#mopin

[vamosgk]

✨Vamos ahí

✨Posca Mop

✨PCM22

Buena punta y la clásica

pintura Posca mate de

calidad…va muy bien

🔥✨🤝

#hanem #bamos

#vamos

#gipsykings

#graffiti

#tag #squeezer

#lettering #letters

#mop #mopinposca

#poscapcm22

#poscagraffiti

#poscaart

#tip

#dot

#satysfying

#reels

#halloween

#slowlife

🎃

[magicalshopping]

♡ Ghost In A Jar Pin by Mo Pins ♡

[albatris]

chhhhhrronic fattiggggueeeee

[catchitori]

“Stop mopin.”

God I love tma and uh daisy has my heart and this is the rough sketch for this animatic pls love me Ty

[coffincave]

i wonder how thick my hair would be if i didn’t mindlessly rip it out when i’m stressed

[crowsent]

so i went on an isekai binge a while back and now. now im thinkin of goin on a sports anime binge. startin w knb

[mlmxreader]

Insecurity | Billy Butcher x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ probably a lil ooc, but i was wondering where reader is insecure about their body and Billy makes them feel better and hes like idk rly soft? it doesnt have to be smut, but idm if it is, thats up to u.

if you dont want to write this then maybe number 9. "Getting into a fight because someone insulted them"

6. "I got you, you're okay"

1. "The first time you said you loved me - that was my best day" - @loganbcrnes ❞

: ̗̀➛ Billy immediately picks up on it when you're not feeling your best, and in his own way, he tries to make you feel better.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing (obvioisly), use of the word "fag" as a slang term, mentions of smoking, sex references, insecurity

↳ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Billy eyed you carefully from his place at the desk, hunched over slightly as he kept his dark brown eyes on you; hardly able to ignore the way you tried to make yourself blend into your surroundings, and how you always quickly looked away when you caught your reflection on your phone screen. He wasn't an idiot.

He knew what was going on, just as he knew why you had been distant from him lately, too. Usually, you would sit next to him with your feet on his thighs, relaxed and taking up as much space as possible. Not today.

No. Instead, you were trying to make yourself invisible, and he knew what was going on; but Billy was far from the most courteous of men, and when everyone else left the two of you behind, he cleared his throat, and dared to smile a little.

"Oi!" He practically shouted. "C'mere."

"Billy, don't," you sighed, shaking your head.

Billy clenched his jaw a little bit. "C'mere, please. I got a bone t'pick with you."

You rolled your eyes, all but marching over to him; your hands stuffed into the pockets of your oversized hoodie. Gaze on the ground. "What?"

"Y'know," he hummed, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk. "The day I saw you, that were the day I fuckin' well realised the moon ain't the most breathtakin' thing."

"Seriously?" You deadpanned.

"Yeah, seriously," he nodded. "Every fuckin' day I look at you, I don't fuckin' get it. How a cunt like me managed to pull someone as fit as you... bloody well beyond me."

You were about to move away, brush him off and ignore his words completely, when he gently coaxed you to stand between his legs; forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"Billy-"

"Shut up and listen, alright?" He huffed. "You can fuckin' sit in your corner fuckin' mopin' about like some crybaby cunt all you like - I don't give a toss. But if you asked me? I'd say you was fuckin' peng. And I'd mean it. I fuckin' well would."

"It's not my looks..." you muttered. "I really... Billy, I don't wanna talk about it, alright? There's people with nicer, better bodies than me and-"

"Yeah, but that's your body, innit?" Billy shrugged, almost grinning. "And 'cause it's your body, I happ'n to think it's better than any other cunt's body."

You scoffed at him, shaking your head. "You're only saying that-"

"'Cause what?" He quirked a brow. "There ain't no one here but you an' me, so it ain't like I'm tryin' to fuckin' play with you. It's just us, and I'm sat here, tellin' you: I like your body."

"Billy-"

He tapped your thigh gently. "I like how these rest on me lap when you sit next to me on the sofa."

You rolled your eyes.

He gently tapped your stomach. "I like how soft this is, and how I gets to put me hand on it when we sleep."

You glared at him.

Softly, he tapped your chest. "I like how this presses up against me back in the mornin' when you sneak out for your mornin' fag an' come back."

"How'd you-"

He gently traced his fingers from your shoulders to your elbows. "I like how these feel around me when we're snuggled up watchin' shit horror films."

He grabbed your wrists, grinning. "And most of all, I fuckin' love how these feel wrapped around-"

"You're disgusting!" You laughed, snatching your hands back and fondly shaking your head. "Vile!"

"There's that award winnin' smile," he grinned, letting you go. "Y'know, you don't need the fuckin' perfect body. The one you got is the one that's alright."

"Thanks..." you mumbled, daring to gently pat his cheek. "I know you're trying..."

"I got you," Billy said, as softly as he could allow himself to. "I got you, you're okay. I ain't goin' nowhere yet... unless you and M.M's gonna watch that shit again, that fuckin', what is it? Downton? You watch that and I'm buggerin' off down pub."

You nodded, taking in a deep breath as you smiled. "You are the loveliest bastard I've never met, you know that, don't you?"

He shrugged, sitting back down and putting his feet on the desk again; his hands folded in his lap as he grinned at you. "Yeah, but you fuckin' love me."

"Unfortunately," you hummed, sitting on his desk with your arms folded. "Y'know... some days... just some, I think about what my best day was, and I know."

"Hmm?"

"The first time you said you loved me - that was my best day," you said quietly, picking at the loose skin at the side of your thumb nail.

Billy took a moment, observing you carefully. "Pretty sure that was my best fuckin' day, in all. Can't lie... but, say - why don't me an' you grab a quick Chinese? The others ain't gonna be back for yonks, so we can sit down, have a nice Chinese, and watch that fuckin' Take Me Out bollocks you like, eh?"

You grinned as you nodded, clearing your throat. "That's the best idea you've had in a while, y'know... d'you reckon we could order in?"

"Don't see why not," Billy admitted. "Ain't like Homelander's gonna disguise himself as a lowly fuckin' delivery bloke now, issit?"

"True," you agreed with a slow nod.

"G'on," he told you quietly, gesturing with a quick nod. "Go grab the leaflet, we'll see what's good - and it's whatever you want in all. Starters, puddin', whole lot - anythin' you want, order it."

"Alright, Sir," you teased. "No need to bark orders at me."

"Can do a lot more than that," Billy smiled, raising his brows. "All you gotta do is fuckin' ask."

You hopped off of his desk, feeling your stomach rumble loudly. "I might take you up on that later, but... Bill?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks," you told him quietly. "I, erm... I needed all that, and I appreciate it."

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

thank you so much for reading, but if I may have your attention for a brief moment: Fadi needs help to evacuate himself & his family from Gaza as urgently as possible. if you DO have the means to, then please, consider even giving just £1, it would make all the difference to a family in dire circumstances.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was reorganizing the gear in his pack when he heard you come in. "Y/N?" he called out.

The response was your approaching soft foot steps and then you appeared in the doorway. He looked up, expecting you to give him the same smile you always did, but instead you crossed the room toward him and flopped face down on the bed with a huff.

His brow furrowed. "Uh oh... well, this ain't good." He set his pack down on the floor and sank down beside you. "What's the matter? I gotta kill somebody?" he asked.

You sighed and lifted your head to look over at him. "It's not even noon and I'm already completely over this day."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully, taking in the pout on your lips. "S'goin' on?"

You rubbed a hand over your face. "Bugs."

"Bugs?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Bugs," you said again, pushing yourself up on the palm of your hand. "Well—bugs and slugs, which are technically a mollusk."

"Uhh... the garden?" he guessed.

"Yes," you said, dramatically throwing yourself down on the bed again. "The slugs are going after my squash plants and all the greens have leaf miners."

"Hey—you'll figure out how to get rid of 'em! You've got that green thumb of yours," Daryl said reassuringly.

You let out a groan into the mattress which brought a gruff laugh out of him. "C'mon... it ain't so bad," he said, starting to scoop you up so he could see your face again. "I dun gotta kill anybody," he said. "Thought I was gonna have to with the way ya came mopin' in here."

"No, you don't have to kill anybody. I have to figure out how to kill thousands of tiny little demon bugs."

Daryl laughed again and it lightened your mood instantly. "S'gonna be fine," he soothed you, still smiling.

"Easy for you to say!"

"Yeah. It is. But s'also true." He buried his face against the crook of your neck and pressed his lips to the soft spot below your ear. You bit your bottom lip and leaned into him.

"Mmm," you hummed. "I'm starting to believe you..."

Daryl smiled against your skin. "Just startin'?"

"Yep. You better keep going..."

"Remember, you asked for it." Prompt: "It's not even noon and I'm already completely over this day."

[slashers-and-rats]

Another Texan Night

thomas hewitt x fem!reader | sfw | no dreams this time, baby

rat chat: i saw a lot of people wanted me to give thomas a break, and they were right. he deserves some good stuff. so here it is. grade a fluff for my big boy.

the world was in thomas’s hands. it weighed heavy on his palms; he nearly had to cup them to keep it from all slipping away. he couldn’t let it get away from him this time. he saw the earth, mother nature, the sway of the trees and the rolling of waves all bundled in his arms. he wouldn’t let it get away, not this time.

you’d never leave him again.

your heart beat created a steady rhythm against his own chest. he wondered if, with enough determination, he could align both of your pulses. he’d stop his heart for you. he’d pinch his veins until they were flowing at the same speed yours did. anything to be closer to you, to be connected to you as deeply as he possibly could.

this was all so overwhelming for him. he had to keep remembering to breathe. thomas wasn’t supposed to be out right now, and this time it wasn’t a dream. he couldn’t just shake off the guilt of wanting to leave, this time it was real.

it was technically hoyt’s idea to get him out of the house. the plan had been somewhat sloppily put together. he remembered when it had first been pitched to him.

hoyt had been spying on thomas as he laboured in the basement. he had noticed his nephew under the weather, but the guy didn’t speak much, what could he really do? he had tried to cheer him up, in his own way. he complimented thomas for his quick work of taking down “prey”, and slid thomas a chocolate bar he had smuggled from the gas station when luda mae wasn’t looking. he even offered thomas a beer, chuckling when he groaned in rejection, shaking his head dramatically. his nephew could be such a prude.

hoyt watched thomas closely, seeing him slam the butcher’s knife down with uneven rhythm. it was almost uncomfortable how out of it the man was. thomas wasn’t an energetic boy, he didn’t exactly burst with enthusiasm, but he was always good with his hands. he was coordinated in his practice, and didn’t like to mess up when handling their hunts. after all, if the meat was bad, what would luda mae use to make her best stews and steaks?

it was when tommy slammed the knife down one last time, wedging it deep into the wood of the table, that hoyt really jumped. the guy was scary at the end of the day. hoyt might’ve been tough, but his nephew was strong. there was a big difference, and it showed in the way the surface of the cutting board snapped under the weight of his blade.

thomas had huffed, sounding like a frustrated animal. he paced the room, never noticing his uncle looming in the shadows. if he had, he wouldn’t have tugged your photo out of its hiding place. it had been something private to him. he kept it tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt, close to his heart, along with the phone number and address you had given him long ago when he had lost you. every day he wished he could find you again, that he had the bravery to sneak away and visit you like he wanted to, like he dreamed of.

the paper was worn from his fingers rubbing over it, and your picture was kept as pristine as possible. it was one he had stolen from the slaughterhouse. there had been a wall in the break room of photos of workers, headshots and such, and he had snatched yours away. he liked the way you smiled. it made his head feel light.

he was staring at it for quite awhile, too long for hoyt’s liking, and the man finally walked up and slapped a hand down on his nephew’s shoulder. tommy nearly jumped out of his boots, spinning around and hiding his treasures tight to his chest.

“a girl, huh? that’s what you’ve been mopin’ about?” hoyt questioned, sounding somewhat unimpressed. of all the things for someone like thomas to be worried about, some woman was one of them. it didn’t make sense to him, but there was something about how in despair his nephew looked- “you know where she lives?”

that had been the start to this whole endeavour. it took a few nights for it to all get planned out. thomas would meet with his uncle in the dining room, and hoyt would map out their plan of escape. it was simple. they’d arrange a rendezvous, and sneak out into the night when no one was awake to even see them gone. hoyt had called ahead of time, trying his best to sound proper and respectable when he explained the situation.

thomas had been so nervous then. he had sat, wringing out his fingers and squeezing the end of his shirt in his hands. hoyt had taken the landline and pulled it as far away from his sister’s room as possible, just to make sure she wouldn’t hear. hoyt may have been her brother, but that woman was terrifying, and her house was run by her rules. tommy wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with strangers, especially women, and something about this whole thing made the stakes feel high. they were playing a dangerous game. but they were both determined, albeit for different reasons. hoyt needed his nephew’s head back down to earth, and tommy… well, you could say tommy wanted the same. after all, you were his world. he wanted you back near him so badly.

when you had answered the phone, hoyt had flashed a thumbs up to tommy. it made the man jump a little, he could barely contain his excitement. there was also an advancing sense of anxiety. what if you didn’t remember him? what if you didn’t like him like he thought you did? what if-

“hey, uh, I’m just callin’ on behalf of a guy named thomas hewitt. you don’t happen to remember that name, do ya?” hoyt had paused, and it made thomas hold his breath. when his uncle smiled, a wave of relief washed over him. he gave his nephew a wink, and continued. “oh, good, good. well, you know him, ain’t much of a talker, so he got me to be the messenger. actually, he wanted to ask you somethin’. i know it’s a little late in the night, but he was wonderin’ if you’d wanna see him? he don’t usually got days off, poor guys workin’ himself to the bone, but he had some time and-“ hoyt was cut off, and thomas could hear your muffled babbling on the other end of the phone. he hadn’t even noticed he had been sweating until a bead ran down and landed on his hands. “not tonight, eh? yeah, it’s a bit short notice- what about tomorrow than? how’s that work?” hoyt listened carefully, before giving thomas another reassuring smirk. he nodded along to whatever you were saying, before finally replying with a sense of finality. “perfect! he’ll be there this time tomorrow. see you then. okay, bye bye.”

hoyt hung up, and let out a harsh huff after. thomas felt like he had just been given wings. his heart was pounding hard in his chest, threatening to rip out and do a little irish jig on the floor. he felt like had just been handed his own personally tailored miracle. it was hard to even fathom. he was pulled back down to earth when hoyt had said, “don’t say i don’t do nothin’ for you.”

with that, the pieces had fallen into place with ease. the next day, after waiting an hour to make sure luda mae was dead asleep, tommy and hoyt piled into the truck and made their way to your home. they weaved down the dirt trails slowly and quietly, keeping the headlights off just in case, and the second they were far enough away hoyt began pumping gas. this couldn’t be a long trip, they didn’t have much time. tommy’s mama was an early riser, and if she noticed her boy wasn’t there, there would be hell to pay. no, they had to be quick, methodical.

hoyt pulled up a block away from your place. the two had agreed it was better to make it seem like thomas had come alone. after all, two brooding men showing up on your doorstep in the dead of night wasn’t exactly the best start to a romance.

hoyt had turned to thomas, eyeing him over and trying to tidy him up the best he could. “you look like a mess, but there ain’t much you can do about it…” he had muttered, tussling up his nephew’s hair. he straightened out tommy’s shirt collar, brushed off any flecks of dirt that may have gathered.

tommy had chosen a special outfit. luda mae had shown him old romance movies when he was younger, and he had learned that a well-dressed man could get any woman. he wanted you, though, and so he had made sure he was wearing something he thought you’d like. his button-up was a bit tight, and his pants rested just underneath his tummy, and his shoes still had some blood on them from his work- but he had tried. he had tried so hard.

he had hopped out of the truck into the open night air, breathing it in deep. it ran through his lungs, and with it a feeling he had never experienced before. sure, he had been nervous before- nervous when he was younger and would see his bullies running his way, nervous when he worked at the factory and would see the other workers eyeing him up like a freak-show display- but this was so much different. the closer he walked to your house, the more it wrapped around his throat and made him lose all air. he felt almost small, vulnerable, things he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

he counted the houses carefully, repeating your address over and over in his mind until he spotted the numbers over the door of a quaint cottage-style home. it was small, you had clearly been affected just as his family had by the depression that swept through the town, but it seemed you weren’t doing too bad. he could see the light on in the living room, and your shadow dancing along the curtains as you went about your nightly routine. he walked up slow, prolonging this meeting he had waited so long for. he wished he was back in his dreams, maybe he’d have more confidence if he knew he could just wake up from this if it went poorly.

thomas stood in front of your door for a few minutes before he dared knock. he listened with bated breath as you walked over, and unlocked the door. when it opened, and he saw you… well, he just about fainted.

you had been wearing a soft night gown. it was nothing scandalous, it went down just above your knees, but the way it hugged your body… you looked so soft. you had a house coat on as well, wrapped around your arms and crossed over your stomach. you had it hugged close to you when you answered, and he watched it fall away in slow motion when you opened your arms and pulled him in for an embrace. he had managed to catch the way it fell off your shoulders, and revealed a wide expanse of skin that started at your neck and ran down to the tops of your chest. the spaghetti straps of the gown were loose, letting the front of your shirt hang low over your front. he traced over every detail of your skin, right up until you had pulled him down into a tight hug.

that’s where he was. he remembered now. you were hugging him, and he was squeezing you back just as tight. the gesture had been so sudden, it made him feel as if he had been shot. it knocked the wind out of him, and he wondered if he had made any sound. he couldn’t remember, as all he could think about was how close you were to him.

you felt right in his arms. there was something so good about having you close, and sharing in that sweet body heat that radiated off of your skin. you had always been so warm, inside and out. he wished he could never let go.

“i missed you.” the words were spoken soft into his shoulder. they planted themselves deep into his rib cage, right next to his heart. they seared into his skin.

you pulled away from the hug, but didn’t go far. if tommy was fully coherent, and not in some love filled haze, he would’ve noticed that he had been gripping your hips, keeping you from leaving him fully. it was so instinctual for him. you never brought it up either.

“i was worried i wouldn’t see you again. you never rang me, and i realized… well, you didn’t talk at the slaughterhouse, why would it change over the phone?” you smiled. it was a genuine smile, and he matched it under the mask. he wanted to run his fingers over your lips and trace out every pull of muscle. “that guy who called me seems pretty nice, by the way. you’ll have to thank him for bringing you back to me,” you added, giggling a little.

that sound felt like someone blowing bubbles against tommy’s face. it felt so light. if he could find the words, he would’ve told you he loved you the second he heard it. it would’ve been sudden and out of place, and he would’ve been embarrassed the second he realized what he said, but he would’ve. he wouldn’t have been over-exaggerating either.

“it’s late, and i can’t hang out with you for long but… why don’t you come in? i put tea on, and i got some treats put away for special occasions. i think this justifies taking them out. i got my big guy back.”

“your big guy”. thomas nearly crumbled. he nodded enthusiastically, and let his hands drop down to fiddle with the front of his shirt. you took one of them in yours. his was so much bigger. you weren’t a small girl, you were plump and soft and carried yourself well, but he still lumbered over you. thomas was just big. he was a big guy. your big guy. oh, that would never get old, he just knew it.

you lead him into the house, and he felt as though he was stepping into the gates of heaven.

to say you were his world was underselling it. you weren’t that.

you were his paradise.

[runningfrom2am]

one day (w.h.b)

summary: you and billy talk about what happens when you die.

pairing: william h. bonney (billy the kid) x fem!reader

wc: 3k

tags/warnings: non-descript and brief mention of implied suicide (nothing graphic i swear), other than that its pretty chill honestly, kinda sad but also happy at the end but mostly fluff and honestly pretty cute.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them! i do love to answer little things and hc's about my fics tho so if you want to talk ab this pls also drop it in the box!)

nav / billy the kid masterlist

a/n: credit to @goosita for getting my mind reeling on the concept of ghost!billy! this has been living in my mind and in my drafts for months omg

The hoofbeats of your horse underneath you set the pace for the steady rock of your hips as you make your way across the countryside on an unmarked trail Billy had memorized. One town to the next, just like always. On the run from something new that didn't really matter much to you as long as he was still by your side.

"Your name is pickin' up a lot of attention these days." You comment mindlessly, disrupting the peace of the night.

Billy makes a small sound of acknowledgment, clearly not pleased by that fact but unwilling to deny its truth.

"You know, I don't know what I'd do without ya." You add after a moments quiet, filled only by the crickets and steady slow hoofbeats beneath you. "If they got what they wanted, I mean."

"I dunno." Billy shrugs, voice slightly grim. He didn't even want to think about it; not for the sake of his own death, but god, whatever would end up happening to you.

"I'd follow you, I think." You say quietly, looking up at the stars.

He quickly shakes his head, expression tightening further. "Don't say that."

"You may not like it but it's true." You argue gently. "I ain't got much else to do here. What would I do, wander the west like now but all alone, sad and mopin' and waiting on the day death comes for me so I can see you again? I think I'll pass."

"Well there's not much use in you wandering around mopin', you gotta... I don't know, go out for trail rides, find some good friends. Hell, maybe settle down and get married." He suggests with a slight laugh.

You look over at him, raising an eyebrow with a slightly smug smile. "We both know that ain't ever gonna happen. So you see what I mean, then. I just decided to... skip the mopin' part."

Billy gives you a deadpan look, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Oh, so you're just takin' the efficiency route, is that it?" he quips, his tone laced with annoyance. "No more mopin', straight to the grave with ya."

"Yes." You nod, and after a moment a small smile pulls at your lips. He was upset, of course he would be, but you know he won't stay mad at you for long. "You know, it would be real romantic, I think. Sharin' a grave. We could just be cuddled up forever; I can't think of anything better. Of a better way to go. Can you?"

"I can think of somethin' better," Billy mutters in response, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not havin' to share a grave until we're both old and grey, and dyin' peacefully in our sleep. That'd be a hell of a lot better, darlin'."

"It would." You agree, smiling over at him. "And when the time comes I'll rest easy. But, ah... the life we live..." You shake your head slightly, looking down at the worn leather of the saddle under your thighs that has served you well for most of your life.

"You're somethin' else, you know that?" he says, his tone affectionately exasperated. "You had this whole... plan all figured out, and you were just gonna go with it without even complainin'? Not a care in the world, just ready to join me in a premature grave."

"Yeah." You answer softly, smiling as you look over at him in the dim light your eyes have well adjusted to. "I love you, Billy. I'd do anything for you."

Billy's expression softens further, and he gives you a weary smile. "I know you would, darlin'," he says quietly. "And I love you too. More than words can say. I just..." He sighs, shaking his head slightly. "I just don't want you givin' up on your whole life if somethin' happens to me. I ain't worth you sacrificing everything, love."

"If I had anything left to sacrifice, you would absolutely be worth it." You tell him, shaking your head. "But it doesn't matter, because I don't. I've got nothin' except the very thinly veiled hope that maybe one day I might be happy again without you. And that... I don't feel good about those odds."

Billy's heart clenches in his chest, a pang of pain and sympathy filling his chest and his heart in a way that makes him feel stiff all over. "Darlin'... you gotta know that ain't true," he protests, his tone earnest. "You're smart and beautiful and kind. You could have a good life, with or without me. You just gotta-" But he falters, realizing he's not convincing you. His expression falls with a sigh.

"Those are all real nice things to say, and I appreciate it." You tell him genuinely, smiling sadly at him. "But think of it this way, it doesn't matter much now, does it? We got you out of the jailhouse for now, so we hopefully got a long time before death comes for us. And god forbid it does come early, I'll still be a young and pretty ghost, that would be nice, wouldn't it? I dunno what I'm gonna look like when I'm old, but I've had older ladies tell me I'm gonna wish I looked like this forever. If I was a ghost, I could." You say cheerily, trying to make him feel a little better about it.

Billy can't help but chuckle at your response, shaking his head at the audacity. "Only you would look at bein' a ghost as a positive thing, darlin'," he teases, his tone affectionate. "Most folks would find that pretty darn scary, you know. But then again, most folks ain't you."

"Well, I picture that we would look just about the same. Maybe a little pale, like that time we both had the flu last year." You giggle, looking over at him again and ignoring his secondary comment. "But everything else would be pretty much the same. We could read ghost books and dance to ghost music and just be together without fear of losin' each other ever. I think it would be kinda sweet."

"You make bein' dead sound like a walk in the park," he teases. "Like it ain't nothin'. Just floatin' around as spirits, listenin' to ghost music and readin' ghost books. Maybe playin' some ghost cards, even."

"Ghost cards!" You grin, pleased that he was going along with it. "You think the ghost cards are transparent like we would be? Would make it kinda hard to play poker."

Billy can't help but smirk at your enthusiasm, amused by your excitement. "I don't know, darlin'," he says, playing along. "Maybe ghost cards are made of some special ghost material that ain't see-through, but still lets us float right through 'em. Or maybe we just play ghost poker blindfolded, make things a bit more interesting."

You laugh at that, shaking your head. "Billy, if the cards are ghost cards we wouldn't go through 'em. We would only go through things on this side. Walls, living people, that kinda thing. I think ghost stuff we'd still be able to touch like normal."

"Right, right," he says, playfully rolling his eyes. "I keep forgettin' you're the expert on ghost things, darlin'. I'm just a livin' person, what do I know? But hey, if we can touch ghost stuff, that means we could probably hold hands. And I gotta say, bein' able to hold your hand as a ghost sounds mighty nice."

"Of course we could hold hands," You say, smiling as you glance his way again. "Just like now, I'd hardly ever stop."

Billy grins, reaching out to take your hand in his across the gap between your horses, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'd be holdin' your hand all the damn time, darlin'," he says, his tone playful. "Ain't no way I could go more than five minutes without holdin' onto you. You'd have to pull me off of ya."

"Maybe, but I never would." You shrug, feeling fuzzy inside from the feeling of his warm hand around yours. You had to slightly lean his way to reach him while you rode side by side, but you didn't mind. Just like always.

"That's good, darlin'," he says, his tone soft and affectionate. "Cause I'd never want you to let go. We'll hold hands for eternity, you and me. Ain't nothin' better than bein' close to you, love."

"Forever." You agree with a small smile. "And in a hundred years, people will come to our grave talkin' about the infamous Billy the Kid and his girl whose name was lost to time- and if you go behind the old saloon at night you'll see 'em still holdin' hands, hear 'em laugh. On a good day, maybe they'll even kiss." You giggle through a whisper, lightly swinging your joined hands.

Billy chuckles, a broad smile spreading across his face at your description.

"Oh, I like the sound of that, darlin'," he says, his tone light and almost excited. "People comin' to visit our grave and talkin' about us in hushed whispers. Seein' our ghost hands holdin' each other, hearin' our faint laughter. Maybe some young lovers will come to the grave and kiss, thinkin' it brings them good luck. Ain't that romantic?"

You let out another soft sigh, nodding in agreement. "And we can watch with ghost popcorn and place bets on whether or not they'll last."

Billy laughs at your suggestion, his eyes lighting up with amusement.

"Ghost popcorn and bettin' on lovers' fates? Darlin', you've got all the best ideas," he says, grinning. "That sounds like a pretty good way to spend eternity if you ask me. Cheerin' on the young 'uns and seein' if they make it or not. And I'll be bettin' on them to make it, every time. I'm a bit of a romantic at heart, after all."

Your smile shifts into a small happy pout. "That's sweet, baby." You say softly. "But I'll be lookin' out for red flags on 'em. And if he gives me any kind of strange feelin', I'm gonna whisper in her ear to run. And then, that'll be part of it. "Billy's unknown girl sure knows how to pick 'em right," they'd say."

"Well, we'll make an excellent ghost power couple, then," he teases. "You pickin' out the bad ones and me rootin' for the good ones. We'll be like matchmakers from beyond the grave. And I gotta say, the thought of people talkin' about 'Billy's unknown girl' and her ability to pick 'em right is definitely somethin' I can live - or rather, die - with."

You nod happily. "May take a while for people to trust me, but kids'll catch on quick." You say with a shrug. "Some young girl will be talkin' to her friend about her new boyfriend who she's not just sure about, and her friend will tell her to bring him to our grave. Because her cousin came to us for a kiss of good luck, and she swears up and down that she heard a girl whisper in her ear tellin' her to run from him and she didn't. Then she found out he'd been cheatin' with the preacher's daughter the whole time. I can see it now."

"You've got it all figured out, baby," he says. "Word'll spread soon enough, that our grave is the place to come for relationship advice. And once people hear about you whisperin' in girls' ears, they'll be beggin' to come visit us. Maybe they'll even start leavin' offerings for us, like we're the ghost gods of love and romance."

"Yeah. Flowers for me and bullets for you." You grin, very pleased with this story you've spun up for yourselves.

Billy grins back at you, amused by your suggestion. He looks ahead again, feeling the weight of the reins in his free hand as he looks at the long and endless path ahead. It feels almost lighter than what he's used to.

"Sounds perfect to me, darlin'," he says, chuckling. "I'm sure our grave will be the prettiest in the cemetery. You'll have flowers galore, and I'll have bullets stacked up like a fortress around me. A fitting tribute for the outlaw and his love, don't you think?"

"I think so." You smile, giggling as you think about him sitting on some kind of ghost throne made of bullet boxes. The idea of him having some kind of legacy left in a way people would want to honour instead of condemn makes you happier than just about anything else could. He was a good man, and no one these days knew that.

"I doubt anyone will know much about me, but... I'm not sure I mind." You say after a moment.

Billy shakes his head, his expression fond. "Darlin', trust me, people will know all about you," he says firmly. "They'll know you were the gal who loved the infamous Billy the Kid, who wasn't afraid to risk herself by sneakin' into a jail at night for him. They'll know you were the gal with fire in your eyes and a sharp wit. The gal who saw the world through different eyes, and wasn't afraid to speak her mind. People ain't ever gonna forget you, love."

You smile a little bit, nodding as you look back at the trail ahead. "I hope they bring my sunflowers." You say softly, rocking steadily with the movement of my horse. "Or drawings of horses. I wanna see these girls' horses in exchange for savin' them the trouble of a cheating man." You giggle. "And I hope they think I was pretty. I think that'd be pretty sweet."

Billy's smile grows and he slightly shakes his head. If anything of your memory could last, to him, it would be your beauty. Your absolutely enchanting gaze, the way your hair seemed to shine in the sun, and that smile that could brighten even the darkest of nights. No one knew him quite like you, but any man would be a fool to not see how lovely you were.

"Oh, darlin', I've no doubt they'll bring sunflowers and pictures of horses," he says. "And they'll think you were the prettiest girl who ever walked the earth. They won't even need to have seen a picture of you to know it, they'll just know from the love and loyalty you had for me. You're gonna be the stuff of legends, honey. The mystery girl who brought the infamous outlaw to his knees."

You look over at him again, a soft smile on your face. "I sure hope they don't see that literally." I giggle.

Billy chuckles, his expression amused at the subtle implication. "Oh darlin', I could think of worse things to be remembered for," he says playfully. "Maybe they'll even start a tradition of young girls bringin' their boyfriends to our grave and havin' them kneel down in front of you. Like they'll be thinkin' you're the goddess of love and loyalty, blessin' their relationships."

"Sure, but then I'd have to turn to ask you if they were doin' it right." You giggle. "If I should give them my blessings or not."

"Well, I reckon I'll have to take on the role of your faithful advisor then," he says with a bright laugh. "I'll be sittin' right by your side, watchin' as they kneel down in front of you. And if any of them don't look serious enough about their girl or if their form is off, I'll be whisperin' in your ear. Tellin' you to make 'em kneel a little longer."

"Nah, you gotta tell that to her- not to me. I can't make 'em do anything, but if he's good for her, she'll be able to make 'im listen." You shrug. "If he's good, if he's anything like you, he'd rather listen to her than to a ghost."

"You make a fair point, darlin'," he says with an amused grin. "I suppose I could whisper into her ear instead. Encouragin' her to stand up for herself and make sure her man's treatin' her right. And if he's anything like me, he'll listen to her and only her. But I still think I'll get a kick out of watchin' those boys kneel at your feet, darlin'. Just seein' a little bit of my influence in the world."

"I dunno if I need other boys kneelin' for me." You say, scrunching up your nose a bit at the thought. "I think I'd rather it be you."

Billy laughs, his eyes gleaming with affection. "Well, darlin', I think I'd prefer you have me on my knees anyway, and only me," he admits, his tone playful. "But the thought that young fellas comin' to our grave and kneelin' in front of you to ask for your blessing, it just makes me feel a little... proud. Like my love for you will keep on goin' even after we're gone. People ain't gonna forget about us, darlin'. They're not gonna forget about you."

You let the quiet sounds of the night overtake you after that, riding along the outskirts of an unfamiliar town by now. You can see the buildings in the distance, squinting a little at the abundance of bright lanterns. You wonder if they're celebrating something, but you're not quite close enough to hear.

"Hey, look at that." You say, gently tugging on his hand before letting go and pointing over toward the lights in the distance. "You ever seen somethin' like that before?"

"No, baby. I haven't." Billy answers, squinting a little as well and leaning forward to see past your shadowed silhouette. "They've sure got some bright lanterns over there. Maybe they're celebratin' somethin'."

"Maybe." You agree quietly, shrugging it off and continuing on.

It's too dark to see well enough, though, and you're both too distracted by the lights of the town as you pass by the Old Fort Sumner cemetery on your other side, careless and ignorant of the grave sight fifty or so feet away. Caged up, covered in bullets and flowers and coins- offerings for the Bandit King and his girl, who died as they lived.

Occasionally, on dark and clear nights like this, the local kids would claim to hear laughter or see the young couple on their horses riding through the country, just outside of town. No one was lucky enough to see the echo of them tonight.

follow my library for notifications when i post something new! @runningfrom2am-library

but i will tag a couple of my favs bc you guys write SO well for billy and i love it and reading all your stuff inspired me to finish this up and actually post it so thank you :')

@milliesfishes @francixoxoxo ily xx

[marchsfreakshow]

It's A Sin [Jimmy Darling]

Angst. Maybe a good ending.

Dandy stole you. That's what Jimmy thinks anyway. You wanted to take a break, and you left the Freakshow for a while. In that time, Dandy wooed you. You didn't come back. Even if you did, Dandy wouldn't let you.

I'm so sorry for this, I just thought of it and thought it would be good to get back into writing for Jimmy<3

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Weeks passed.

Months.

You hadn't come back.

"leave it, Jimmy. Seriously...they would've come back by now." Eve mentioned. But he couldn't. He couldn't just live his life without you to help him and live by his side. Fucking Dandy.

Jimmy sat by the ticket booth, day after day. Not eating, drinking, not even looking back once. Still with a glint of hope in his eyes that you would come back. Back into his arms, and into the Freakshow where you belonged. He held the picture of you in his hands, always. Standing with Elsa and Ma Petite, performing together, smiling the night away. But Dandy just couldn't help himself.

He couldn't stop himself from wooing you with the possibility of a warm meal and a fluffy bed every single night. Being with a man who won't be charmed by other women and was 'normal'. You defended Jimmy at first, saying how he was as normal as you or I. But the baby wasn't having it. He stomped around screaming nothing until he picked you up and threw you in the car. "You're mine now." He seethed. You spat and tugged at the car door. Locked. A shit-eating grin appeared on his face when you realised you couldn't get out.

The drive was silent and awkward. You muttered insults. Dandy ignored. But when you got to the manor, you ran. You ran as far as you could. Away from Dandy.

That's what Jimmy hoped anyway. He hoped you were running. Back towards your home. In reality, you were swooned ever so slightly. You were Dandy's now. Sleeping in a plush, big bed every night with a warm breakfast in bed in the morning. You could live like this forever. Everything you ever wanted, right at your fingertips. Where was your Jimmy in your mind? The last thought in your mind when you fall asleep at night. How he could also be happy like this, but he refuses.

Every single thing about you was missed. It was starting to feel wrong. To love you and miss you so much. Heartache, heartbroken, lost. Desperately waiting and searching for you every morning. Waking up every morning wishing you were still asleep in his arms, missing the way you kissed him so gently, and how Motherly you were with Pepper and Salty. Pepper cried when she realised you were gone. One of the kindest souls, abandoned her, more heartbreak. Jimmy felt guilty for you. He couldn't look them in the eyes anymore. The man spent hours staring at your photos, missing your pretty laugh more day after day.

"I miss them so badly..."

"I know Jimmy. I know. But there's no point sittin' and mopin' around in front of the tent all day. Come eat."

"go away Ma.."

He couldn't bear to look his mother in the eyes. He was betraying everyone, but he wanted nothing more than to see you running towards him on the road, jumping into his safe, protective arms once again, and being back home. She sighed, and just turned away, walking back into the Freakshow tent.

Time passed.

A cold October night.

No one around here, no one there.

Breaths, and slowing down footsteps. A lit-up sign in front of their eyes. 1am. No one behind them, to the right, left or in front of. No car following them quietly. Opening the curtains, they walked in. Radio silence. It felt like they had to walk on air. Everything was the way it was when they left. When they walked out of the door, and out of the freaks' lives. You heard your beloved nickname. "Schön..?" Elsa asked quietly, standing in shock. Whether it was happy or angry shock you didn't know until she rushed to you, a grip around your tired body pulling you up. "Mein gott.. schieße.." German mutters and swears.

"I never shoulda left Elsa. Darl', I'm so sorry.." you whispered into her shoulder, knowing to hold in your tears. Both of you spoke for what felt like hours, and now you were standing by the stage, waiting for Elsa to signal you.

"seriously Elsa? This has to happen now?" You missed his voice. You felt like putty already, but you silently coughed and stood up straight.

"Yes! It cannot wait any longer." Jimmy tiredly chuckled. Oh, how you could be a puddle right now, entranced by him just like you were when you were first introduced to him. Lights cut, you stepped onto the stage with shaky legs and hands, facing the wall. The sudden awareness of lights made. You take a deep, incredibly shaky breath. Jimmy recognised you instantly. He stood up, anger, confusion, and love filling his brain. And in a second, you spun on your heel. Eyes meeting eyes. Seeing the sadness in Jimmy's look made you want to fade into the wall and never address him ever again. He muttered your name as the urge to fall to your knees grew.

"Jimmy.." you muttered back, half smiling. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You were almost cut off as Jimmy jumped to meet you on the stage, holding your hands tightly.

"Why? Why Dandy? Of all fuckin' people?"

"Because I was selfish." You looked away at the ground, feeling too guilty to ever look in his eyes again. "I was fucking selfish and lacked judgement. This is home." A hug was the last thing you expected as a response, but Jimmy held you tight, what you had craved for the last two months. He sobbed into your shoulder, and everything hit you like a freight truck. Hearing the one you loved to cry, realising how badly you fucked up. It made you burst, gripping the loose fabric on his back.

"Jimmy Darling, darling, I never shoulda left you. I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"My pretty sweetheart.." he muttered, holding your face, both your eyes and his, glassy. And a kiss. One like never before. Desperate hands around his neck, your back, weak knees, small giggles and smiles. Being held by the one who gave you the world despite everything. This felt right.

"I'm so glad Elsa woke me up." He chuckled, resting his forehead on yours.

"I'm glad I came back."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tagging: @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @slvt4jamesmarch

[magicalshopping]

♡ Halloween Spiders Enamel Pin by Mo Pins ♡

[angelicpoison12]

broken bottles = broken hearts ღ

Husk makes you feel better when you’re heartbroken over coming into Hell. So, he lets you pet your troubles away.

MFA, SFW, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

you were good… for the most part. you didn’t see yourself as an awful person. did Heaven truly see you as so bad and malicious that you were now in Hell? well, yes.

— 𖢻 —

you sat at the bar, sad and glum. the hotel wasn’t too bad.. Charlie was a little overbearing sometimes with how positive and optimistic she was, but it was better than someone who was down all the time, right?

well, Husk was certainly someone who was always in a ‘fuck no’ mood.

you sat at the bar, looking around, but Husk was nowhere in sight. you sighed and put your head down, hoping that the day would go by faster. the bar was cool and had a smooth surface, giving you a sense of comfort in this shithole you’d gotten yourself into.

“what can I get ya?”

you squeaked when you heard the deep, smooth voice, nearly falling out of the barstool. Husk’s eyes widened at your fright, and he was quick to say,

“easy kid, easy.. what’s the matter with ya, huh? bad day? i never see ya sitting up here,”

you shrugged and sighed, quietly ordering a glass of water. when you felt the cool glass pushed towards you, you were quick to gulp it down, feeling relief spread through your body. the drink cooled you off and made you feel somewhat better than before.  “so.. you gonna sit there all sad and mopey like a wet dog, or are ya gonna tell me whats goin’ on?”  Husk asked, pouring you more water. a soft, quiet breath left your lips, and you saw his left ear twitch.  

“can i pet you?”  you blurted out, blushing. Husk’s eyes widened, and a soft, confused mrrp sound left him.  “’scuse me?”  he asked, his voice a little higher than usual due to the soft flutter he was getting in his chest. you swallowed and said,  “i’m sorry-it was a stupid thing that came across my mind, i shouldn’t have-”  all Husk did was raise a hand, silencing you. he sighed and shook his head before asking,  “if i let ya pet me... will it stop your mopin’?”  you were quick to nod eagerly. he grumbled a little, his ears going flat as he came closer to you, the bar digging into his fur a little. 

Husk looked at you, one of his large red brows perked up.  “well, what’re you waitin’ for, hm? Go ahead.”  you were timid as you leaned forward, your fingers raised. you brushed them through Husk’s ears. you started from the base of the white fluff on them, then the red, moving up to the innards and where the tips were pointy with hair. 

he hummed quietly, eyes closing as you petted him. soft purrs echoed through the bar, his gruff exterior melting thanks to your gentle touch. you moved your hand down, starting to scratch his fluffy cheeks, feeling his whiskers tickle your fingertips.  “this is so fuckin’ stupid..”  Husk muttered. your eyes widened a little, and you stopped petting him abruptly, thinking he was upset. Husk’s eyes opened and he was quick to say,  “aw, kid. don’t stop, please... i was just talkin’ to myself,”  Husk said. you resumed petting him, his purrs louder now somehow, which made you let out a quiet giggle. 

you couldn’t help but notice the way his tail was swishing back and forth, wrapping around his leg and curling into a heart. you cooed at the sight, finding it adorable as well as interesting.  “don’t get used to this, kid. I ain’t nobody’s pet,”  Husk chuckled, a sense of light-hearted humor behind his tone. you knew Husk was a grump, and he was never one to usually have fun.t yet somehow you’d clawed your way into this kitty’s heart.  

you pulled your hands away from him, finishing your second helping of water.  “thank you for the drink, Husk. I really needed it,”  you said. Husk smiled and nodded at you, rubbing his semi-wet nose against your cheek, still purring.  “not a problem, kid. come back anytime you’d like, alright? this old man gets lonely sometimes,”  Husk said. you sense the sadness in his voice mingling with his unconditional love for you. 

“don’t worry, I'll be back,”  you said confidently, patting his head one last time before you left upstairs to your room. 

sometimes, all you need is a cat to let it all out to. and thank god for Husk being that cat. 

— 𖢻 —

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader 

Explicit, 18+ 

Butterflies & Broken Glass

 Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Moving on isn’t always the easiest and honestly takes a long time. But does it ever get better when old wounds get ripped open? 

Word count: 3k

—

 “So,” your mom starts “Are you ready to talk ‘bout, you know, it?” 

   The sound of her knife hitting the cutting board after slicing through a carrot pierces your ears. You don’t answer her, you continue to peel the batch of potatoes and carrots that sit in this metal strainer under a running tap. She also says nothing and continues to chop the vegetables you pass to her as if you’re on an assembly line. 

   You’re not sure if you are, but you’ve avoided it as long as you could. It’s weird that it feels like years ago and, simultaneously, feels like hours ago. But it’s been three months, going on four next week. The reality of the break up, however, hit you the second week you came home, and it was brutal. 

   And since then, you haven’t been the same. 

   Bella and Kelly have tried everything to help you; consistent phone calls from Kels since she’s still in DC, and Bella coming over whenever she can - which is all the time. But you just can’t shake the utter pain and heartbreak that pours out of your skin, and the only person who can help you through this, is your mom. 

   She’s been through most, if not all, of the hardest and toughest things you’ve been dealt with. She’s your real ride or die bestie. So even though you're not ready to discuss it, evidently you have to - for your own sake. If you’re going to move on with your life, move on from Aaron Hotchner, you have to talk about it. 

   “Not much to talk about, really.” You lie one more time. You’re not sure why you do - you chalk it up to your subconscious mind not being ready to properly handle this or that your mom will drop it. 

   The sound of your moms chopping stops and you hear her sigh. She’s not gonna leave it alone. The cold water flows through your fingers, causing them to go numb and start to sting when there are no vegetables left to rinse. So you know you’re stuck listening to what she has to say, so you figure you might as well just take it. 

   “Well, I’m tired of you sittin’ on your ass ‘n mopin’ around all fuckin’ day for the past few months. That’s not the daughter I raised.” By the loudness of her words you can tell she’s now facing you, but you’re too afraid to turn around. Too embarrassed. Too ashamed of yourself. 

   She barks your name and orders you to turn the water off and look at her, which you do, but not before you grab a sheet of paper towel to dry your stinging hands. You do this very slowly, to the point where you feel like it’s in slow motion. You know she’s not going to do anything but just try to understand where your head is at, and maybe scold you just a bit because of your actions - or lack of, for that matter - but you know she means well and she just wants to make sure her little girl is okay. 

   Looking into her eyes, you break. The bubble in your throat finally bursts. As you lunge forward, your moms arms open and welcome you with love and affection as she wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders. 

   You cry and cry, until no tears are left. 

—

   Your senses are overwhelmed; the smells of plants and people from the park overpower you, the sight of the masses of people panics you just a little, and the sound of music playing in one ear and screams of small children on the playground in the other keeps you alert. Your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest, while your lungs work overtime to keep you going - the cool morning weather making it harder to catch your breath. 

   The white gazebo is now within sight as you jog past the large playground that’s packed with children of all ages with their families. Saturdays during the summer are the busiest days at Richmond park, so you always take that into account when you go on your daily run. 

   But this morning is different. Instead of going to your usual civil court office, like you have for the past eleven years, you’re waiting on an important email from Erin Strauss. The section chief of the BAU in Quantico, the very job you’ve been working so hard for. Your second interview was three days ago and it went pretty well considering how judgmental and difficult Strauss was. 

   You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to get the job because Strauss was picking apart every tiny thing about you; where and how you grew up, what college you attended, what’s so important about joining the BAU, and whether you can hold your own when it comes to a career with something like the FBI. You felt like you were being stabbed with each one of her questions, but you figured that she’s just like that, with a job requiring a brutal sort of honesty.

   Catching your breath, you raise your arms above your head and fold them over so the air can flow freely through your body. Standing on the steps of the gazebo, you step in a small circle to get a bearing on your surroundings, making sure to note anything that seems out of the ordinary. Too many women have been getting assaulted or mugged recently, so you’re always scanning your environment. To add another element of security, you own a black 9mm, which is currently in your car in the parking lot just a few feet away. You have your carry permit, but it doesn’t do much good when you’re in leggings and a sports bra. 

   Your mom was extremely concerned about you living by yourself and forty-five miles away from her, so she and Anthony convinced you to go to the gun range to become familiar. Then, after about four months of that, you decided you felt comfortable and educated enough to own a gun, for your safety. 

   While doing one last spin, you lower your arms and reach for your phone in your side pocket. Your breathing is now steady and regulated, so you can focus more on yourself and your surroundings. 

   Pausing your music and taking out your one earbud, you notice an email from Strauss and you instantly feel proud. You really did it, you really made it to your dream job. It felt almost impossible; after eleven years, you were about to give up hope about this job. But your inner child put up a huge fight against it and ultimately won. There was no way in hell that you would give up on this dream of yours. It was going to happen one way or another. 

   You open the email as you start walking to your car, but before you can read past the names copied in the email, you freeze. 

   Your stomach drops to the cement below your sneakers, your heart rate increases rapidly, and your mind somehow is silent but screaming at the same time. There’s no way this is possible, you never thought this would happen. 

   Hotchner, Aaron

   —

   “You haven’t even seen him since graduation right?” 

   “Kels…yes! I never thought I’d ever see him again, let alone have to work with him, under him even!” 

   “Under him, hehe,” Bella murmurs to herself into her glass of wine as she takes a sip. 

   You glance to your right and she diverts her eyes to her feet, away from your judgy eyes.

   Immediately after you received the email and got back into your car to head back to your house, you called the girls over for a wine and bitch night. Something the three of you started once Kelly ended things with Jason six years ago and moved five minutes away from you and Bella, who lives only four houses apart. 

   Kelly has her own law firm and has done extremely well for herself. However, you do feel bad about how Jason and her ended things. Long story short, she caught him bringing random women back to their home constantly. But what makes it even worse is they have a seven year old daughter. A newborn at the time she kicked him out and never wanted to see him again, Jason hasn’t seen his daughter since then either. 

   You have no idea how Kelly is still able to be this bubbly person, but she is. You and Bella help Kelly whenever she needs it, especially when it comes to her daughter Lilly; babysitting, picking up or dropping off from school, picking up dinner some nights, and anything else. 

   You’ll be damned if anything else happens to Kelly and Lilly, they are least deserving of any treatment like that from Jason. 

   “So, have you replied to her email?” Bella questions as she takes a bite of stringy pizza, wiping the corners of her mouth after. 

   “She told me I didn’t have to. Just to make sure I read it before I go in on Wednesday, which I thought was a weird day to start but what do I know?” 

   “So, like… how are you feelin’ about all this?” Bella chimes in again, but with a tone that lets you know she is trying to be sincere. 

   Your right hand instinctively raises to your necklace and you start to fidget with it … the heart necklace from Aaron. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. You really don’t know how to feel about this, especially when you erased him from your memory almost completely so you could figure out how to move on. 

   After so long, the thought of Aaron became less and less, even though you still wear the one piece of jewelry from him. It’s been the one thing that you haven’t been able to let go of and you haven’t had a reason to understand why, but now it almost seems like this was meant to happen. The universe never wanted you to forget about him, but you also wonder if he’s ever stopped thinking about you. 

   He had to have noticed your name, just like you did his. But what does that mean? You wonder if he had any say in hiring you or if this is all Strauss’s work, because those two things have very different meanings behind them and those two people have very different motives. 

   “Do you think you’ll be okay?” Bella sits up and rests her hand on your bare thigh, shaking you back to reality. 

   You raise your eyes to her and give the best fake smile you can show and lightly nod your head, I’m gonna try. 

—

   You have an excellent first day baby, call me when you’re home. Love you! 

   Standing in the elevator, you read your moms text message with a warm smile. You didn't tell her about Aaron being your boss, that’ll be a deep conversation for later. 

   Thank you, love you mama! 

   The elevator dings, stops and the metal door slides open before a gorgeous, black haired woman walks in, and you both give a slight smile to each other as you move to give her some room. She goes to press the number six, for the BAU, but she notices you already have it pressed. 

   “Oh, you must be the new girl that Hotch was telling everyone about,” she confidently tells you. “Emily Prentiss.” She reaches her hand out, which you confidently take and introduce yourself to her. 

   So he does remember me…what did he tell them? 

   “Welcome to the world of horrible things people are capable of, you’ll come to learn a lot!” She shakes her head slightly, “But it seems like you can stomach it, I mean, you made it into the BAU which is huge in itself.” 

   The same time you chuckle, the metal doors open again and you’re met with a small hallway with glass doors that have the Seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s logo on them. It’s busy with agents walking from one hallway to the other, all on a mission (or at least that’s what it looks like). You can finally release that breath that’s been sitting in your chest since you woke up this morning. 

   “Well, let’s go introduce you to the team,” Emily announces as she slightly nudges your lower back, “I got you, girl, don’t worry.” 

   Turning your body to the side so she can lead the way, you smile, “Thank you.” 

   Now, past the glass doors, you’re met with an open layout office with desks together to make squares. Emily walks past the first couple and heads to the next set, where a group of four gather around one’s desk. Your nerves build just a little bit, but you shove them down for your first impressions. You’re not going to allow Aaron the satisfaction of knowing he’s messing with your head. 

   “Listen up, kids!” Emily announces, catching everyone’s attention but you see how all their eyes move to you and then back to Emily. She steps to the side, almost showcasing you off to them as she tells them your name and that you’re officially joining the team. 

   With your leather brown purse hanging from your shoulder, a large confident smile comes across your face as you wave to them with your right hand, hi guys! 

   “I was just asking J.J when you were coming in, I’m Penelope Garcia!” This vibrant colored blonde reaches her bejeweled wrist out to greet you, which you happily take. 

   “My official first day!” You cheer, “So excited to be a part of your team!” 

   Over the next ten minutes you learn a whole lot about the team. And you overall, love them all already. They’re all just full of character and personality, which you’re always looking for in a work environment.

   J.J, the original liaison turned official Supervisory Special Agent and mom of two healthy boys. Spencer Reid, the impossibly smart guy, you have no clue that anyone could be as smart as him. Derek Morgan, the player and muscle of the team for sure, this man is flirtatious but in a fun way - he’s not rude or arrogant in the slightest. David Rossi, one of the original FBI agents and the old Italian man that reminds you a lot of what your mom described of her grandfather. Penelope Garcia, the technical genius and the brightest and most animated woman you have ever seen. Emily Prentiss, the pure badass and smartass of the team, is almost a mixture of the team all around. 

   Jokes and history are being shared amongst everyone, but there’s a huge elephant in the room. Even with the laughs from the team, the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Where is he? 

   “Dad’s here!” 

   You hear Derek whisper, trying to not make a scene…which doesn’t work because everyone turns their head. Everyone except you. You’re caught staring at J.J, who sits in her office chair with her blonde eyebrows raised, and her lips purse as she slowly spins to face her desk. 

   Morning. 

   There it is. The voice you’ve ached to be able to hear again, but will deny if ever asked. From the one and only man you’ve ever longed for and have loved since you met him over a lifetime ago. The man you’ve lost sleep over from just wishing you could redo it all over so you and him didn’t go separate ways. The voice that distracts you from work when you’re alone in your office and you’re not sure why. The memories of you and him on date nights flourish your brain when you’re with friends, even though you thought you and him were done completely. The voice you thought you had erased from your memory, but just like that, the memories and feelings come right back like you’re in college again. 

   Aaron. 

   Just like that, he stops dead in his tracks. His back now to you about a desk away, his broad shoulders tense under his black suit. You watch the way his back stiffens and he takes a deep breath in and stands for a moment, but he doesn’t turn around. You’re not sure why you said his name just now, it’s almost scary how natural his name spewed out of your mouth. There was just no way that you couldn’t not say anything to him right now, it just didn’t seem right. 

   My office is all he says with the most monotone voice you have ever heard from him. You’re almost speechless, almost. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you push your tongue into the side of your left cheek - what in the fuck? If he’s going to make this into a thing that it doesn’t need to be, you’re going to lose your shit because you know he can be an adult when it’s needed. 

   “Uh oh, trouble in paradise…” Derek mumbles with a smile that goes from ear to ear. Garcia hits his arm and tells him to shut up, but you can’t help but laugh at him. 

   “Little do you know, pretty boy.” You crack back at him with a wink as you start your way towards the small set of steps that lead to his office. A small giggle fest starts behind you and you can’t help but feel incredible, you’re fitting in so well already and you’re honestly not even worried about what Aaron will do or say. 

   You already know this job is going to be tough. 

   But so worth it. 

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Like A Big Girl (Quirkless!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Take all of me like a big girl, baby.”

Pairing: Quirkless!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 

Synopsis: In which you get the surprise of your life when your apartment neighbor and crush (who happens to be extremely anti-social) shows up at your housewarming party to celebrate your moving into your first-ever apartment after a breakup. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ One Shot (MINORS GTFO); Non-Quirked; Disfigured!Dabi (he has burn scars); Alcohol Consumption; Marijuana Use; Flirting; Shotgunning; Foreplay; Exhibitionism; Fingering; Cunnilingus; Deepthroating; Loud Sex; Doggystyle; Scar Appreciation; Non-Protective PIV Sex; Creampie; Scent Play/Marking; Spanking; Mild Degradation; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: WE A COLLEGE GRADUATE BIH!!! I'm so so happy & so excited for the future. Even more for the summertime cuz now I'm free to write! I hope y'all like this one. I needed to write something smutty for my favorite crusty villain. Enjoy & fuck Enji!! -Jazz

**********

You’ve never been so nervous before until you’re sitting on your couch with a lukewarm tequila sunrise, waiting for your guests of honor to arrive. 

Or rather one guest in particular. You know you shouldn’t be at all. You know you should be socializing and talking to the other guests currently occupying your brand-new apartment in celebration of your down payment and a new accomplishment in life.

You should be laughing, joking, and flirting with the fine-ass men that Rumi insisted on bringing with her to help with catering and cleaning before the party started. 

But you just can’t. The motivation to do so isn’t there, and the reason why is embarrassing.

Rumi, who sits next to you on the couch, looks you up and down. Her stark white hair is piled up into a messy bun on her head and the red bodycon dress she chose for tonight hugs her toned body and legs just right. If anyone could get a lay tonight, it’d be her. “You might wanna smile, babe. You’re scaring off your guests.” 

She gives you a cheeky grin as she sips her drink–a whiskey smash. You’re so glad you managed to find a bartender to make drinks for tonight thanks to Keigo knowing him from his job. You’re even happier that your job’s salary allows you to pay him $550 by the end of tonight. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, bumping her with your knee. But even her brash humor doesn’t make you smile an inch. Rumi rolls her eyes and turns to Nemuri, one of your other hot and longtime friends. “Nemuri, please get this girl another drink so she can get up out of this seat,” Rumi sighs. “I’m tired of seeing that face on her face.” 

Nemuri stands from her seat in her sundress and flats, looking like a sexy girl next door. “I’ll get you some water, honey.” She gives you a wink before making a dash to the snack table located in the kitchen, dodging between people and the wafts of marijuana smoke in the air. Just weed. No vapes or E-cigs are allowed tonight which you made clear in your invitations. 

“I don’t have a face,” you grumble, glaring at Rumi. “And I have gotten out of my seat. I’m the host, aren’t I?” 

“Exactly!” Rumi replies. “Which means you should be walkin’ around and hosting. Not sittin’ here, mopin’ about some dickhead and worryin’ if he’ll show up. Plus, you know how men are: they show up when they want to.” 

“Not true,” you scoff. “That’s a fact that is relevant to my ex, but not to every guy in existence.” Even referring to your ex as simply “your ex” is enough to make you want to down the rest of your drink. Not only did you decide to throw this party to celebrate your buying and moving into your first “big girl” apartment as the start of a new chapter of your life, but you also wanted to celebrate being free of the leech you called your boyfriend of three years. 

“And I’m not moping, okay?” you sharply tell Rumi. “I just wanna make sure there are enough champagne flutes and food. If I get new guests, that means I need more, right?” 

Rumi eyes you down, knowing damn well you’re lying through your teeth. “Whatever you say,” she sing-songs. Nemuri returns with the iced water, handing it to you. “Here you are, honey,” she coos. “What are we talking about?” 

Rumi is happy to fill her girlfriend in. “The fact that she’s ready to toss a wedding ring at this man who’s afraid of leavin’ his apartment for groceries. If she says that’s not why she’s got that sour face, she’s lying.” 

“Hey!” you gasp, kicking at her ankle with your heel. “It’s not a lie! It’s the truth! This is the first party I’m hosting and it’s a lot to worry about, especially since it’s my new apartment.” 

At the beginning of the year is when you found your dream apartment complex. It came with a pool, a tennis court, a gym, and a laundry mat along with central air, free wifi, and vending machines. The neighborhood surrounding the complex was quiet at night, noisy with kids in the morning, and nearby a hub of parks, restaurants, and public transportation. It was the perfect place to begin the new chapter of your life. 

And not to mention a man, in particular, you had a slight thing for lives here. So, after putting down a payment, signing papers, and getting help moving in, you were finally living on your own three months later. Only a party could really welcome you into your new four walls.  But so far, you aren’t enjoying it as much as you should be. 

And that’s all because someone you desperately want to see here tonight is missing. 

“And second, Dabi isn’t afraid of leavin’ his apartment, Rumi,” you criticize your friend. “He’s just not a people person.” At least, that’s what Keigo told you when you met Dabi for the first time. “According to him,” he scoffed. “It’s just an excuse to not socialize, really. But he’s always been like that since we were kids.” 

You caught that vibe from Dabi as soon as you met him several years ago before you met your ex. You met Dabi through Keigo when he dragged his friend to a club to meet up with you and Rumi one spring night for happy hour.

You had heard about Dabi many times before–that he’s a firefighter; that he has some dark humor; that he is kinda weird and awkward but still a pretty nice guy (according to Keigo). As soon as you got a look at that black hair, tight tee shirt, and buff arms roped his tattoos, you were entranced by him. Though he seemed somewhat out of place and like he didn’t want to be there, he carried with him an intoxicating aura, like he was your favorite cocktail drink. 

You were so taken aback at how hot he was that you barely noticed the burn scars. He only had them on his face, neck, and snaking up his arm from what you could see–healed yet puffy skin from second-degree burns coat the left side of his face, cascading down his neck to his upper torso and disappearing down his shirt. Though his arm is roped in tattoos, you can see burn scars there too beneath the dark ink. They aren’t as bad as Keigo said they’d be, but they’re not exactly unnoticeable either. 

But when he spoke, all of that went out the window. Keigo had sat him down across from you and Rumi, grinning. “Ladies, meet my friend, Dabi,” he said. “D, this is Rumi and Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you had politely said, sticking your hand out for him to shake. His crystal blue eyes, so intense yet mysteriously guarded, flitted up to meet yours. He stuck his hand out and took yours, causing your heart to jump at how warm and calloused his palm was. “You too,” he murmured. 

Lord, if you could have sex with a voice, it’d be his. Though it was raspy like he chain-smoked, it was also deep and traveled from your heart right down to your clit which jumped in your panties beneath your skirt. You had to cross your legs to avoid the feeling as Rumi and Keigo began to chat. Dabi would chime in here and there, but mostly just sipped his drink and looked around the club like a bored and lost puppy. 

He was fine as hell and kind of unintentionally funny, but that wasn’t what hooked you. It was two weeks before you moved into your new apartment when he randomly hit you up while you were organizing boxes for move-in day. You were sweaty and out of breath so when you answered the phone, you sounded less than happy. “Yes?” you snapped. 

“Uh…this a bad time?” Dabi had asked, his gravelly yet smooth-like-chocolate voice in your ear. Your eyes widened and your heart jumped into your throat. “Uh, no!” you immediately replied. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you. The ID came up as a possible scam.” 

“That’s my fault,” Dabi said, actually sounding apologetic. “I never gave you my number. Listen, I didn’t wanna take up your time. I just wanted to ask if you needed help movin’ in.” 

“Huh?” you dumbly asked, your brain short-circuiting. “To where?” 

“....Your new apartment?” he said, just as confused as you. “You’re movin’ in this week, right?” 

A record scratched in your mind and you physically facepalmed yourself. ‘You dumb bitch!’ you thought. “Oh, yeah!” you backpedaled. “Sorry, I’ve been moving boxes since this morning.” 

“Well, lemme come up and I’ll help you,” Dabi replied. You blinked at his offer, shocked at how easily he volunteered. “No, it’s fine!” you said. “It’s just little stuff anyway! You don’t have to–” 

“I’ll be up in ten,” he interjected. “I’ve got nothin’ better to do anyhow. Stay there.” Then he hung up, leaving you open-mouthed and horrified at your appearance. Luckily, when he came over, you had dried off your sweat and fixed your hair so you didn’t look a total hot mess. 

Though you worked in silence most of the day, Dabi made sure to ask you what to put where and heaved heavier boxes for you, his muscles flexing as he did. When his job was done, he even offered to help you move your furniture around once you got it. Weeks later, he did so, helping Keigo lug your couch up the stairs and put together a table. 

He did it all in his free time without asking for a dollar. You knew from Keigo how he didn’t like going out much, so to see him do so for you did something to you. Since then, you’ve always had a slight thing for Dabi. You call it a “thing” because you’re not sure what it is. Even when you were dating your ex, he’d always be at the back of your mind and in your wettest dreams. Since he lives in the same apartment complex as you, you made it a point to say hi to him whenever you could after moving in. But the thing is you barely saw him. He lived on a whole other floor and had an entirely different schedule than you which made being nice a lot harder. That’s why you were hoping he’d come tonight: so you could get to know him more. 

“How he and Keigo are friends, I’ll never understand,” Nemuri scoffs. They’re complete opposites!” Rumi smirks up at her as she squeezes a hand on her girlfriend’s ass. “I guess opposites attract,” she teasingly says, pulling a giggling Nemuri close to her. 

You pretend to retch. “Ugh, can you two please stop?” you whine. “I don’t need to be reminded that I don’t have a fairytale romance or that I haven’t had sex in two months.” 

“Two months?!” Rumi and Nemuri exclaim in unison. You flush, adverting your eyes as you sip your drink. “That’s what I’m saying!” Rumi exasperatedly says. “You’re stressin’ over a guy as weird as Dabi when you should be out and about gettin’ your flirt on. With a body like yours, you’d find someone to keep you company tonight in no time. Someone better than that dickhead you left.” 

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you begin to see your ex’s stupid face behind your eyelids. “Don’t remind me of him, Rumi.” 

It’s been three months since you moved out of your shared apartment with your ex and officially broke it off with him after catching him with another girl. After being together for a year and knowing in your heart that this was the man you were destined to be with, you threw caution to the wind and went half on an apartment with him in a nice part of Musutafu. 

The first five months were good, but then you started noticing how lazy he was. He barely cleaned, couldn’t cook, and argued about running errands when you asked him, even if it was just a grocery run. “You know I’m not good with groceries, babe,” he’d whine. “I always get the wrong shit and you yell at me about it!” 

What irked you most about him is that he never tried. Not with anything! Not with the cleaning, the cooking, or the sex. That was another thing you started noticing about him: the sex was boring. It used to be amazing between you two, but after moving in together, it started seriously lacking. Though you cut him some slack because of his busy work schedule and long hours, the same old position (that being doggy style) can get tiresome. 

But though you tried to spice things up with new lingerie, toys, or new kinks to enjoy, he never seemed to want to participate or be interested in them. Those nights of nothing leading into mornings where he left early for work and left you alone were devastating. You started suspecting something was up the third year of your relationship, but you never ever suspecting cheating. 

However, fate forced those rose-colored glasses off of you when you stepped into your apartment one afternoon after a yoga class with Rumi and found your boyfriend getting head from a woman you’ve never seen before. You were devastated, to say the least. Your first instinct was to leave and you found yourself crying to Rumi, Nemuri, and Keigo that night over wine. 

“I’m gonna fuck him up,” Keigo had growled, and you had to stop him from getting in his car to do so. “You’re telling me he cheated on you?” he asked incredulously. “You? He’s as dumb as he is a bitch.” 

“You can stay here as long as you want, babe,” Rumi cooed, stroking your hair away from your tear-soaked face. “Nemuri and I would be happy to have you…as long as you’re okay with the thin walls.” 

And you were (or at least you told yourself you were every time you’d hear Nemuri scream Rumi’s name to the heavens) because you did stay. After Keigo and Rumi helped you get your shit and tell off your boyfriend, you moved out of your shared apartment and bunked with Rumi and Nemuri while you saved up for a new home. 

Your ex called and texted you constantly throughout that time, begging you to come back and that he was sorry, but after you ignored each one, he stopped. It took a while to get over him. Even now, you still feel a lump in your throat over what happened–the lies; the betrayal; the utter disrespect to you and your home. But after a while, you managed to push through and finally began home hunting. 

Rumi stares at you now, pissed that you’re being so stubborn but also looking empathetic towards you. You don’t like either. “Fine, do what you want,” she sighs, “but I still say to get out of your funk and stop worryin’ about Dabi showin’ up. If he does, he does. If he doesn’t, it’s his loss and he needs to get his shit together.” 

You try to ignore her words by gulping down the rest of your drink. When it’s gone, your body craves more to replace your feelings of pure shittiness. “I’m gonna go get another tequila sunrise,” you mutter to Rumi and Nemuri. “Watch my spot.” 

You hurry away from your hands, not wanting to see their faces as you make a beeline for the kitchen. You plaster on a smile as you catch the eyes of your guests, wanting to assure them that everything is fine and you don’t feel like you just wallowed in a load of shit in your pretty yellow mini dress.

You finally make it to your kitchen, away from the music blasting from your portable speaker in your living room and the constant chatter. The snack table and counters still have snacks, plastic cups, and jello shots on them along with bottles of alcohol and soul food that you had catered from your favorite restaurant. 

You immediately for the fridge where a pitcher of pre-made tequila sunrise mix sits next to some sangria (which is all gone). ‘Damn drunkies,’ you think as you go to fill up your glass. Nemuri appears behind you, obviously following you from the couch. She silently watches you pour your drink before she decides to say something. “Don’t worry about Rumi, hon,” she comfortingly says. “You know how she is: she’s blunt, but she’s only that way because she loves you.” 

You lower the pitcher once your glass is full and place it back in the fridge. You don’t close the fridge though. The cool air feels good on your clammy skin. “I know,” you sigh, “but I don’t need to be reminded about how my recent relationship crashed and burned. Not to mention be lectured about Dabi. I’m not a kid.” 

“So you are worried he won’t come?” Nemuri asks curiously. 

“No!” you immediately protest, then pivot, fumbling with the straw in your drink. “I-I mean, not really. He just said he’d show up, so…I guess I was just hopin’ he’d stop by and congratulate me for the apartment since he helped me move in.” 

You had invited him, after all. This was last week on a very warm Saturday morning when the summer heat was starting to rise. It was laundry day and you were forced to lug a pillow sack of dirty clothes in an elevator, sweating in your biker shorts and Spongebob tee. You were prepared for no one to see you that morning, but fate had other plans when the elevator stopped on one of the lower apartment floors. You were headed for the basement where the laundry mat is. 

The doors opened, revealing the last person you wanted to see that morning. “O-Oh!” you stuttered, taken by surprise by his sudden appearance. And the fact that he looked so goddamn hot. Dabi stood at the elevator doors in his usual black attire, except he had on sweats instead of joggers. You had to force yourself not to stare at his crotch. “Hey, Dabi,” you greeted him, giving him a smile. 

Dabi only gave you a nod as he stepped inside the elevator. You didn’t take it negatively. That was just Dabi–he never said much. He pressed the button to the lobby before the doors closed, leaving you together in the small elevator cart. You could feel the four walls of the elevator closing in with him standing so near, especially when his scent was invading your senses. It was spicy yet sweet like cinnamon with a hint of cologne. It was turning you on badly. 

Dabi suddenly tilted his chin at the pillow sack. “What’s with the sack?” he muttered. “You got kids to deliver to or somethin’?” 

You quirked a smirk at his attempt at a joke. “Funny,” you chuckled. He smirked back, shrugging passively. “I try.” Just like that, the tension faded. “Just laundry,” you sighed. “About two weeks’ worth. I’ve been puttin’ it off since I’ve been still setting up my apartment.” 

He nodded and you both fell into silence again that swelled around you. “Sooo where are you off to so early?” you asked, desperate to fill the horrible silence. “Just the station,” he replied blandly. “Why they decided to have a meeting at the ass-crack of dawn is beyond me.” You nodded and giggled to yourself, only imagining the shit he had to put up with as a firefighter. Dabi has been working for the Musutafu fire department for three years now, commuting from the apartment to work every morning. 

You smile at him gratefully. “Thanks a lot for helpin’ me with the move-in process. It made things so much easier.” He once again shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s whatever,” he mumbled. “And no, I don’t want your money, before you say anything. You need it more than I do.” 

“Ugh, you ain’t lyin’,” you groaned tiredly, your mind jumping from place to place. “I thought doing all the cleaning would be a lot, but I’m still gettin’ used to handlin’ the bills myself plus rent and groceries and…” You buttoned your lip and flushed embarrassingly, realizing you’d been talking for too long. “Sorry,” you giggled, embarrassed. “I’m rambling. Not a good way to start your morning. Just tell me to shut up.” 

Dabi shrugged, not looking perturbed by it. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for. Your ex was a dick, end of story. Plus, hearin’ you complain about him isn’t the worst thing I’ve heard in the morning.” He looked at you, looking deadass. “Try gettin’ an earful of that blonde bitch singin’ in the shower when he’s not laid up with somebody.” 

You laughed then, glad you didn’t have Keigo as a roommate. “How are your ears not bleeding?” you giggled. Dabi smiled at the sound of your laugh–a real, genuine smile that made him even more handsome to you. The moment quickly ended though when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the lobby. “This is me,” Dabi muttered, his smile disappearing. 

He began to head out, not even giving you a goodbye or a “have a nice day” or a “you look fine as fuck in those shorts, lemme get your number”. Nothing! Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing this may be your one chance to interact with him for more than five seconds. 

Quickly, you jammed the button to hold the doors open. “H-Hey!” you abruptly called out. Dabi stopped and looked over his shoulder at you. “I meant to tell you: I’m havin’ this apartment warming party next Saturday night. It’s like a housewarming, but it’s for my apartment and uh…” 

‘You’re rambling! Just get to the point, bitch!’ 

“If you wanna come, you’re welcome to,” you continued. “Keigo is coming, so I figured I’d extend the invite.” Dabi had an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at you as if trying to make sense of you. “So…other people are gonna be there?” he carefully asks. 

You blinked at him. What a weird fucking question. “Well, yeah, but just some of my coworkers and people Rumi and I know. It’s just a small thing, nothing too big. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but there’s gonna be food, music, a little bit of weed…” You trailed off, hoping the weed would get him since he’s a smoker. 

Dabi shoves a hand into his pocket and leans back on his haunches. “I don’t really go to parties too much,” he admitted. “Not that I hate ‘em, but I’m not really a people person.” That definitely meant he wasn’t coming. “Oh,” you exhaled, disappointment blooming inside of you. “I get you. I just figured I’d–” 

“I mean, I’ll still stop by or whatever,” he interjected with a shrug. “Don’t I gotta bring a gift or somethin’?” You tried to stomp down the happiness flooding your chest, but you couldn’t help it. “If you want!” you chirped happily. “I like plants…wine…gift cards…Beyoncè tickets…just some ideas.” 

Dabi smirked humorously at your little witty joke. “Not sure about that other part, but I’ll see what I can do.” Then, without another word, he turned to leave. “I’ll see you later then!” you called after him to which he gave you a slight wave. Finally, you let the doors close on you, and though his goodbye was anti-climatic, you couldn’t get rid of your smile. 

Now here you are, two hours into the party, and he still isn’t here yet. Keigo isn’t either but he at least said he was coming straight from work as a bartender. “Don’t be upset if he doesn’t, Y/N,” Nemuri coos, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t heard of Dabi ever going against his word, he’s very…different.” 

‘Tell me about it,’ you think.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Nemuri continues, “but he’s not as much of a social butterfly as Keigo is, especially because of his accident. He might be afraid he’ll make people feel uncomfortable.” 

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, you freeze, your brain processing the meaning behind them. Dabi never talked about his accident, especially to you, but according to Keigo, he got those burn scars not from a firefighting mission gone wrong. He got them when he was a child after playing with matches one Christmas night and setting his home on fire. Supposedly, this was because he was angry that his father aka that redheaded bitch Enji Todoroki didn’t buy him, his siblings, or his wife any Christmas gifts. 

Little Dabi found the matches sitting up on the mantel above the fireplace and ultimately set a spark that engulfed their home. Dabi was never the same after that, especially after nearly dying from the flames. Luckily, he didn’t die from his severe burns, but they left the left side of his face and body with burn scars–reminders of what happened. “He blames himself a lot for that night,” Keigo said to you when he recounted the story. “Especially since his family lost so much stuff. To him, he feels responsible for the fact that his family could’ve died in that fire.” 

Though he has a great relationship with his family besides Enji, he’s always carried around the weight of that trauma. Literally speaking too, because of those burns on his body. He can never ever get rid of them. He’s forced to wear them and be scrutinized by the world because of his disfigurement. 

As soon as Nemuri’s words process, you feel sick to your stomach. “I never thought of it that way,” you confess, feeling horribly guilty. “Fuck, now I feel like a bitch! Here I am upset over him not comin’ to my party when he owes me nothing, and yet–” 

“Hey.” Like a light in the darkness, Nemuri emerges in front of you and firmly holds your shoulders. “Stop. You’ll ruin your makeup sweatin’ over this.” She then hands you a napkin and you begin to bloat your Fenty Beauty foundation, hoping your makeup didn’t slide.

“Just take a breath, get yourself another drink, and have some fun!” she encourages. “While I wouldn’t have said it as brazenly as Rumi did, I agree that you need a night to forget about your ex and meet somebody you can spend the night with so you can forget about your ex. Here, I’ll even help you! I’m great at matchmaking.” 

You quirk a smile at her volunteering to help you get laid. “Thanks, Nemuri, but I think I’ll pass on scouting for dick tonight. I don’t feel like hooking up.”

And you don’t. All you want to do is drink, dance, and celebrate your first big girl apartment. “But I do feel like having fun,” you say aloud before taking a jello shot and throwing it back. The taste of vodka and artificial orange immediately hits your tongue, just as your favorite Beyoncè song blasts from the living room. 

“Oh, this is my song!” you squeal, already moving your body to the beat. Nemuri moves with you, happy to see you happy. “That’s the spirit!” she cheers. You two dance in the kitchen for a while until the doorbell rings. “Looks like more people came to congratulate you,” Nemuri giggles, squeezing your hand. “Go get it quick before the song ends.” 

You nod and take your drink with you as you hurry out of the kitchen to your door. You already feel better after the quick dance session and some more alcohol. You feel like you could take on anything now. You swing open the door with enthusiasm, happy to have more guests. “Welcome to my…” you begin to shout, grinning at your guests standing at your door. 

But that smile fades when you get a look at not only Keigo but Dabi standing behind him, each with a bag in their hand. As soon as Dabi’s cobalt eyes meet yours, you’re a puddle. “Home,” you weakly finish. 

“Wow, what a welcome,” Keigo chuckles. “Thanks for havin’ us, babe. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He leans in to give you a one-armed hug before releasing you. “Hope you don’t mind I bought the enigma along for the ride.” 

He nods at Dabi who looks oh-so uncomfortable and delicious in his black tee and jeans. His icy blue eyes flick to yours before looking away to somewhere beyond your face. “N-Not at all,” you reply softly. 

“And us too!” a familiar voice comes from behind Dabi. The voice belongs to his equally as fine brother, Natsuo Todoroki. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He grins at you, running a hand through his snow-white hair.

Another familiar face appears from around the corner though it is hidden behind shaggy, black hair that reaches his shoulders. Tenko, aka Shiggy, with his tattoos and gages. “That’s ‘cause you're deep in those nursing books,” he tells Natsuo before turning to you, dark circles under his eyes. “You got smokes in here, right? I’ve been tattooing people all day and I need a reliever.” 

“Yes, and come in,” you giggle, opening the door wider for your four muscular, tall, and fine-ass guests. They each walk in and you close the door behind them. As soon as they’re inside, Shiggy makes a beeline for the weed, leaving you, Dabi, Keigo, and Natsuo standing there. 

“Woooow, kid,” Keigo whistles. “Cute place you got here. I knew it was a good idea to put the TV over there.” He nods proudly at the TV in the living room. “So this is your very first place. I really can’t call you “kid” no more, can I?” He actually sounds upset about it. 

“Yep,” you laugh. “My first home, first real purchase. I feel like a big girl for real now.” 

“You should!” Natsuo chuckles, a smile growing on his handsome face. “Especially without that emotional vampire suckin’ the life outta you. Oh, before I forget…” He nudges Keigo who presents you with a paper bag “Housewarming gift number one,” the second oldest Todoroki kid says with a grin. “Dabi has the other. C’mon and give her the gift, D!” 

Dabi glares at his brother, but pulls a little bag from behind his back. You look into both, finding a bottle of wine, a bottle opener, and some cute, multi-colored wine glasses in them. “Thank you,” you giggle. “I’ll drink it all tonight.” 

“So where’s the food and the pretty people?” Keigo asks, a mischievous glint in his eye. You already knew the man would be getting his freak on tonight. “All in the living room. Rumi and Nemuri are somewhere around here if you want me to–” 

“Nah, kid, don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Keigo interjects, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll definitely find them. You stay here and tend to your new guest…he’s gonna need it.” He nods at Dabi before giving you a wink. “C’mon, Natsuo!” he hollers, taking the white-haired man by the shoulder. 

Natsuo gives you an apologetic look as he’s dragged off. “Take care of him, please?” he softly pleads before heading off with Keigo to stop him from harassing people. You turn to Dabi who looks ready to strangle them both. “Fuckin’ bitches,” he growls under his breath. 

Standing among the music and the chatter, you realize that now you two are alone. Well, not completely, but enough that it feels awkward without someone starting the conversation. Nervously, you swallow, realizing you’ll have to throw in the towel. “I-I didn’t think you’d come,” you shakily begin. “You said you weren’t a people person.” 

“I’m not,” Dabi gruffly declares, “but I did owe you a gift.” Your heart leaps at his words despite his tone. “You really didn’t, but thanks anyway.” 

He nods once more his eyes flick up and down your form quickly. When you catch it, your entire body grows hot. Does he think you look good? If he does, will he say it? It doesn’t appear he’ll say anything at all. You clear your throat once more, attempting to break the ice that is quickly hardening. “Uh…so you want a drink or a tour of the place? I’d feel bad if you were just standin’ here.” 

“What’s wrong with just standin’?” he deadpans, but you can tell it’s a joke. “Everything, unless you’re a plant,” you tease. You earn a little smirk out of him, but that’s about all you get. So you start to ramble. “The drinks are really good. Keigo knows the bartender, so–” 

“What?” he cuts in, straining to hear you. You lean in toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder to get closer to him. “I said Keigo knows the bartender I hired for the party!” you exclaim into his ear. “I also catered soul food if you want to–” 

You’re rudely cut off when someone bumps into you. She’s one of your coworkers from the HR department, but because she’s so drunk, she barely recognizes you. “Sorry!” she hiccups. “Bathroom!” Quickly, she runs upstairs to your bathroom, holding her stomach as she does. You turn to Dabi who looks even more uncomfortable now. You keep your hand on his shoulder, wanting him to know you’re here for him. He doesn’t move your hand away. “I’m startin’ to think maybe you’re right about the standin’ thing,” he mumbles. “You got anywhere more private?” 

It takes a moment for his words to process, but when they do, you swear you could touch the moon. He’s really here for you. To talk to you. And you know exactly where to go for it. “I know a perfect place,” you giggle excitedly. “Get yourself a drink and I’ll get some smoke. Meet me back here in five minutes.” 

Dabi looks relieved that you agreed. Quickly, he moves to the kitchen to get himself a drink, earning some eyefucks in the process, regardless of his burns. Still holding your gifts, you make a beeline to the smoke section and force Shiggy to cough up the rest of the starburst-flavored papers (to which he whines about) and a little baggie of weed. 

The crew is sitting on the couch vibing to the music when you come over. Keigo and Natsuo are in awe at Dabi being up and about, pouring himself a drink. “So I see you got him to move!” Natsuo laughs. “It’s a miracle!” Rumi, currently holding Nemuri in her lap as she chats with someone next to her, gives you a smirk. “Where are you off to?” she asks suspiciously. 

You smile back at her, unable to hide your giddiness. “To show my guest around. Hold down the fort for a minute.” 

“Maybe more than a minute,” Keigo snickers knowingly. Rumi nudges him with her elbow as you flush to yourself. “You’ve got it, captain. Go enjoy yourself and your man.” You turn away, skin still on fire. “He’s not my man!” you call over your shoulder as you hurry to gather something to loosen you both up. “Yet,” you whisper to yourself. 

Dabi meets you back at your door like you ask him to with a red solo cup that smells of whiskey and apple in his hand. You motion for him to follow you out the door of your apartment and down the hallway. “It’s right up here,” you explain, pointing up the emergency staircase in case of a fire.

Dabi raises a quizzical eyebrow but follows you up the short flight of steps anyway. When at the top, you push open the door at the end of the staircase, revealing the rooftop to your apartment building. The roof is decorated with comfortable sofas, mini tables, and fair lights that hang among the rafters. The edges of the rooftop are blocked off by clear, plaster walls that serve as barriers between the inside and the outside. 

You shut the door behind you and turn to Dabi. “You know about this place?” you softly ask. 

He stares around the prettily-decorated rooftop, lips parted in awe. “Not at all,” he admits, bewildered. “I’ve been livin’ here longer than you and knew nothin’ about it, but then again, I barely come out of my apartment.” 

“I’m a sucker for rooftops,” you confess. “That’s what drew me to this complex.” You walk over to him, staring out at the view before you: glittering city lights and the sunset that isn’t anything but a line of fuschia that dips beneath the mountains far off into the distance. It truly is a beautiful sight. 

You suddenly feel warm as if someone’s eyes are on you and turn to see Dabi unabashedly staring at you. 

“Goddamn, you are short,” he snickers. 

You smack his arm, flushing. It’s not your fault you were cursed with short genes. “Hey!” you gasp, mock-offended. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’ll find yourself goin’ over this rooftop. Just for that, you’re rollin’ the blunt for us.” You plop down on one of the couches and pat the empty seat next to you twice, motioning him to sit next to you. 

Dabi looks hesitant at first but sits down next to you anyway. He still appears tall even though he’s sitting. 

“You sure your crib is gonna be okay?” he asks as he begins to set up shop. You wave off his concern, trusting your guests. “Rumi and Keigo won’t let anything happen to it. Especially Rumi; she scares people.” 

He smirks at your answer as he begins preparing a blunt for you, taking out a grinder and the little baggie of weed. You prepare the wine and glasses, pouring yourself one and leaving another empty for Dabi just in case. Once finished, you sit in silence and watch him work, sipping your wine as you do. You watch him intensely, your eyes hypnotized by his fingers expertly sprinkling the marijuana into the paper and then working on rolling the blunt to absolute perfection. 

He’s so good with his hands. 

Your eyes trail up his hands to his wrists to his arms, admiring the muscle beneath the dark ink on his skin. One tattoo, in particular, catches your attention: the number 58 with a green dragon slithering out of the eight. “Nice tatt.” 

“It’s my firefighter number,” he explains, eyes still trained on his hands. “The dragon is the symbol for the department. I designed and inked it myself.” You don’t notice that you’ve gotten closer to him, your legs aimed directly toward him. Your body is completely under his silent spell. “You do your own tattoos?” you ask, wanting to know more, anything more, about him. 

He nods, jetting his tongue out to lick the paper. It is pink with a glint of something in it. You realize that it’s a tongue piercing and your clit jumps. “Shiggy taught me when we were teens.” He suddenly stops rolling the blunt and points at a few words linked across his right collarbone. “This one is the first tatt I gave myself when I was sixteen. It’s Latin for ‘don’t let the past steal your present’.” 

He then begins to recite the words in Latin, his rolling tongue making the inside of your thighs feel warm. “I didn’t know you spoke Latin.” His eyes flicker over to yours, a softness to them. “There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” he murmurs, his tone low and sugary sweet to you. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the privacy, or him, but it allows you to be even bolder. You scoot next to him even farther, turning your body so that your hip presses against his. He doesn’t move away, but you do feel him tense. “Hopefully, there are some you’d be willing to share,” you softly reply, hoping he’ll read between the lines and see how much you want this. 

Alas, he doesn’t say anything, but you do notice that his knee begins touching yours. You don’t know if it’s accidental or intentional, but it has you feeling warm and tingly regardless. When he finally finishes the blunt, he lights the end of it and takes a smoke test before passing it to you. You take it gingerly between your forefinger and thumb and take a much-needed puff. 

The smoke fills your lungs instantly and you exhale peacefully, watching the wisps of smoke disappear into the starry night sky. “Nothin’ like a blunt to ease the nerves,” you sigh contently, already feeling more relaxed. 

“Are you nervous?” Dabi asks, actually sounding surprised by it. His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, right behind your head. “Around me?” You flush, passing the blunt back to him. “Well, kinda,” you laugh awkwardly. “You’re just so…” You grow quiet, trying to find the appropriate word. 

He takes a puff of the blunt. “Weird?” he finishes, quirking a brow at you as smoke billows from his mouth. He passes the blunt back to you. “I was gonna say ‘quiet’,” you reply. “I don’t think you’re weird.” 

Dabi shrugs, looking out into the city lights. “I just don’t have much to say, but you ain’t the only one who’s nervous. Like I said, I’m not much of a social butterfly; not even at work. That’s Keigo and my brother. They dragged me out here tonight.” His eyes, like twin pools of the bluest water in the farthest Carribean island, flick to yours. “But to be honest, I would’ve come anyway.” 

You suddenly forget you’re holding the blunt and quickly place it down on the ashtray on the mini table. “You would?” you ask, hating how breathless you sound. He shrugs like it should be obvious. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t want that gift card goin’ to just anybody.” 

You scowl confusedly at him to which he smirks humorously. “Look at the bottom of the bag I gave you.” Slowly, you do so, and sure enough, you see a silver $150 Visa gift card glinting at the bottom of the bag. You take it out, staring at it. Dabi looks sheepish, planting his hand firmly in his lap as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It ain’t much and it definitely ain’t a Beyoncé ticket, but I hope you like it.” 

Suddenly, the alcohol, the weed, and the scent of him begin to work their magic on you. All of your inhibitions and all logic are gone as you stare at his gorgeous, scarred face. “I love it,” you whisper, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Dabi’s cheek. You feel his soft skin and the slight prickle of stubble there before pulling away. 

He stares at you, shocked, and you stare right back as reality sets in. ‘Oh, no…what the fuck did I do?’ 

“Y/N,” he says, your voice like a prayer on his lips. But before he can finish his thought, your phone rudely interrupts him. “Fuck,” you hiss. “I’m so sorry.” You scramble to pick it up and find your ex’s name flashing across the screen. “Dammit!” you snap. 

“Who is it?” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. You show him, groaning with dread. “It’s my ex. I thought he stopped callin’ me, but apparently not.” 

“He’s been callin’ you?” he asks, a bitter tone to his voice. He does not sound happy about this. You slowly nod to which he demands, “Put him on speaker.” You stare at him, wondering if he’s deadass, but he’s not looking like he’s bs-ing you about this. Despite your better judgment and confusion, you do as he says and put the call on speaker before answering your ex with a curt, “What do you want?” 

“Heeey, that’s no way to talk to your man,” your ex slurs into the phone. “What’s up with you?” You scowl in disgust at his tone. “What’s up with you?” you shoot back. “Are you drunk?” He snorts in response meaning he’s definitely drunk. “Not nearly enough. Just was thinkin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone in that big, empty apartment…but then I happened across your IG and saw your stories.” 

“Yeah, and?” you ask cooly. 

“You’re throwin’ a party at the expense of us?” he snaps at the flip of a switch. “You want everyone to know what happened to us?” You roll your eyes. Everything is always about him. “Only my friends know what happened because they’re my friends. And even if I tell people, it’s none of your business and you fuckin’ deserve it for cheating, lying dick.” 

He pauses, letting your insult process, but the longer he’s quiet the more tired you grow. “Is this what you called me for?” you demand. “To argue? ‘Cause I’m not in the mood.” He makes a sound over the phone between a sigh and a groan, sounding exhausted. “Can’t we just talk about this?” he asks. “I just don’t get why you had to leave. We had three years!” 

You scoff to yourself. The sheer audacity of this guy! Those are three years he decided to ruin; not you! 

“Can’t we just talk it out, Y/N?” he asks again, sounding absolutely broken.

Now it’s Dabi’s turn to respond. “There ain’t nothing to talk about,” he malevolently replies. “She already made it clear that she’s not interested in whatever you want.” 

Your ex is quiet for a moment, taken aback by the new voice. “Who the fuck are you?” he spits. “Y/N, who is that?” Your brain short circuits trying to find a legitimate answer. 

“Her new man,” Dabi growls, “and if I ever see you callin’ her again, I’m pullin’ up to make you see God early. You’re lucky I didn’t do that when I found out you stuck your dick inside someone else who wasn’t the woman you had. What are you, stupid?” You and your ex are silent, astounded by his words. 

“And if you even think about comin’ over here yourself, don’t,” Dabi continues. “Take that as my act of kindness to you even though you sure as hell don’t deserve it.” Your ex is enraged, cussing, and slurring into the speaker. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snaps. “You think you can just–” 

“Don’t call here again, whore,” Dabi growls before he gives you a slight nod and you end the call. 

As soon as the call ends, you set your phone down and voice the one question that is burning you alive: “Did you mean what you said?” you ask carefully. “That you’re my new man?” 

Before Dabi can even begin to explain himself, you softly, shyly, tell him, “Because I wouldn’t reject that offer.” 

Dabi gapes at you, obviously not believing your words. Then a hardened expression sets on his handsome face. “You’re not serious,” he scoffs with laughter. “You’re not.” You scowl at him, disappointed. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You don’t think I want this?” 

“No, I don’t,” he replies sternly, suddenly standing up. You can see that wall that you’ve been all night trying to destroy building back up. “I think you think I’m a weird ass, introverted loser that you wanna take a ride on because it’ll be fun for the first few weeks while you’re gettin’ over your breakup.” He shakes his head, laughing to himself. “You could never want me.” 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Why would you think that?” you softly ask, hurt for him now more than yourself. Dabi chuckles dryly. “C’mon now, Y/N,” he scoffs. “Someone who looks like you with someone who looks like me?” He points to the scars on his face. “I’m not the man you think I am.” 

“I don’t think of you as anything, Dabi,” you passionately say, standing up now too. “I invited you here because I want to get to know you more. I always have, even when I was with my ex.” He turns to stare at you, shocked at your words. There it is: the truth, laid out in the open with only the stars as witnesses to it. 

You move closer to him, gently taking his wrist into your hand. His body feels tense in your grasp. “Your scars mean nothing to me; they never did. Would you believe me if I said I’ve always liked you too?” 

You take your other hand and place it on his chest, right above his heart which is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “Now that I know you’ve felt the same way, nothing is holding me back anymore.” 

You then stand up on your tiptoes and again press a kiss to his jawline, right on a burn scar there. “I can handle this, Dabi,” you murmur against his ear. “I like it rough.” That is all you needed to say to get Dabi to finally unravel. 

You can only let out a tiny gasp before he grabs you by the back of the neck and presses his lips against yours. His kiss isn’t soft or careful. His kiss his rough; hungry; slow as he draws moans and gasps out of you. He kisses you like he’s been dreaming of doing so for ages, and you have no doubt that he has. His lips are soft, the taste of whiskey, apple, and mint on his tongue. You let his hands move along your back and ass, squeezing the flesh there and making you moan. 

Taking advantage of your open mouth, he slides his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside of your mouth. He moans hungrily as your tongue begins to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath. The act makes your pussy clench impatiently in your panties, wanting to be touched and petted. By him. Dabi then pulls away enough to speak to you, his eyes hooded and dark. 

“How long have you felt his way about me?” he murmurs hotly against your lips. “Tell me.” 

His hand sneaks down underneath your dress to squeeze your ass. You let him, biting back a whimper in the process. You barely know him and yet you’re letting him touch you like this right in the open. “S-Since you helped me move,” you softly stutter. “But I’ve always been attracted to you since we met.” 

He begins to kiss you all over now: your neck; your jawline; your collarbone; your naked shoulders in your spaghetti straps. “Fuck,” he growls against your skin. “You’re too good to be fuckin’ true.” His hands roam up and down your hips and sides, squeezing and fondling. “I’ve been wantin’ your fine ass since we met.” 

“How come you never…?” The rest of your question doesn’t reach your lips as he grabs you by your hips and pulls you toward him, so close that air can’t even move between you. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, so close that you can feel a bulge in his jeans that can only be his hardening dick. He’s turned on by you. The fact makes you delirious. 

His lips press against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth becomes raw from it. He begins to walk backward to the couch, never breaking the kiss, and plops down onto the cushion. He then grips you by the hips and coaxes you on top of his lap where you begin to straddle him. His hands, so rough yet so warm, continue to fondle your thighs and ass, squeezing at the flesh there and making you whimper into his mouth. Instinctively, you grind down into his hardening dick, enlisting a moan from deep within his throat. It travels right down to your pussy. 

Suddenly, he pulls away with a soft gasp. His eyes are lust-blown, his lips pinker than usual. “Hang on…I wanna try something.” With one arm wrapped securely around your waist, he moves to pluck the blunt from the ashtray. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks. You blink dumbly at him, confused, and shake your head. “It’s easy. Lemme show you.” 

You watch with utter lust as he takes a long drag of the blunt, his eyes pinned on yours. Then, with one hand, he squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to form your mouth into an O shape. He leans in close as if he is about to kiss you again and, slowly, billows of marijuana smoke shoot out of his mouth and into yours. You’re trembling with need and anticipation as the smoke fills your senses along with the sight of Dabi’s crystal blue eyes staring you down. “Nice, right?” he chuckles. “Now try it with me.” 

You’re eager to try this new addictive activity as well as please him, so you pucker your lips and puff on the blunt that Dabi holds out for you. Then, after inhaling a good portion of smoke, you slowly blow it out into Dabi’s waiting lips. But you don’t stop there. You lean in toward him and devour his mouth, desperate to have him. At some point, he puts the blunt back down but you don’t notice. You’re too drunk and high off of him. You pull away, leaving him dazed. “I want you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him.  

“Bedroom?” he asks, a suggestive glint in his eye. “And before you ask, no, I don’t think you’re easy or that I’m a rebound. We already established that we’re two idiots who’ve been pinin’ after each other for months now.” 

His words make you smile. Though you weren’t at all thinking about if he saw you as “easy” or if he was just a lay to get over your ex, it’s so nice to hear that all he wants is you. This only makes your need for him grow until it reaches an almost painful point. Your throbbing clit is a testimate to that. 

“No bedroom,” you say, giving him an excited, sexy smile. “I want you out here.” Dabi raises a brow, not expecting your request. “Please, Dabi,” you plead. “I-I don’t think I can wait.” To show him that you’re serious, you begin to take down the spaghetti straps to your dress to reveal your bra. You don’t care if anyone sees. You just want him so badly. 

The shock in his blue eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he gets a look at those perfect tits in the pretty little bra you have on. “You little freak,” he chuckles. “Well, at least lemme get a feel of you if you want me that badly. Hop off me.” You listen to him and settle down next to him as he gets up to inspect you. 

You bite your lip and watch him as he kneels down in front of you and opens your legs. When he gets a look at your soaked little panties, he almost looks pained. “Goddamn, mama,” he hisses. “You’re so wet for me. You don’t even need these little panties anymore.” His eyes flick up to yours and his hands still at your thighs. ‘Okay?’ his eyes ask. 

Wordlessly, you nod, unable to speak. But he isn’t down for that. He begins to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit above your panties, paying close attention to your reactions. “Words, baby,” he growls. “Gimme words.” 

“Yes!” you moan, your toes curling in your heels at the feeling of his fingers brushing your wet cunt. “Please, Dabi…please touch me.” He gives you a wolfish grin at your pitiful reaction, but doesn’t keep you waiting. He loops his fingers through the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs you reveal your naked, sobbing wet pussy. “Shit!” he hisses, gaping at your sex. “You have the prettiest pussy, babe.” 

“Thank y–!” Your words are cut off by a sudden gasp as Dabi leans in and begins suckling on your clit and eating your pussy like a starving man. He is relentless with his tongue slashes, flicks, and long licks up and down your slit. He moves his tongue like he’s a master at eating pussy, paying close attention to your reaction every time he does something new. 

You’re loving it. You writhe and grind your hips against his mouth, trying to get him closer. Your pussy pushes around his pillowy-soft lips and wet tongue that writes shapes and nonsense words across your wet lips and needy little clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles into your pussy. “Does doin’ this shit out in the open turn you on that much, mama?” 

You moan in response to him, unable to form words, especially when he reaches one hand up to pay with your breast. You help him bring down the bra cup to expose your breast, hissing in pleasure as he begins gently pinching the hardened brown nipple. This is insane. You barely know this man and not only are you letting him do this to you, it’s all in public. Anyone could walk up the staircase and see you, or look across or up from the sidewalk to find you like this. 

It’s so shameful. So nasty. And so, so good. It feels even better when Dabi begins to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy. “You want this?” he asks, his voice nothing but a low growl. You nod vigorously and he laughs. “So needy,” he teases as he begins to slowly slide his finger inside of you. “Your ex must’ve not be takin’ care of this pussy. He never made you feel like this, did he?” 

“N-No,” you gasp, eyes blown as you feel your pussy stretch slightly around his finger. He quickly begins to aim up to brush against your clit as he slides his finger in and out of you. Not only that, but he also begins to suck at your clit, sending waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through your body. This shit is crazy! He’s crazy! 

You can feel yourself quickly beginning to reach that peak to your climax. ‘No!’ you think stubbornly. You don’t want this to end. You want to make this moment last. “Wait, Dabi!” you shout, writhing against him. “Stop! Don’t make me cum!” He immediately ceases his movements and pulls away from you, glaring in confusion. “‘Scuse me?” he asks, not sounding happy with your protest. 

You nearly laugh at his reaction. “I wanna make this last,” you explain. “I wanna make you feel exactly how you must made me feel. So stand up.” Dabi still looks pissed he couldn’t make you cum, but listens to you anyway. He stands up, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you stand with him. Slowly, you begin to kiss and suck your essense off of his mouth, earning low moans from him. 

Your hands slide down to his broad chest and you grip his shirt collar. “Off please?” you ask, peering up at him through your lashes. You don’t even have to ask twice. In a flash, he’s stripping himself of his shirt and tossing it somewhere on the rooftop. 

You take a moment to admire his beautiful body–so hard and defined with muscle, ink, and burn scars that coat the left side of his body. His nipples, pink and hard, glint with two rings that hang from them and his lower stomach is sinewy with ink black hair. He’s so, so pretty. He must think your stares mean something else because he adverts his eyes from yours. “I know it ain’t picture perfect,” he mutters, sounding ashamed in himself. Your heart leaps with fear, hoping you didn’t ruin tonight for you both. Quickly, you try to fix things by gliding your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs. “You’re perfect,” you whisper before leaning in to peck his burn scars, running your lips softly over each. 

The low moans and “mmm”s Dabi lets leave his mouth are delicious to you. They only heighten your arousal along with the sound of the party still going on downstairs. The music and chatter are muffled, but the fact that it is still near is so exciting to you. You never pictured yourself one for exhibitonism, but you suppose it takes the right person to bring the freak out of you. 

And baby, do you want to be the freakiest bitch for Dabi. To prove that, you begin to lick and suck along his hardened nipples, tugging on the tiny silver rings hanging from them. “Fuck, baby,” he hums, watching you as you work. His lips are parted and his eyes are hooded. He is completely entranced by you. 

He hasn’t seen shit yet. You begin to kiss down his hardened stomach until you come to his jeans already hanging low on his hips. You stop, your hands at his fly, and look up at him. ‘Okay?’ you ask with your eyes. Slowly, he nods, giving you the green light to finally rid him of his pants. You pull them and his underwear down in one go, eager to see what’s underneath. 

You begin to think you bit off more than you can chew (or suck, rather) when you get a look at his cock for the first time. He is well endowed, thick, and curves upward so his dick slaps against his stomach when you finally release him from his trousers. Black hair curls around his stomach and pubic area, but it isn’t like a jungle. But that isn’t what gets you: it’s the cockhead piercing that glints from the head of his dick in the moonlight. 

You gape at his cock, not sure what to say or do. “You okay?” he asks, laughter in his voice at your silence. “Uh…” That’s all you can say. He’s just so, so big! How could you get him in your mouth? You’re lucky you can even fit one hand around him as you begin to stroke him softly from base to tip. 

Dabi cackles down at you, relishing your fear. “Don’t be scared of it, mama,” he purrs, taking his dick out of your hand and waving it in front of you. You watch, hypnotized…or dickmatized. “You said you wanted to make me feel the way I made you feel, right?” he asks teasingly. “C’mon now. You can do it. Open that pretty mouth.” 

Not wanting to disappoint him, you open your mouth and he slowly begins to slide his dick against your tongue. “There we go,” he coos. “Good girl…take it all in.” You try to do so, your jaw and mouth stretching to accompany his size. “I’m guessin’ I’m bigger than your mans, huh?” he chuckles lowly. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum around his cock, the vibrations causing him to moan. You relish the sounds, wanting more. So you begin to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out of your throat. You gag and spit all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy. Dabi is loving it. He tosses his head back and rolls his eyes to the back of his head, giving you a sight that is fit for only the finest of porn. He’s so, so sexy. And to be able to make him feel good gives you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continue to fuck him with your throat. 

“You’re doin’ so good, babe,” he grunts as he begins to roll his hips into your mouth. “So, so good. At this rate, you’ll make me cum.”

You nod your head, coaxing him to do so. You want him to cum. You want to taste all of him in your mouth. But he surprises you when he begins to slow down his hips and pulls his wet cock out of your mouth. “No,” he growls. “If I’m gonna cum, it either has to be on that pretty ass or those titties of yours.” 

You stare up at him then, drinking in his spectacular body and dick standing at attention for you. You then decide that if you are to finally cum, you want it to be wrapped around his cock.

‘Fuck it,’ you think. You don’t care that you barely know him. All of that “getting to know you” shit can wait until after you get him inside of you. “Why not inside of me then?” you purr, standing up to take his hands in yours. 

He blinks at you, dumbfounded. “Without a condom?” he asks. “I don’t have one on me.”

You shake your head, pecking his lips. “I’m on the pill.”

That’s all you need to say to get Dabi to smash his lips hungrily against yours. “Oh, thank fuck,” he sighs, relieved. “I don’t mind beatin’ my dick to the sight of you in front of me, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want your pretty little pussy wrapped around me.” 

His dirty words send shivers up your spine. “And you’re okay with this? I mean, we barely know each other and–” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls, already moving you back to the couch again. “I’ll take you out later to get to know you, but right now, I fuckin’ need all of you. Now choose how I’m doin’ you before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

You gape at him, dumbfounded and so, so horny. You’ve never had a man be so desperate for you before. You waste no time bending over the couch, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him. You then look back at him, finding him standing there and stroking himself to the sight of you. “Like this,” you whisper. “Fuck me just like this, Dabi.” 

Dabi is going fucking feral behind you. It takes everything in him to not shove every single inch of his hard, thick cock inside of you as he moves closer to you and begins to stroke your pussy with his cock. “God, look at you, stainin’ up the couch,” he sighs as you twitch and quiver along his dick. “Anyone could look up and see you like this, about to get fucked by someone who is practically a stranger to you.” 

‘I don’t care,’ you want to scream. Anyone could watch if they want. All you want is that dick inside of you now. And then finally, he gives it to you.

He goes slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him. As soon as his cockhead enters you, your jaw is dropping open and your eyes are blown from how stretched you feel already. No toy could compare to how warm and solid Dabi feels snuggled up in your pussy. Not even your ex could make you feel this full or this good. 

Through it all, you breathe in and out, relaxing your body into the couch cushion. Though it doesn’t hurt, you’re feeling beyond stretched by Dabi and you almost collapse from the feeling. You’re so glad to have the back of the couch to grip as Dabi takes a hold of your hips and bottoms out inside of you. “F-Fuck, Dabi!” you whine, gripping the couch. You can’t believe how good you feel. Where the fuck has he been hiding all this time? 

He begins to bump his hips against your ass a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit. “Come on now, mama,” he huffs. “You wanna be a big girl, right? Take me just like one. Make me proud.” He begins to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your breasts and fondling them one at a time. 

The feeling is just too much. His dick strokes the most sensitive parts of you as your clit jumps with every slap of his balls against it. And he’s just so deep. He is making you see stars that don’t even compare to the ones coating the night sky above the beautiful view stretched before you. You have no chance to take it all in, too busy taking Dabi’s fat cock as he fucks you into oblivion in your little sundress and heels. 

“Feels good, don’t it?” he grunts into your ear. One hand moves to your ass to gently spank your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling. “Bet you’ve dreamed about this,” he growls to you. “Bet you wanted to get slutted out on my dick for so long. Bet you couldn’t wait for tonight. Bet you planned for this.”

He leans down toward you, his lips grazing your ear. “Bet you’ve wanted to be my good girl for so long,” he growls before his hand comes down on your ass a little harder. 

“God, Dabi, yes!” you scream out to the heavens, gripping the couch for dear life as he fucks you harder. You’ve never felt like this before: so gone. Your eyes are closed and your mind is completely blank from the blinding pleasure you feel, each wave much bigger than the one before and washing over you. 

The pleasure is just too good, and it’s starting to reach a deafening crescendo. You can feel it building in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. “Gonna cum!” you practically sob, your head thrown back. “Gonna cum for you Dabi!” 

Dabi cackles behind you, putting a foot up on the cushion to get a better angle as he continues to fuck your pussy into submission. “Me too,” he grunts. “Want you take it. Take all of me like a big girl, baby.” 

He presses his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick is hitting that spot that has you seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids. “Fuckin’ cum for me, mama,” he demands. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel. Cream all over that dick.”  

And you do. Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that chord finally snaps. You unravel, cumming all over Dabi’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you scream, your voice reaching heights fit for a shower singing session when you think no one is listening. You cream all over Dabi’s cock buried deep inside of you as he talks you through it, telling you how good of a girl you are as he strokes your outer thighs. 

“Gonna cum too,” he grunts, his hips snapping against your ass again and again as he chases his high. “You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?” 

“Y-Yes!” you choke out. “Please, please cum for me!” You begin tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to feel him burst inside of you. And that does it. He grips your hips for dear life and cums deep inside of you with a raspy, loud moan that makes your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock. 

You take every single ounce of his warm, creamy cum that shoots into your pussy, never once pulling away. You can feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curl your toes and gasp at the feeling coursing through your body. Finally, Dabi’s hips begin to slow until he is sloppily fucking you, chasing the rest of his high. Then with a soft groan, he pulls out, but it isn’t over for you yet. His cock is still hard as he begins to slide the head along your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum. “So you smell like me,” he softly says. “So no other man will even try.” 

You let out a weak moan as you feel his nut coat your skin and drip down your thighs, making them slick and wet. Finally, he releases you and you slump against the couch, exhausted and spent, but feeling so, so good. After giving you some time to compose yourself, Dabi helps you fix your dress (without the panties) and fishes a napkin out of his pocket to wipe his cum off of your thighs. ‘What a gentleman,’ you think, giggling to yourself. 

He seems sheepish and almost shy standing there, now in his briefs. “I didn’t…hurt you, did I?” he carefully asks as if afraid of the answer. You slowly shake your head, still in a daze. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “I’ve never been fucked like that before.” A proud smile stretches across Dabi’s face. “Just what you needed?” he asks. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Absolutely,” you hum contently. “I hope it’s what you needed too.” He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the crown of your forehead. “That and much more.” You smile happily into his chest, glad that it was just as good for him as it was for you. 

For a while, you two stay like that: hugging in the warm breeze. Finally, Dabi clears his throat. “So…now what?” he awkwardly asks. 

“Well, we can’t go back inside like this,” you giggle. You motion to your dress still hiked up on your thighs and his semi-nakedness, though you’re sure that his physique would be welcomed. “And I think we both need to recover after those mind-blowing orgasms,” you purr, your pussy still sensitive from his dick beating it up. You curl up on the sofa and poke your bottom lip out at him. “Cuddle with me?” you coo. 

Dabi chortles at you, rolling his clear, blue eyes. “Such a baby,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky I like feelin’ you in my arms.” His sweet words make you flush in the breeze as he settles down next to you. He scoops you into his lap and securely wraps his muscled arms around you, squeezing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. 

You feel the same way. You loop your arms around his neck and cradle his head to your beating heart. “So is a date in order after this?” he curiously asks. “I’m not too familiar with this shit, so…” 

You can feel the awkwardness radiating off of him. A laugh bubbles in your chest. Leave it to him to feel awkward about dating even though he just fucked you doggystyle on a rooftop.

“Yes, Dabi,” you laugh. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” You feel him smile into your chest and he squeezes you closer to him, making you giggle. You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up in him. 

When your phone suddenly rings, you feel like shooting somebody. You whine as you grab your phone, Dabi keeping his arms wrapped around you to make sure you don’t fall. Keigo’s name flashes across the screen.

“That’s Keigo,” you sigh. I hope no one broke anything.” You answer the phone, going back to cuddling Dabi. “Yeah?” 

“So I’m guessin’ you made our guest feel welcomed?” Keigo immediately asks. “You two have been gone for, like, an hour.” 

“It hasn’t been that long, Keigo,” you scoff though you really don’t know what time it is. “How’s the party? Is my apartment still intact?” 

“Don’t you trust me?” he scoffs, but you don’t answer that question. “So you and Dabi are together now? I knew it was only a matter of time until he decided to pull up his big boy pants and tell you how he felt.” 

You scowl in confusion, your heart picking up speed. “How did you–?” 

“Know?” he finishes and gives a laugh. “Kid, I’ve known this shit for years! It just wasn’t my business to tell. However, you can thank yourselves because you saved time. Now everyone knows you two are an item.” 

Your eyes widen, hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means. “Huh?” you dumbly ask, earning an eyebrow raise from Dabi. “Everybody totally heard you up there, sis!” Rumi yells in the background. “You ain’t slick!” You hear laughter from Shiggy and Natsuo in the background which embarrasses you even more. You feel like hiding in a hole and never coming out. Everyone heard you? Were you that loud? 

“We turned up the music, but it could only block out so much,” Keigo chuckles, humored at your embarrassment. “I didn’t know you could get that loud. You ever consider singing?” 

“Goodbye, Keigo,” you growl, cutting off his cackle by immediately hanging up. You toss your phone to the side but not before turning off your ringtone. You don’t want anything or anyone ruining this moment for you. “What’d he say?” Dabi curiously asks. 

“Nothing,” you quickly reply. You slide off of his lap so you’re sitting next to him and snuggle back into his chest, holding him close. “Just that he’s an asshole.” 

Dabi chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as he puffs on the rest of the blunt, smoke billowing into the starry night sky above. “Well, that’s just a fact, babe.”  

THE END.

[beepborpdoodledorp]

BOY, I SAY, BOY, YOU GOTTA QUIT YOUR MOPIN' OVER ALL THIS NPC HUBBUB, Y'HEAR? WHY, IT MAY BE NORMAL TO FEEL LIKE NOTHIN' BUT AN OL' SACK OF CORN BUT WITH ALL THIS THINKIN' OF WHAT YOU ARE YOU NEVER STOPPED TO THINK WHO YOU ARE, BOY! WHY, BOY, IF THAT LITTLE CLOWN GAL'S BEEN ABLE TO SET UP SHOP AT THAT BIG TOP THAN WHO'S TO SAY YOU COULDN'T TOO, BOY! WHY, YOU COULD BE SOMEONE REAL THERE, BOY!