of chicken he wasn't willing to lose the war.

[magniloquent-raven]

Could a I get trans!Tommy x Billy fic where Billy finds out Tommy is trans and he's freaking out but Billy just reassures him and comforts him until one thing leads to another and they end up having sex?

this ended up 1) a college au for some reason, 2) t4t because i started writing billy as trans without even thinkin about it at first lmao and 3) MUCH longer than i thought it would be, holy shit

i hope all that's okay & i really hope u enjoy ur fic 💕💕💕

~tag list ppl just in case yall are interested even tho its a ship ive never written before? @growup-thatbeautiful @spreckle @prettyboy-like-you ~

[read on ao3]

**

“Carol broke up with me again,” Tommy says, words slurred by the alcohol in his system and muffled by his forearm squished against his cheek. He blinks up at Billy from where he’s half-laying on the peeling cover of his algebra text book. They didn’t bother clearing the homework from his desk before dumping three six-packs and a plastic bag stuffed with snack food on top of the mess. 

He’s usually a fun drunk, Billy wouldn’t have brought beer if he’d known it was gonna go like this. 

But of course it’s because of Carol. It’s always because of Carol. Except that one time it was because of a phonecall with his mother that he refused to talk about, even after the tequila loosened his lips enough to have him waxing poetic about his ex-bff with a wistful look in his eye. 

“Again?” Billy leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. He’s got one booted foot propped on the edge of Tommy’s roommate’s bed. “This is the third time in four months, man. Is your dick too small to keep her satisfied, or what.”

He’s supposed to push back. That’s how this works. He’s supposed to bristle and sit up and defend himself, because he has some fucking pride. And before he knows it he’ll be too busy exchanging barbs with Billy to think about how miserable he is about the breakup. 

He’s not supposed to turn his head, hiding his face in his folded arms, and mumble, “Something like that…” all morose and self-pitying. 

Because no one comes to Billy for this shit. To be vulnerable. To talk about feelings and have an honest heart-to-heart and a shoulder to cry on and all that crap people want when they’re going through a real break-up. He can put on a good face when girls come sniffing around for a rebound lay. The girls who got screwed over by their white-bread boyfriends and want to pretend they’re over it by getting fingerbanged in a public bathroom by some bad boy who won’t call them after. But fake sympathy and an uncanny ability to deflect questions about why he doesn’t want his touch reciprocated did not prepare him for…whatever is happening right now.

“Y’know there’s other ways to fuck a girl, right,” Billy says from behind his beer. There’s not much left and it’s still not making this conversation any easier.

Tommy groans, burrowing deeper into his sleeves. “I know.”

“Hm.”

“S’complicated.”

“Not if you know what you’re looking—wait. The break-up. Right. Look, you want my advice? Move on. Live a little. You came halfway across the country to, what, stay leashed to the same pussy you’ve been getting since you were twelve? Who the fuck does that.”

“Dunno.”

Billy blows out a slow breath, then downs the rest of his beer. He drops the empty can on Tommy’s desk and watches it rock, tip, and fall over. It rolls, wobbling through drying condensation rings and chip crumbs ‘til it hits Tommy’s elbow, coming to a stop next to his left ear. He doesn’t move.

The assholes next door are having an obnoxiously loud argument, only slightly muffled through the thin walls. The radio on Tommy’s bedside table warbles through a jingle that keeps cutting in and out. Neither of them speak for a long, awkward moment.   

“...She really did a number on you, huh.”

Tommy sighs. “Nah.” He pauses, then peeks out from the crook of his arm. “Kinda.” He stares at the can nestled up against his arm, looking uncharacteristically contemplative. “Dunno, man, I just want people to stop leaving me.”

Billy’s lungs seize painfully, his whole chest tightening around the jagged edges of a sympathetic twinge, like gripping a shard of glass in his fist, cutting himself open on it. There’s anger dripping from that open wound, familiar and yet foreign in its compassion for Tommy of all people. 

They’ve never been especially close. Billy’s not especially close with anybody, and he always figured hanging around Tommy would make it easy to keep it that way. The guy just gives off a vibe. The small town jock type, only ever wants to talk about tits and booze and whatever stupid, embarrassing gossip he can turn into a joke.

For six months Billy’s been content to do that, to hang out with Tommy drinking beer and pretending to care about the low-cut tanktops their English lit professor favours. It feels good, in a way. Safe. But it was never supposed to be about Tommy himself. He wasn’t supposed to care about him. Caring about people is dangerous. Makes it harder to cut ties if he needs to. Or worse, it means the inevitable rejection if he ever gets outed will actually hurt.

Tommy’s still looking at him, sullen and hazy-eyed. His freckles are just barely visible in the shitty lamplight, his hair is sticking up at odd angles, flattened on one side from laying on his desk. He’s kind of pretty when he’s not being a shithead.

Wait. No. No, no. Absolutely the fuck not. Not going there. 

Billy tries very hard to look like he has no opinions about Tommy’s face. Or his stupid puppy-dog eyes.

He bites his tongue when panic tries to sharpen it. The anxiety bubbling in his gut turns to bile burning his throat, and it’s tempting to lash out, to spit venom like the sour taste in his mouth is anyone’s fault but his, like pushing Tommy away would fix anything. 

He hasn’t seen Max since he moved into his tiny dorm room on campus. Hasn’t spoken to her since his acceptance letter came in months before that. He thought it would make things easier, better for both of them, but now he just gets angry at himself when seeing flashes of red hair makes his heart clench. 

It’s only ever made his life worse, he doesn’t know why he keeps trying it. 

The first time he let a boy fuck him he felt so shitty about it afterwards that he told everyone who would listen that the guy kissed like a dead fish and couldn’t even get his dick hard. It made Billy feel something, when people laughed and said that probably meant he was a fag. Something sickly and awful, but somehow vindicating. 

He caught three meatheads beating the shit out of the boy who took his virginity three weeks after he lied about it never happening. The look on his bloodied face still haunts Billy’s nightmares. 

Billy’s never made anyone’s life better by being in it. He doesn’t know what to say to someone who doesn’t want to be left.

“Yeah, I hear you, amigo,” he says grimly, and regrets it immediately. It’s too personal. Too self-pitying. It’s echoes of when is mom coming home, and a slap ringing in his ears, a phantom ache in his jaw, the taste of salt and iron.   

He keeps his gaze locked on a tiny dent near the top of the unopened beer he reaches for, hoping to occupy his hands, only to be stopped in his tracks when clumsy fingers pat his knuckles. He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a comforting gesture or if Tommy’s just too drunk to keep his hand steady and was trying to grab ahold of him. 

The look on his face is oddly intense, sombre, like stroking the back of Billy’s hand is the most important thing he’s ever done and it’s taking all his concentration to do it. There’s a little pinch between his eyebrows, and a slant to his mouth.

Billy should snatch his hand away, but he lets it happen. Despite his embarrassment it’s kind of nice. 

“I like having you around.”

Well. That might be a bridge too far. Maybe. The tips of his ears feel hot. “Okay, I think you’ve probably had enough to drink tonight, Hagan.”

Tommy scoffs, his nose wrinkling a little.

“Seriously, if you propose to my hand I’m never buying you beer again.” 

“Liar.” 

“Don’t test me.” Billy can’t quite keep the laugh out of his voice.

“Pff.” He pauses, his fingertips coming to rest along the length of Billy’s thumb, pinky finger toying with the ragged edge of his nail. “You like having me around, right?” There’s a desperate edge to the question, a tremble that makes Billy nervous. 

“I—” He chews the inside of his cheek, studying the sad twist pulling at the corner of Tommy’s mouth. “Yeah.” Maybe he’s drunk enough he won’t remember this tomorrow. Maybe that’s why Billy nudges his hand, linking two of their fingers together, a tiny smile tugging at his lips when Tommy gapes at him. “Yeah I do.”

**

Billy’s head pounds when he stirs, rustling unfamiliar sheets, and the light filtering in through crooked blinds makes his eyes ache. At least the cottonmouth isn’t too bad, and his stomach seems to be behaving itself. He’s definitely had worse, much worse. 

There’s a groan across the room. He buries his face into the borrowed pillow tucked under his arm to hide a snicker. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy grumbles. There’s a whoosh of displaced air and a muffled thump. A pillow hitting the carpet. “Shit.”

“Nice aim.”

“Urgh.”

He doesn’t have class today, there’s no rush to be anywhere, but he’s never been good at laying around doing nothing. His first few weeks of adjusting to life free from Neil he tried sleeping in, rebelling against rules he was no longer bound by, but he mostly ended up staring at water-stained ceilings bored out of his mind. He doesn’t bother anymore. The entire life he’s building for himself is a fuck you to Neil, he doesn’t need every little thing to be about him.

He stretches, his shoulder popping loudly in the early-morning quiet, and glances over at the lump of blankets in Tommy’s bed. 

“How’s your head?” Billy asks, not bothering to keep the smirk out of his voice.

Tommy grunts. The outline of his shoulder shifts slightly. 

“That bad, huh.”

Another noncommittal noise. 

Billy rolls his eyes, pushing himself upright and out of bed. His jeans are around here somewhere in the mess, but he doesn’t remember taking them off, and definitely doesn’t remember tossing them…over the half-eaten remains of last night’s pizza. Gross. 

There’s a grease stain on the back of one thigh, but they pass the sniff test.

He’s wiggling them over his hips when Tommy finally sits up. “M’ gonna be sick,” he croaks, and falls out of bed in a tangle of sheets and oversized t-shirt bunched around his midriff. Billy gets a glimpse of soft freckled stomach and a yellowing tanktop before Tommy gives his shirt a hurried tug, smoothing it down with jittery hands. 

He doesn’t look at Billy as he staggers towards the door, steps over discarded gym shorts, catches his toe on the busted folding chair his roommate keeps promising to fix, and finally slips into the hallway, hissing curses under his breath. 

And Billy doesn’t think anything of it. Tommy’s never a ray of sunshine in the morning, and he’s even worse when nursing a hangover. He was focused on getting to the bathroom down the hall before he tossed his cookies all over the floor, he didn’t exactly have time to stop and make small talk. It’s not weird.

But it gets weird. 

Billy waits way too long for him to come back. He tosses back the last of his flat, warm beer. Combs out his curls with his fingers, carefully rearranging them in the mirror propped next to Tommy’s sparse bookshelf. Picks through the crumpled worksheets strewn across the desk. And finally decides to check if Tommy choked on his own vomit. 

Only he’s nowhere to be found.

And, fine, Billy’s not needy or whatever, he can get breakfast on his own. It’s not like they had plans Tommy’s flaking out on, Billy just kinda thought…

It doesn’t matter what he thought. It’s fine.

He goes back to his own dorm. Changes his jeans. Isn’t bothered.

…He’s a little bothered when he sees Tommy later that day and Tommy bugs the fuck out, all but fleeing in the opposite direction. 

Because. Yeah, that’s weird. 

Doubt starts to dig its spindly fingers in, thin and brittle but pointed. 

They both said some shit last night. Which was Tommy’s fucking fault, getting drunk like that when he was in a mood. And he’s the one who kept trying to make it all touchy-feely. 

Christ, he should’ve fucking known Tommy was going to remember, it was stupid to engage with him in the first place. Shit’s awkward now because he’s a fucking sucker and now Tommy knows it. 

Or maybe it’s more than awkward, and Tommy’s straight-up pissed at him. Billy’s stomach curdles at the thought. 

He can’t handle this. Tying himself up in knots because he got the brush-off. Worrying and wondering and chewing his thumbnail ‘til he tastes blood. It’s pathetic. 

Tommy doesn’t have class today either, so Billy checks his dorm first. 

And then he checks the cafeteria. The lot behind the cafeteria where Tommy smokes sometimes. Carol’s dorm—thankfully empty, he doesn’t feel like answering a million questions and then having his answers dissected by her and her friends after he leaves. 

He’s running out of places to look when he spots Tommy next to a payphone in front of the main office. The walkway is empty, it’s just Tommy hunched around the phone, clutching it in both hands and deeply engrossed in his conversation. Enough that he doesn’t seem to notice Billy approaching.

His voice is low, but Billy catches snippets. Carol’s name. “Mamá,” sighed repeatedly, exasperated. He gets more agitated every time he stutters to a halt, apparently cut off. 

“I just thought you should know, okay!” Tommy runs a hand through his hair and rolls his eyes skyward. “No—no, mamá, iba a traerla—yes, I was…”

Billy leans against cold brick, his denim jacket scraping the wall as he crosses his arms, waiting. 

“Ese no es mi problema,” he snaps, glaring at nothing and getting steadily louder. “No. I’m not her precious little neita anymore, she can’t stay in denial forever!”

Oh?

Billy’s ears are ringing. Tommy’s voice is an indistinct buzz.

It could be nothing. A slip of the tongue. Billy’s Spanish getting rusty. It could be Billy reading into things—hoping, like that’s ever gotten him anything but heartbroken—just, seeing things that aren’t there because he wants to be a little less alone. 

But still. He’s never seen Tommy wearing less than two shirts, and he's always been just as averse to the dorm's shared bathroom as Billy is. Sometimes tiny, incidental things will throw him off, but Billy never thought much of it until now. Until he was smacked in the face with the possibility that Tommy could be like him. 

It feels a little unreal, a little like vapor he’s trying to catch with his bare hands, not quite solid but leaving enough droplets of water on his hands that he’s knows there’s something.

Tommy seems to realize he’s shouting, and glances around, worrying his bottom lip. It slips from between his teeth when he locks eyes with Billy and his jaw goes slack. 

Because he’s been trying to avoid Billy all day or because he thinks he might’ve just outed himself?

Either way his posture immediately changes, going rigid, spine straightening, holding himself with enough bravado that it almost hides the way his gaze darts around, nervously scanning the empty sidewalk. Looking for an exit, probably. 

He mumbles a rushed goodbye into the receiver, not waiting for a response before he slams the phone back onto its hook and folds his arms, fists balled in the crooks of his elbows.

“I swear to god, I’ll piss on your pillow if you take off on me again.” Billy pushes away from the building, pointing a threatening finger. 

“I wasn’t—fuckin’—what the hell. Gross.”

“So don’t leave.” The words twinge as they leave his mouth, falling heavier between them than Billy really meant them to. Tommy flinches. Just a little. The tiniest twitch at the corner of his eye. A minute change to the slope of his shoulders. Billy exhales slow through his nose. “What’s the deal, Hagan.”

“Shit,” Tommy mutters, sweeping a hand through his hair and shifting away from Billy with a grimace. “Shit. Look, man, I don’t know what you think you heard, but it’s—I’m not. Y’know what, just forget about it, okay.”

Billy raises an eyebrow. He can feel his heartbeat racing, hammering at the inside of his ribcage. “Forget what exactly,” he says, keeping his voice even. 

He has to know. For sure. He can’t just out himself for a maybe. 

“Don’t play dumb, you’re shitty at it,” Tommy snaps, but there’s a thready quality to it. “I’m not gonna fucking say it. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?”

“I saw the look on your face, man, I’m not stupid. I know what it looks like when someone realizes they’ve been hanging out with a fuckin’ freak.” He jabs a finger at Billy, gesturing in a vague circle around his face. “That. Right before the regret sets in. And you bail. Or worse.” He clenches his teeth, a muscle in his jaw twitching. It’s not quite enough to hide the current of anxiety thrumming through his jerky movements. 

There are things he should say right now. Things he should do. But all he’s getting it static. Fuzz. He’s wildly spinning a dial and getting nothing but snippets of words that he loses in the white noise. 

He’s fucking this up. 

He tongues his cheek. Deliberates. 

“We should take this somewhere else,” he says carefully, pointedly flicking his gaze towards the office building behind them. They might be alone out here, but there’s no guarantee they’ll stay that way. There are people in there. For all he knows there could be someone peeking through the blinds at them right now.

But Tommy just stares at him, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Would you just—” Billy blows out an irritated breath. The back of his neck is prickling, like he’s being watched. He can’t fucking concentrate. “It’s not what you think.” The scoff he gets in response is not encouraging. “I’m not bailing on you, alright, would you just come with me and let me say my piece?”

If their positions were reversed he knows what he’d do. He wouldn’t risk being alone with someone who just found him out, it’s a stupid fucking thing to do. Anyone who asked him to take that risk would get laughed at and left in the dust. And yet here he is asking Tommy to trust him, like he has any right to do that. 

Promising to stick around doesn’t feel like enough but it’s all he can give right now. He wants it to work so badly it hurts, aches like he’s ripped out a part of himself as an offering. 

Tommy narrows his eyes, looks him up and down, and mutters. “Fine.”

All the air punches out of Billy’s lungs. Maybe he can salvage this.

They walk in stiff silence, a careful six inches apart. Billy’s boots scrape against the pavement. He picks at a scab along the edge of his fingernail, watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye, catching the erratic flash of his hands flitting from place to place, pushing through his hair, adjusting the hem of his shirt. 

His dorm is closer, he steers him in that direction, ignoring Tommy’s suspicious side-eye.

It’ll be fine, he can clear shit up when they get there. It’ll be fine.

Still, guilt squeezes at his insides. 

His dorm room door clicks shut behind them. It’s deafening. 

He has no plan. He probably should have come up with a plan. His palms are sweating and his heart feels like it’s trying to crawl out of his mouth and his throat is so dry he’s not sure he could say anything even if he knew what to say, but…fuck, staring at the ripped corner of his Metallica poster isn’t even remotely productive, he needs to think—

Tommy grips his arm, tight enough to hurt, and tugs him around. His lips are pursed, downturned, and his eyes are bright, intense, flicking across Billy’s face. Billy’s half sure he’s about to get punched—Tommy looks to be working himself up to something—but instead he blinks and Tommy’s gone, Tommy’s…on his knees, clumsy fingers plucking at Billy’s belt buckle. 

“Oh—” Billy sucks in a breath, grabbing Tommy’s wrists. 

Dark eyes glare up at him. “Oh come on, this is what you wanted right? You’re not leaving because you want something. And it’s not gay if I’ve got a pussy, right—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for a second?” Billy says all in an exasperated rush, staring at the ceiling, a little lightheaded. He’s not entirely shocked by the heat that seared through him when he realized what Tommy was trying to do, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he wants him to. And now really isn’t the time to be thinking about using Tommy’s mouth to get off. “Look, I…”

His throat closes up. He still can���t say it.

Slowly, he lowers himself to the floor, sitting on the heels of his boots, his knees brushing Tommy’s. It’s easier to look at him from this angle. Or maybe it’s just because the strange intensity in his gaze has been replaced by confusion. There’s a vulnerable helplessness there that Billy didn’t notice before. Guilt grips him tighter. 

“I told you, it’s not what you think,” he says quietly. 

Before he can lose his nerve—an ignoring all the doubts plaguing him, what if he thinks less of me, what if he’s angry I kept it a secret, what if—Billy hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugs, pulling it over his head. 

Tommy blinks at him. Opens his mouth. Shuts it again.

He doesn’t stare at Billy’s scars. Billy expected him to stare. Showing him the scars was the whole point. He looks at them, sure, but he doesn’t look for very long. His eyes wander, scanning the entire expanse of tanned skin on display. Lingering on the freckles on Billy’s shoulder. The trail of soft blond hair below his belly button. 

If he was less caught up in feeling feelings that made his insides squirm and his fingers itch he might’ve laughed at how dazed Tommy’s looks. But he’s sure his expression isn’t any better. A hot flush prickles up Billy’s chest as he sits there, just letting Tommy ogle. 

“Uh.” Tommy clears his throat. His cheeks are pink. He hasn’t looked up yet. “So…”

“Yeah.”

“You…”

“Yup.”

“Huh.”

A beat. “I mean you can still blow me if you want, I just figured you’d want to know what you were getting into first.”

That does it. Tommy finally makes eye-contact, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead, a startled, slightly hysterical cackle bubbling out of him. The flush on his cheeks is still there but he looks less like he’s been hit over the head. “Asshole,” he says, unable to entirely keep the smile off his face. 

Billy shrugs, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, but I have it on good authority that you like having me around.”

The light in Tommy’s eyes dims a bit, and for a horrible second Billy thinks he’s fucked up again. Tommy huffs a quiet laugh, breaking eye-contact. “Sorry about that, by the way.” 

“What?”

“Uh. Last night. Being all…” He grimaces, and wiggles his fingers in the air. 

“...Is that why you took off this morning?”

“I…maybe.”

“Jesus Christ,” Billy groans, and punches his shoulder. “You aren’t the only one who hates being left behind y’know.” 

“Oh.” 

You had me worried.

He bites his tongue. It doesn’t need to be said. Tommy’s expression is soft, despite the fact that he’s rubbing his bicep where Billy hit him. 

“You didn’t scare me off,” Billy mutters instead, and winces at his own plaintive tone. But he can’t seem to stop now that he’s started. “You still haven’t. Still like having you around. Y’know, if—if you’re gonna stay.” 

Tommy lets out a quiet breath. A tiny noise in the back of his throat. And then he sways forward, closing the gap between them, and kisses Billy square on the mouth.

He’s not expecting it, is the thing. People are usually pretty unsubtle when they want him, and he can read the signs. He knows when someone’s going to make a move and he can prepare, put himself in whatever headspace he needs to be in to get through it. 

And it’s not like he wasn’t aware that Tommy had been checking him out, but this is…it’s something else. 

Because he was caught unawares he doesn’t have a goddamn plan, so he just reacts, messy and a little desperate in a way he hasn’t been since his first few times getting physical with someone. It would be embarrassing, except for the way Tommy’s breath hitches, and he leans into it. He can’t seem to get close enough where he is, because he shuffles forward on his knees ‘til they’re on either side of Billy’s thighs. 

He hovers there, straddling Billy’s lap, still pressing sloppy kisses to his lips, but doesn’t sit until Billy grabs him around his waist and tugs. 

Tommy lets out a sharp puff of a gasp as he’s pulled closer, it’s warm where it tickles Billy’s moustache, and he finally breaks their kiss to snicker. 

“Fuck off, you surprised me,” Tommy says, the annoyed act falling flat when the words come out breathy and trembling. 

“Mhm,” Billy hums, grinning at Tommy’s complete inability to keep a straight face while he slips his fingers under the seam of Tommy’s waistband, toying with the elastic of his briefs while his palms rest comfortably on his lower back. 

There’s a heat simmering in his gut, coiled low and tight, but the weight in his lap and hesitant fingertips pressed to his stomach feel just as pleasant. It’s…weird. New. Fragile. He’s not quite sure what this is but he wants to hold on to it. 

“So…we’re good, right?” He bites inside of his cheek to ground himself, and stop any more stupid questions from falling out of his face.

“Yeah, I mean—yeah? Pretty sure I’m, uh. Very good right now.” His eyes flicker down. “I was better a second ago though.”

Billy pushes the tip of his tongue between his teeth, feeling very smug when Tommy zeroes in on it. “You sure you’re not mad about earlier?” he lets his voice drop an octave, leaning in just enough to feel Tommy’s breathing quicken. “‘Cause I’ll work real hard to make it up to you if you are.”

“That cheesy porno shit usually work for you?” His tone is light, teasing, threaded with laughter, but his gaze is still heavy on Billy’s mouth, pupils blown and hazy with lust.

“Oh please, like it isn’t getting you going?” Billy dips his hands lower, fingertips pressed lightly into the soft flesh of Tommy’s asscheeks. He isn’t digging in, isn’t pushing, but Tommy shifts closer anyways, ‘til their chests are nearly flush, and they touch, briefly, with each shallow breath. “I bet your briefs are soaked right now.” 

Like his are any better, really. It’s taking all his self-control not to squirm and rub his hard little cock all through the slick mess under him. 

Tommy’s eyes fall shut, and he shudders. Billy feels him quiver. He slides his hands up Billy’s chest, palms skimming his ribs, briefly pausing to trace his scars, and coming to rest just under his collarbone. 

A pause.

And Tommy shoves him. Hard. 

His back hits the carpet, knocking the air out of him in a rush, a wheezing, incredulous laugh. Sparks dance up his spine. The heat in his belly flares. Tommy’s looking down at him like he wants to devour him, and Billy’s more than willing to let it happen.

This time when Tommy goes for the belt buckle, he doesn’t stop him. 

It jingles against the button on his jeans, flopping to the side as Tommy fumbles with his fly, hooks his fingers into worn belt loops, and tugs. His jeans are as much of a pain to take off as they always are, they both grimace and groan as he wiggles out of them, stopping to pull off his boots when they get in the way.

“How the hell do you sleep around so much in these?” Tommy mutters, finally prying Billy’s legs free and chucking his rumpled jeans across the room with an annoyed huff.

Billy snorts. “They don’t usually come off.”

“...Oh.” He feels, suddenly, like maybe he’s said too much. The way Tommy’s eyeing him makes him feel every inch of his bare skin on display. He’d sit up, make himself a little less vulnerable, but Tommy’s shifted positions, straddling his stomach. “Do you just do over the clothes stuff, then, or…”

“Don’t really get touched at all, actually. Easier to avoid getting hate-crimed that way.” He turns his face away, cheek brushing the carpet. 

Tommy nods, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, yeah. It’s…Carol’s the only girl I’ve ever been with, and sometimes she didn’t even wanna. Y’know.”

“Yeah, guys aren’t much better, trust me.”

“I know,” he says ruefully, smiling small. “I think maybe Carol only kept me around as long as she did because she couldn’t find any other guy willing to go down on her that much.” 

“Damn, and she still dumped you? So ungrateful.” 

“Ha, yeah, well. She found someone with a real dick apparently. Said she missed getting fucked properly, or whatever.” 

Billy scoffs, “Ten bucks says she comes crawling back in two weeks when she gets tired of being some prick’s fucktoy.” 

He tenses, regretting the thought the second he has it. Tommy’s gotten back with her every time she’s asked. She snaps her fingers and he’s there, hers again like nothing happened. As much as Billy hates watching it happen every time, he gets it. His track record when it comes to letting the people he loves hurt him isn’t any better. But this time…

Does he have any right to hope it’ll be different now? Probably not. 

Tommy raises his eyebrows, a guarded sort of curiosity behind his mostly blank expression. 

“Don’t take her back,” Billy says, softly, stupid, vulnerable hope cracking him open. He focuses on the feeling of Tommy’s slacks under his palms, warm thighs bracketing his torso. The rough scratch of carpet against his bare back. The smell of his musty dorm room. Anything but the way his stomach twists into knots while he waits to get shot down. “She’ll just break your heart again, man,” he adds, like he can cover his ass and make it look like this isn’t about what he wants at all. 

“And you won’t?” He’s quiet. Serious. There’s a sad twist to his mouth. 

“I—” The silence in the air between them is stifling, heavy in Billy’s lungs as his chest rises and falls. In some fucked up way that feels like an admission. An acknowledgement of…something. The idea that Billy might have the power to break his heart is fucking terrifying, and the implications make his head spin. He bites his lip. “Not by leaving.”

Tommy huffs out a dry laugh, bowing his head and giving it a tiny shake. “Gee, thanks.” He’s hiding a smile. A small one, but it’s warm, despite his hesitance. 

Billy grabs the front of Tommy’s shirt, tugging him down while he cranes his neck, meeting him halfway to press a brief kiss to his mouth.

It’s less brief than he planned. Tommy’s fingers end up wound in his hair, his firm grip making Billy’s scalp tingle and heat simmer under his skin. He groans, low in his throat, and licks into Tommy’s mouth in retaliation. 

Time starts to blur a little. He’s not thinking about why he kissed Tommy in the first place. He’s not thinking of stopping, god fucking forbid. All that matters is the sharp, biting pressure of fingernails, the gentle glide of warm lips against his, and the sounds he can pull from Tommy with a flick of his tongue. Everything else is sort of fuzzy. 

He tries nipping Tommy’s bottom lip. Lightly. Testing the waters. He inhales sharply, something like a gasp he caught halfway, and more importantly, his hips jerk forward. Just a little. But him pressing down against Billy’s stomach like that sets a fire inside. An immediate needy wanting that rushes through him like an adrenaline spike. 

Billy pulls back an inch, breathing hard, “Do it again,” he demands, clutching Tommy’s waist with guiding hands, “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Jesus—fuck,” Tommy’s nose brushes his cheek as he starts to move, curling into Billy’s space and panting bitten-off curses in puffs of humid air against his jaw. 

The seam of Tommy’s pants chafes a little, rubbing against the taut line of his stomach, catching on the light dusting of hair, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he can feel Tommy’s legs start to tremble, and he gets to watch the way his face goes slack with pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed as he works his hips back and forth.

It’s not hard to imagine sliding inside him like this. Tommy sitting on his cock, all wet heat and freckled thighs. Riding him ‘til his muscles give out and Billy has to take over, snap his hips over and over, listening to the slap of skin and Tommy’s pleading for more. 

Fuck.

His grip on Tommy’s waist tightens, right as he gives one last jerky thrust, and his whole body tenses. He whimpers right in Billy’s ear before his head drops, hitting his shoulder.

Billy feels like a live wire. He aches. He wants. 

He waits, with bottom lip caught between his teeth, squirming and hoping it’s not too obvious. 

“Sooo,” Tommy drawls, still catching his breath, his nose smushed to Billy’s collarbone. “D’you want me to blow you, or was that—”

“Fuck, yes.”

Tommy snickers. “Alright. Prepare to have your world rocked.”

“Oh, and my pick-up line was cheesy porno shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Dick.”

His shoulders shake with barely suppressed laughter, and Billy can feel his smile widen. He’d almost be content to bask in the moment like a cat in a sunbeam, except—

Tommy shifts, sliding a thigh between his legs and pressing, and yeah, that’s much better, nevermind. He lets out a slow, shaky breath, staring hazily at the water-stained ceiling. 

“You liked seeing me get off, huh.” Tommy kisses his chest, lips still curved into a smile. Billy swallows hard, and folds his lips between his teeth. “You soaked right through your underwear. I can feel it.” 

He’s making his way down way too slowly. On purpose, the little shit. But Billy refuses to crack. He can wait. It’s fine. He only feels a little bit like he��s going to explode.

Tommy replaces his thigh with his hand as he crawls backward, trailing a light finger over the growing wet spot and not doing nearly enough to ease the throbbing ache between Billy’s legs, his lips trail down, inch by agonizing inch as he goes. He’s got nice lips. Billy wouldn’t mind kissing him for hours. Being kissed. 

Being kissed somewhere very specific right fucking now.

Billy’s legs spread a little further apart, without really meaning to, he arches his back, wriggles, trying to subtly get Tommy where he needs to be a little faster. 

Except he fucking pauses. Kisses Billy’s hipbone. Flashes an absolutely shit-eating grin. 

“Would you hurry the fuck up,” Billy groans.

Which cracks Tommy up. A laugh he’d obviously been holding back bursts out of him, muffled a little as he leans into Billy’s stomach, his shoulders shaking. 

“I hate you so much.”

Tommy looks up at him, eyes shining. “Nah. You don’t.”

“Fine, but I’d like you a lot more if you stopped being a tease.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, and finally, finally, settles between Billy’s legs, flashing a grin before he pushes Billy’s briefs aside and drags his tongue through the wetness underneath. 

“Jesusfuckingchrist—” Billy inhales sharply, his whole body arching into the sweet pressure of Tommy’s mouth, somehow ending up with one leg hooked around him, trying to pull him closer. “Oh fuck.”

A whine catches in his throat when Tommy huffs a laugh, warm air somehow feeling cool against his flushed skin. He’s beyond caring about looking desperate, he just needs more. More of this. He rocks against the steady stroke of Tommy’s tongue, his breath hitching every time he brushes his cock and a concentrated bolt of pleasure lances through him.

Then Tommy wraps his lips around it, and sucks, and Billy’s vision whites out. It feels so good it fucking hurts. He cries out, wordlessly, grasping for something to hold on to.

“Holy shit, dude,” Tommy breathes, pulling back, pulling away, what the fuck, no—

“Hng,” Billy grunts, his hands waving uselessly, trying to reach Tommy to put him back where he was. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, a little breathless, a lot delighted. “Just…” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Billy’s underwear and starts tugging them off. “You’re so loud, man.”

The part of his brain that’s still working—the part that isn’t floating on a cloud of horny thoughts, mostly about how fucking pornographic Tommy’s mouth looks right now, pink, flushed, and slick from nose to chin—is smart enough to know that if he’s too loud they might get caught. But he’s having a hard time making himself care. And he’s sure he’ll care even less when Tommy puts his lips back where they fucking belong.

Then Tommy’s leaning over him, damp grey briefs folded up in one hand, easing Billy’s mouth open with the other.

He’s slow about it. Deliberate. Telegraphing his movements so Billy and the three brain cells he’s got left understand what he’a about to do. Billy could clench his jaw against his prodding at any time. He could turn his head to escape Tommy’s hold. 

But he doesn’t. 

The taste of his own sex isn’t unfamiliar, but it’s oddly thrilling in this context. It feels dirty in the best kind of way. Cotton sticking to his tongue, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth, Tommy’s gaze heavy on his parted lips. Billy wonders if he’s thinking about other things he could stuff Billy’s mouth with to shut him up. 

Biting down on creased fabric is odd, but it definitely muffles his whimpering. 

Which is, admittedly, handy when Tommy dives back in with no warning.

He doesn’t hold back at all, pressing in close, his hands gripping Billy’s hips to keep him in place. His tongue curls around Billy’s cock, over and over in firm swipes.

And Billy sees stars. He can hear his own stifled moaning through the makeshift gag, but he barely recognizes is own voice. Every pitched, breathy noise that comes out of him is a shock he doesn’t have time to linger on, and he doesn’t fucking care to, not when he can barely process how good he feels right now, let alone feel anything but Tommy’s mouth and the heat building under his skin. His whole body is taut with it, muscles tensing as he tries to hold onto the sparks dancing through him. 

It doesn’t take long for him to come with a hoarse shout and an embarrassing gush of wetness all over Tommy’s chin, white-knuckled and curled around Tommy’s sloped shoulders.

He flops back, breathing hard and staring, unseeing, at the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says again, with something resembling awe. 

Billy closes his eyes, trying to measure the rise and fall of his chest. His whole body is tingling. And a little sore.

He feels a little tug, Tommy picking at the briefs stuffed into his mouth. He loosens his jaw and lets him remove them. There’s spit trickling down his cheek. Tommy wipes it up, carefully patting the side of his face. 

“You good?”

“Mhm,” Billy hums.

“...Been a while?”

He cracks an eye open and glances over at Tommy. His eyebrows are near his hairline, but it doesn’t look judgemental. A little amused, maybe. Billy sighs. “You could say that.”

“Oh?”

It’s been thirteen months since anyone’s touched him below the belt. He doesn’t remember who it was, but he remembers tequila and lime, hearing shitty dance music in another room while he let someone stick their hand in his pants, half-expecting it to retreat immediately. 

No one’s ever touched him like this, though. 

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, unsure how to respond. He lands on, “Never been blown before.” 

Tommy blinks at him. “No shit?” His hand makes a weird aborted movement, then lands on the carpet next to him. Billy has the weird urge to hold it. Or to be held, maybe. As the sweat on his skin cools he starts to itch, an unfamiliar ache blooming in his chest.

“No shit,” he echoes.

“That’s…” Tommy scratches his eyebrow. “Kinda hot actually. I popped your cherry.”

“I’ve had sex.”

“Yeah, but not that kind.”

“...Whatever,” Billy mutters, his cheeks flushing.

“I’m serious, dude.” Tommy’s smiling now, his lips still shiny and pink and distracting. “That was, uh. Kind of awesome. All of it. Plus the cherry on top.”

He can’t help but snort, and smacks Tommy’s knee. “Fuck you, Hagan.”

“Maybe next time.”

That catches Billy’s attention. Whether it’s the promise of a next time or the thought of fucking him, he doesn’t know, but either way he’s suddenly unable to look anywhere but at Tommy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tommy lifts his chin a little, like a challenge, but his eyes are warm. “You said you weren’t goin’ anywhere, so…”

“I meant it.”

He’s caught off guard by the almost bashful way Tommy ducks his head suddenly, the tips of his ears going red, hiding a widening smile. “Good.” He shuffles a little closer. “Though I get why you’d stick around. Y’know. After I rocked your world.”

Billy groans, and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Nah, nah, I wanna hear you say it.”

“No.”

“Come ooon.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And good with my tongue.”

“Jesus Christ,” Billy mutters, “Okay, fine, you rocked my world. Congrats.”

Tommy preens, supremely pleased with himself, and pokes Billy’s shoulder. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Billy tries his hardest to look annoyed at the prodding, but fails to do anything but grin at the ceiling.

“Now, I seem to remember you promising to put some work in, and so far you’ve just been layin’ there.” The smug look on his face is absolutely out of control. Billy swats at him, but Tommy just catches his hand and kisses his palm, grinning like a fucking maniac. “Gotta do better than that, Hargrove.”

Billy tackles him, rolls them over, and pins Tommy’s hands above his head. 

And he puts some work in.

[touyaz]

When I say food as a language of love, I'm thinking about how Katsuki breaks bread in half and doesn't even stop to think before sliding over the plate with all the tiny crumbs and the bigger portion to you. I think about how Eijirou watches you peel oranges with gentle precision (he always ends up squeezing it a little and the juices squirt out on him), and once you're done he'll take the fruit from you, feeding you one slice and then himself the next. And how Keigo watches you take a bite out of a burger and, when you offer it to him too, instead of eating from the untouched side, he takes another bite out of where you just ate from. And Touya opens his mouth whenever you're eating sweets and come across a flavour you don't like, letting you drop the chewed-up treat right on his tongue (even if he hates the taste, too). Shouto will wipe away the smallest traces of sauce that stick to the corner of your mouth, and he'll lick it off his thumb without thinking twice. Tomura insists on feeding you first, no matter the occasion. Even if you've already eaten, he can't start his meal until you've taken a bite out of his food first. Izuku always carries your favourite snack on his person; even if he won't see you that day, making sure he's got something saved for you (just in case!) is part of his morning routine. Denki isn't a fan of vegetables, but when he sees you push them around and leave them until the end, he'll scoop them onto his plate and give you some of his other food instead.

minors, ageless & blank blogs do not follow me. you will be blocked.