#they do not willingly hang out but when they do its for shits and giggles

[hanicchy]

kdj and hsy are SO important to me. imagine you're thrust into this hell world designed to kill you. around every corner is another hurdle meant to slow you down and possibly end your existence for the entertainment of beings beyond your comprehension. you're a plaything at best, a speck of dust at worst, you have little agency beyond how you choose to solve the problems laid before you and even then the end result is almost always set in stone.

and there's a single person, just one, who understands the world to the same length as you. they are the only one with the same amount of knowledge, who knows things they shouldn't, who can look at the world as someone outside of it rather than someone living in it. you're watching a story you know intimately unfold in front of you, and you know the person beside you is doing the same. it's all the two of you can do to use that knowledge for survival, and even though you may not get along you trust them more than you trust anyone else, because who else could sympathize with your need to use that power for good?

[mewhenimanangel]

everywhere ʚɞ miles morales

pairing: 42!miles morales x reader

synopsis: miles finally asks to take you out.

wc: 2.3k

warnings!: swearing, kissing, making out, google translate spanish

prev ʚɞ

it'd been a week since miles invited you over and thanks to him, you got your grade up. the week had been full of flirting, whispering and laughing during class, texting all the time, him and his friend joined your table at lunch, and him finding any excuse to touch you.

in physics he kept his knee touched against yours, he would "drop" a pencil or whatever so he could hold your thigh using it to support himself while reaching for it. when he sat behind you in math, you would feel him touching your curls or your shoulder every now and then. when you would pass a paper back to him his fingers always reached out far enough to touch yours.

it was thursday afternoon on the walk home from school, safiya didn't come to school that day so it was just you and miles. "no because why did she say that like is that bitch really insane" you laughed. "shit is crazy for real" miles agreed, grabbing an arizona. you were currently in lenny's bodega heating up a beef patty - the last one how ironic, debriefing with miles about your day at school. "no fighting bout it this time?" lenny chuckled, ringing you guys up. "nah, he willingly agreed to share this time" you giggled.

you continued walking, both of you munching on your respective halves. you said something that made the both of you laugh and miles just stared at your smile, he wants that image stained in his brain. "alright, what. stressing me out with the staring" you joked, feeling a little awkward. "nothing" he laughed off before continuing. "will you let me take you out?" he asked you. all of a sudden you were nervous and looking around with a doofy grin on your face. "okayy. where?" you threw your trash in a nearby bin.

"it'd be a surprise. actually not really a surprise but on saturday, would you come?" he asked. "yeah i'll go on a date with you" you smiled. he pressed his lips together to hide the big smile that was growing on his face. he laughed out "okay alright, cool. i'll let you know the time" "okayy bye" you kissed him on the cheek and went up your block.

ʚɞ

it was friday night and you were rummaging through your closet for an outfit to wear. you groaned out a sigh and grabbed your phone opening miles' contact.

you pressed face time and waited for him to pick up. "yeah?" his prowler distorted voice answered. you looked at your phone to see him on what looks like to be a roof, prowler gear on. "oh shit sorry, didn't know you were doing your prowler stuff." you said, about to hang up. "nah it's fine, m'not busy right now" he told you, prowler voice turning off. "need something?" he asked you. "miles where are we goingg" you whined. "its a surprise, you can't handle surprises?" he chuckled. "i don't know how to dress for surprises. i don't know what to wear" you sighed. "you look good in everything, don't over think it."

"yeah well i wanna look good for you" you rolled your eyes. he scoffed "you literally always look so good, chiquita relax." suddenly there was a loud bang in the distance and he shot his head over his shoulder. "you'll figure it out. aight i gotta go" he said, prowler voice back on. he quickly hung up and you sighed, going to the kitchen to make a chicken wrap for dinner. this was a 3 am you problem.

ʚɞ

you got in the shower to shave, exfoliate, and scrub your body. getting out of the shower, you put on a face mask letting it set before you came back to do your skincare routine. you sat in your mirror to put product through your curls, deciding to let them down past your shoulders.

you finished your makeup and got dressed in the outfit you'd picked after a few hours of searching. you decided on a short strapless black dress and a gold chain belt that hung around your hips and chunky loafer heels. you decorated yourself with two layers of gold jewelry and your mom's earrings she'd given you.

you admired your look in the mirror before leaving to go in the living room. your dad looked over at you and furrowed his eyebrows "where you going all dressed up?" he asked, pausing his show. "i literally told you i was going out tonight" you scoffed, grabbing your purse. "with who?" he asked you. "miles.." you answered in a small voice. "that damn boy again?! y/n you're not-" daddy please, you literally already said yes. plus he's downstairs already. please please pleaseee" you begged, leaning over the chair in his face.

"ughh alright fine! but that location stays on all night and when i call, you answer. aight?" he bargained. "yayyy thank you daddy" you gave him a quick peck on the cheek before running to grab your purse and jacket. "okay i gotta go byeee" you ran out the door, and down the building stairs. you were about to open the door but miles was on the other side about to do the same thing. "oh hey. was gonna come and ask if you were still coming" he joked. "sorry, stuff with my dad" you smiled.

he took the time to really take you in. the way your curls perfectly framed your face, the way your gloss made your lips shine, the way your necklaces graced your collarbones, the way your dress hugged against your waist. "wow. you look amazing..you look like elegant and shit" he chuckled, feeling a little nervous. "here, they're for you" he smiled, handing you a bouquet of red roses. he reached out to hold your hand, leading you down the street. "ahh thank you" you didn't know what to say, compliments made you awkward.

"you look reall good too by the way" you checked him out. he wore a pair of grey pants with a black short sleeve top and jordans, black jacket over it. "tried my best to look as nice. i don't be dressing like that"he shrugged. "well you look very nice anyway" you squeezed his face.

"can you tell me where we're going now?" you asked him going down the metro stairs. "rockefeller" he answered with a smile. "to do what?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "skating" he answered leading you to a seat. "aw i haven't done that in so long. i used to go with my mom" you told him. "i know, safiya told me." he rubbed a thumb over your knuckles and only now did you realize neither of you had let go.

"you're such a sweetheart, i never would've guessed" you said. "what do you mean?" "i don't know. like i would've never thought we'd be going on a date. or that you would be so thoughtful" you shrugged. "i'm full of surprises, chiquita" he said with a smug look on his face. "yeah whatever" you giggled, resting your head on his shoulder.

you were still hand in hand walking to the entrance to purchase your tickets. “okay well now i feel overdressed” you sulked, taking off your heels. “nah you look good. don’t be afraid to show everybody else up” he got in his knee in front of you and helped you put your feet into the skates. thank goodness you wore socks. he looked up at you and the action felt so intimate while he gently placed your right foot in the skate.

soon after he put his skates on and put your bag and shoes in a locker. he took your hand again and helped you walk out on the rink. you were immediately losing your balance, throwing an arm around his shoulder to hold you steady. “aight i swear safiya told me you used to do this all the time.” he laughed. “only sometimes! and i never actually learned” you giggled.

unlike your clumsy and struggling to find balance movements, miles was smooth and moving with ease, hand on your waist to keep you up right. “how do you know how to skate” you asked him. “unlike you, i actually tried to learn” he joked.

for the majority of the time you stayed close the walls using them to move without making a fool of yourself. miles slowed down to match your pace, practically showing off how easy it came to him.

“alright come on” suddenly he was in front of you and grabbing your hands to pull you out in the middle. “alright wait wait wait wait” you frantically put your hands on his arms. “aye you need to learn chica. hold my hands and watch my feet” he told you. you followed his instructions as he pulled you along, yet yours remained unmoving.

he laughed “you know you gotta move yours too right. just copy how i’m moving mines but in the other direction”

he was in control but you followed his movements and eventually got the hang of it, enough to even move on your own. “atta girl, it ain’t even that hard” he smiled at you and you geeked at his praise. he grabbed your hand again and turned your body in a little twirl. which wound up with you falling into his chest nearly sending him to the ground. “aight so we not that far yet” he laughed. he looked at you before pressing a kiss on your lips.

you continued skating until your time slot was up and you got your things and left. “hungry?” he asked you. you nodded your head and responded with a small mhm before he led you down the street to a cozy restaurant.

you sat down and he ordered a plate of appetizers for you both. you talked the whole time throughout the meal, laughing your ass off. he excused himself for a moment and you kept your eyes on him watching as he found your waiter and told him something.

he came back after a minute and sat down and you guys got back to talking. after a few minutes your waiter came back with two plates, one with a raspberry brownie with fudge and one with strawberry caramel cheesecake - your favorite. he put the plates down and sent a wink to miles before walking away.

you looked down at the plate and it had the words ‘will you let me be your boyfriend?’ written in caramel drizzling. you gushed and bit your lip to hide the huge grin that spread across your face “ohh my god i thought you were literally never gonna ask” you giggled. “is that a yes?” “yes, it’s a yes” you smiled. he leaned over to the table to kiss you, hand placed on your cheek.

you finished your desserts and miles paid the bill before you left the restaurant. you practically couldn’t stay off each other on the walk to the subway station, you arms were wrapped around his and when you complained that your feet were hurting he leaned down so you could climb on his back.

you sat down on the train and he rest a hand on your thigh while you laid your head on his shoulder. “still got one more thing to show you. you down?” he asked. “yeah, for whatever”

you got off and he led you back to his graffiti site. “now how i’m supposed to climb that fence in these heels” you twisted your mouth to the side. he chuckled. “i’ll go over first throw them over the wall and i’ll hold them till you get over duh”

you followed his instructions and hopped the fence before leading you down. there was a wall, once blank now decorated with your face, detailed and big across the wall. you looked so beautiful through his eyes. he moved up next to you and took your hand in his. “ughh you are so..” you didn’t finish your sentence you just put your hands up to his face and brought your lips to his in a heartfelt kiss.

he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. his other hand moved to push your curl out of your face and at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. his hand slid down to your ass making your lips part slightly and his tongue slid in your mouth. the blaring sound of your ringtone made you jump and you sighed seeing it was your dad calling. “hey baby, you on your way home yet? it’s getting late, think you’d better come inside” he told you.

“okay i’ll see you” you answered, hanging up the phone. “it’s my dad, he wants me home” you sighed. “alright let’s go” he said.

you hopped the fence again making your way out of the station. “your feet still hurt?” he asked you. “a little bit” you answered. “well then hop on madame” he joked, leaning down so you could get back on his back.

you talked the whole way home, literally talking his ear off as your chin rest by his shoulder. “sorry if i’m talking too much” you said. “no it’s okay i like listening to you.” you smiled and buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the giddy expression on your face.

he got to your apartment building and gently put you back on the ground. “i’m really glad you asked to be my boyfriend.” you told him. “i’m really glad to be your boyfriend” he smiled. you held his face and pressed your lips against his before pulling away. “goodnight miles” you said. “good night, hermosa” he said back, easing away as you walked in your house.

taglist ౨ৎ

@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo @stevenknightmarc @melllinaa @444morales @noetophat @bigdikzaddy

[thewritersofdeceased]

If you do the black phone still can I request Headcanons on their s/o (female) being unserious and laughs at almost everything and is very giggly?

This was fun to write!! I love writing tbp requests guys its sm fun to me! I’ll be so honest, i was watching aphmau(which i'll be taking requests for now!) while doing this, so i was having a whole load of fun :3!! 

|| THE BLACK PHONE BOYS WITH A REALLY GIGGLY S/O! ||

FINNEY BLAKE

Finney has a 50/50 reaction when it comes to his s/o being super giggly! It really depends on the situation

If it’s a situation where either of them gets hurt, for example, tripping or something, he’s a little bit confused as to why your laughing

Until he realizes it’s the “laugh first ask later” type of thing

But of course he makes sure you’re okay! He’d feel bad if you were really injured with it.

If you’re just super giggly, he doesn’t mind! Just unless it comes to school.

Definitely uses your giggly personality to his advantage and stuff, especially during pillow fights and tickle wars!

Yes. He gets dragged into the pillow fights mostly by Gwen.

ROBIN ARELLANO

Robin's a little bit confused about being supper giggly, but he's not mad about it at all!

He's just used to being super focused on his fights, so he enjoys the change of having a giggly partner! it's actually really refreshing to him

like Finney, he uses the giggly personality to his advantage, all the tickle fights and everything of the sort

Would beat the living fuck out of anyone who said it was childish to be super giggly or any insulting words (those are usually from Moose)

Again, laugh first ask later type of person unless it’s super SUPER serious injuries

He buys you silly bandaids just to hear your laugh!

BRUCE YAMADA

Has no issue with your giggly personality! In fact, he matches it! He has a younger sister, so he’s used to outgoing and giggly kinds of situations!

Your laughter and just smile in general is his motivation to win any of his baseball games, he just loves your smile and giggles so much!

He has no issue trying to make you laugh, but of course he makes sure you're okay! He couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt then laughing it off. well- he can, but of course he's worried about it!

He's definitely the type of person who'll like- copy? If that makes sense! So if he hangs around someone for too long he'll do the same?

For example because I'm bad at explaining, if your super giggly and Bruce hangs around you for a while, he'll eventually start to be a bit more giggly and outgoing!

VANCE HOPPER

Vance is on the "what the fuck is going on" side between the super giggly personality, as he's more used to super serious situations (for example, him always getting in trouble with the cops and everything, getting into fights)

He likes hearing your laugh, dont' get him wrong! he's just not the type of person to get all giggly or laugh much himself. after all, not a lot of people trust him since he's always getting into fights and such.

He enjoys the difference between you two! He enjoys the opposites sort of vibe you two have.

He would willingly beat the shit out of anyone who tries to make fun of your giggly personality. Like Moose for example :]

He's not one to join any pillow fights or anything, he prefers to be much more on the "just relax and let me hear your stupid jokes" side of the relationship

In general, a 7/10 when it comes to his s/o being super giggly!

BILLY SHOWALTER

Billy's similair to Finney for this one, super confused!

But he enjoys the giggles once he finds out it's just your personality!

He loves hearing your laugh when you're playing with Harper, since Harper's usually a super energetic dog!

Definitely takes you to carnivals and loves hearing your laughs at those glass house mirrors (like the silly and funky ones!)

Hearing you laugh while he's making silly faces in photos or anything is like his #1 goal in life

Billy loves you so much that he would definitely send you silly notes during class(he only hopes it doesn't get you two in trouble)

He'd also start laughing if you two ever get a stern lecture, just because of how unserious you are

GRIFFIN STAGG

Griffin's not used to unserious or giggly people, as he's usually self-reserved and quiet with his nose in a book

If you asked him a character that reminded him of you, he'd say Pinkie Pie automatically

He enjoys the silly and outgoing personality you seem to have, he has no issue with it!

He thinks his mother would've loved you, as your the reason he's getting out of the house!

Griffin has NO problem having Vance beat the hell out of someone for making fun of you

[theoceantot]

Chapter 8

The days flew by for everyone. After you got over missing your mama you actually had fun with the wives and Tengen. Your headspace remained very young where you needed help with almost everything but they didn't seem to mind. Hina sung you to sleep, Makio played games with you and tickled you until you could hardly breathe, Suma loved feeding you bottles, and Tengen was responsible for basically being in your eye sight 24/7 or you lost your shit.

After the first night you had an attachment to him and surprisingly he didn't seem to mind too much. He's actually pretty fond of you now. You loved being held by him and playing with his gems that hanged next to his face. And the way he gently rocked you to sleep never failed to make the wives smile. They couldn't have kids now but you would do in the meantime.

On the last night, Hina was singing a traditional lullaby as you layed on Tengens chest as he rubbed your back as you cooed.

"Wuv you"

You said as you looked up at Tengen. His heart felt like it was gonna burst.

"You're pretty flashy too squirt" Tengen replied and patted your head.

Shinobu knocks on the door the next morning but nobody replies so after a few minutes she enters with the key hidden under a nearby flower pot. She looks through the house until she sees Tengen asleep with you curled on his chest sleeping soundly.

She gently shakes Tengen awake and asks him to carry you back to her estate. He agrees and the two make their way there. You are placed gently in your crib with the blankets covering your small figure your Teddy being held tightly replacing Tengens arm.

"Was she good?" Shinobu asked

"At first all she wanted was you but she came around and was as flashy as ever" Tengen smiled as he looked at you which Shinobu caught.

"You seem to be warming up to her. It almost seems like you like taking care of her" Shinobu teased.

"No that's no- Its not that-"

Shinobu giggled and drug him out of your nursery.

(Later in the day)

Shinobu was sitting in your rocking chair feeding you your bottle when you pushed it out of your mouth and started grabbing at her chest through her uniform. At first she was confused but then she realized.

You wanted to be breast fed

Shinobu just wasn't ready for that yet. And she didn't even produce milk yet. She could definitely create some sort of medication that would make her though...

"Awwww baby I'm sorry but I don't have any milk yet"

Before you could protest she put the bottle back in your mouth. Shinobus lucky she could make angel milk so nasty or otherwise you wouldn't have taken it so willingly. Tomorrow, Shinobu planned to take you to Mitsuris so you three could spend some time together. The love hashira absolutely adore you and wants to have you try a ton of her cooking. The next day Shinobu got you all dressed and attached a paci clip onto your kimono so you wouldn't drop it.

The first 20 minutes of the visit consisted of Mitsuri gushing over you and then going to talk to Shinobu about the mission and other random topics. This quickly made Y/n bored. So she decided to have a little adventure! You made your way out the door. You waddled through the forest until you saw another estate. Filled with curiosity you walked around the estate to see Sanemi sitting in the grass looking at the sky. He seemed to be thinking about something with the serious look on his face.

He was really mean to you but he apologized so that must mean your friends now right? Right! You waddled up to him and started waving

"Hiiiiii how doin?" You asked with a smile

Sanemi looked angry but more suprised. What the hell were you doing out here alone? Master did say he had to be nice to you so he had no choice but to let you lay beside him and look at the clouds. Sanemi looked at you and grumbled in annoyance. You babbled happily and started pointing at the clouds. If nobody said you were a demon he wouldn't even know.

Everything was fine until you got really hot and started breathing heavily. You didn't want him to get mad at you so you didn't tell him. But eventually he noticed how much you were sweating and the teara that were starting to come down your face.

"Oi brat-"

He got cut off as you started sobbing as your skin started turning red some parts of your skin starting to burn off a bit.

"SHIT!"

Sanemi quickly picked you up and ran into the estate laying you on his bed. You held in your cries not wanting to bother him but the pain was unbearable that a few sobs did escape your lips. Sanemi realized this frowning to himself.

"I'll be right back I need go get the bandages and cream for your burns"

You nodded and Sanemi quickly went to grab what you needed and came back. He quickly put the cream on your arms and legs and wrapped them quickly.

"Hwurt" you cried as he bandaged the last place on your arm.

"I know but you'll regenerate anyway so stop complaining"

You nodded sadly and looked down at your lap. He thought maybe he was being a bit too hard on you. I mean sometimes you didn't even regenerate in a day. You were really weak compared to other demons.

"I go now thank you salami"

A tick mark appeared on his forhead when you left through the door taking an umbrella with you.

'She said I was fucking salami and stole my umbrella?!'

When you got back you were in trouble. Shinobu grounded you from going outside on your own and Misturi was begging Shinobu to go easy on you but she didn't back down.

[munsonology]

sav maybe its cause I'm like super horny tonight but:

Perv!BestFriend!Eddie. He can't help thinkkng of you as slightly more innocent then him. Of course it isnt that you don't do anything (or maybe you haven't), but you stay at home more often than not whilst Eddie goes out to the bar to play with the band. Eddie would go to high school parties dealing, whilst you would much rather go see a movie or stay home reading a book. He suspects you haven't done much but isnt sure, which is why he always brings up his escapades.

He has mentioned things he's done with girls (and maybe a few guys) and you haven't really mentioned much. He likes to watch you fidget and squirm, clenching your thighs together subconsciously. The way he can tell you are flustered without blushing, makes his heart skip a beat. But you're best friends!! It's okay!! To tell each other!! And hey!! You're best friends!! Let's talk about kinks!! Totally fine!!

So one day you come in to his room, sit on HIS bed, and are like "okay so we are best friends right?" Which he scoffs and rolls his eyes at, DUH of course you are! No one else would willingly hang out with "the freak". You go on to mention how you went on a date- his brain stops. You never mentioned a date. Now he's flustered and interrupting every two seconds "uh best friends don't keep secrets what the fuck". "Well I wasnt sure if it would work out, so I didnt want to mention it". Eddie may be a little pissed but you distract him by saying "I need a favor." "Sorry sweets, can't go on the run for murder again". You roll his eyes and grab his hand, staring deep into his eyes as you say," yeah no, don't need that, but Kyle said I was a terrible kisser snd I want to be better so can you please teach me how to kiss?"

Which is the last thing Eddie expects but of course he will teach you how to kiss!! Only best friends get that honor right?! And hey, let's teach you how to give a hickey too! And maybe once you start grinding on him subconsciously, he'll help teach you how to make a guy feel real good with his mouth

(not that you had any intention for this to turn out such a way I mean cmon its not like you've had a crush on the guy and had gotten off to the thought of him before)

OH MY GOD!!! Bestie your mind has me 🤯 one of my fav types of fics is the character teaching reader sexual things. There’s a fic on a03 I never saved and it was the first Eddie fic i ever read last summer and like the talent on this app, it was a MASTERPIECE! I can’t remember who wrote it tho 😭

The chipotle people hooked my bowl all the way up and now I got the itis so apologies if this is all over the place 😭

I feel like since season 4 came out everyone on this app has synced and we’re all horny at the same time 😭 i can’t be the only one who noticed

But back to you! I love pervy bff Eddie too! I think he assumes you aren’t interested in sex because he doesn’t see you with anyone or talk about sex as openly as he does. And it could be because no one is Eddie and it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else. So you focus on other things like school, your hobbies, etc

But when you go out on a date with Kyle (I giggled at this because there’s always a Kyle at school that does the most questionable shit 😭 was it just my schools??) Eddie loses his shit at the lunch table. He had to hear it in the hallway outside mrs. O’Donnell’s class so he couldn’t pay attention the entire class.

And suddenly you’re bringing this Kyle around the party. So he starts bringing his conquests around too. And even tells you in full detail how he fucked some girl in the alley behind the hideout or how he got a bj from the hot plumber fixing his neighbor Janice’s sink. It goes on for weeks like this, he watches how your thighs clench when he describes having a jerk off with Chase from the basketball team in the showers after gym and how Mandy from history class squirted all over the van seats (you did question why the floor was a little damp…). Each story is more than the next and eddie drops his pretzels on purpose just to pick them up (super weird for him because you’ve never known him to clean up anything at home!) and under the table what does he see? Sweet little you grinding your pussy and squeezing your thighs on the bench of the cafeteria bench. He notices the tremble when you cum too 😭

But it isn’t until you ask him for help with that peabrain Kyle that he takes the opportunity to show you the ropes of sex. And not just fucking! He shows you how to kiss so good any guy would get hard from just that, and how brushes of the arm can ignite a fire. And it evolves to Eddie showing you how to give bjs and handjobs, and he fingers you, eats your sweet cunt (he’s saving your ass for a later time). It goes like this for months until finally you confess that Kyle ended things after 2 dates. You did all this to be closer to Eddie. And Eddie confesses he was showing you how he likes to be pleased, not other guys and especially not Kyle.

You wanna fuck him now! But he wants to take his time with you. Light candles around your room, scatter roses on the bed, worship your body how it deserves because you’re the goddess of his dreams! And you were right under his nose the entire time.

He’s super sweet when you finally have sex too. Guiding you through your orgasm, holding his until you’ve cum at least three times, cuddling. But in the moments after you ask “teddy can you show me what you like and not what you think I like?”

And this opens the door to every kink that’s ever run through his mind! He eases you into everything but he can’t wait to show you how he really uses those handcuffs! But over time he realizes you’re s freak too 😭 and now y’all can be freaky and nasty together!!!!

Which is what we all want right 😌 at least for meeeee 😭 lol

[minkdelovely]

🗣️ EVEN HIS BONES WERE BETTER THAN OTHER PEOPLE’S.

Oh my gosh Hazel… I can feel how close we’re getting to the BIG WORD and I thought I’d be more prepared but I’m really not… This chapter was the sugar we needed after the last one (even though Ephi is… abrasive, to say the least lmao). Which only makes my love for Ruth more fierce! I loved seeing Autumn just gab with a friend 🥹♥️

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

damn is EVERYTHING out of this girl’s mouth backhanded?? my older sister dominance is itching to draw the line lmao

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty.

this hit me like a fucking train oh my godddd

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

OHHH FUCK I’M TEARING UP 🥲♥️

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again.

LMAOOO yeah I’d wanna avoid Brenda if I could, too

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

HAZEL OH MY GOD 🥲

Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed.

THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT. DAAAAMNNN 😂❤️‍🔥

She nodded enthusiastically,’“Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

Is Ruth one of us, or are we Ruth? Or the “secret” third option: we’re all the ouroboros of desire for Alastor

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

RUTH!! 😂💖 Don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

you need to stop it with this (please don’t stop)

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul shining through his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

THIS ENTIRE THING IS JUST PURE, CONCENTRATED DREAMYYY

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

ONE FEAR! ONE FEAR!! ONE FEAR!!!

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

sighhh I love Ruth 😭✨

But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

ain’t that the fucking truth 😮‍���

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

THIS GORGEOUS, HEART-WRENCHING TEE UP

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

AND THE KNOCK OUT OF THE PARK. GOD DAMNNN

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

I’m trying so hard to hold myself together but you’re making it very difficult my dear 🫠♥️

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

WHAT DID I LITERALLY JUST SAY?? 🥲🫠

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

TEARS ARE BURNING MY EYES AS I TYPE THIS FUUUCKKKK

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

I AM SO FUCKING WEAK… SOOO FUCKING WEAK FOR THIS MAN

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

…you already know this whole thing is too powerful. I don’t even have to say it. Not a single thing…

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

Your melodrama matches my melodrama, Alastor 😭♥️ ughh the baby steps toward confession are agonizing, so thank god for my masochistic streak 💅🏻

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

THE WAY HE’S NOT WRONG THOOO

You hadn’t made him run after all for you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

you are really tapping into some of my deep-seeded needs, JESUS CHRISTTT

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

I REALLY FUCKING CAN’T WITH YOU HAZEL — I AM A MESS

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

to quote an icon: I’LL REMEMBER YOU ALL IN THERAPY

A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find our estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman. 

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm. 

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming. 

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her? 

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.” 

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction. 

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that. 

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock. 

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her. 

“Love” her. 

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move. 

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door. 

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response. 

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.” 

“Oh hey!” 

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill. 

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers. 

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin. 

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up. 

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back. 

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off. 

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms. 

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.” 

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners. 

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!” 

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine. 

Yes, he was a man. 

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before. 

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

And did that matter at all? 

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words. 

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours. 

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant. 

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens? 

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely. 

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge. 

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe. 

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful. 

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others. 

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.  

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below. 

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. 

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you write a teen!reader who goes to Circus Baby’s Pizza World a lot (to the point where they’re considered a regular and are recognized by employees). One time when they visit though some other teens who were dragged along by their younger siblings or something see reader there and start to bully them, because “why are you willingly hangout out here?” Funtime Freddy sees this though and recognizes reader, so he scares away the bully’s and comforts reader? Thanks :))

Circus Baby’s Pizza World was like a home to you.

Of course, it was a place more for toddlers and little children than teens. Usually people your age were at the arcade or skipping school to goof off around town.

But not you. You loved this place and all its fun characters! The Funtimes were more intelligent than they seemed, with personalities as colorful as their appearances. Funtime Freddy and Bonbon grew to be your favorites, and you made sure they knew this every time you visited.

Both of them were great storytellers, making up the silliest of tales to keep kids entertained.

To be fair they were entertaining to you, too.

So when you walked through the doors of the circus-themed pizzeria, you were eager to head straight to Funtime Auditorium.

“Hi, [y/n]!” One of the janitors waved to you. “Off to the auditorium, I see?”

“Same as always. Just making one little pit stop at the drinks.” You laughed and waved back to him. He was always such a polite guy.

At the food and drink counter, the cashier immediately recognized you and got your favorite drink, assuring you it’s on the house. It was really sweet how many of the employees here recognized your face.

Probably because you’re the only teen who hasn’t walked through the doors complaining about this kiddish place.

Speaking of which..

“C’moonnnn I wanna see Foxy!!”

“You don’t need me to hold your hand! You know where it is.”

“Can’t we just ditch your brother?”

“No. Mom would kill me.”

“Yeah, my mom would too--hey isn’t that the kid who’s here everyday?”

Blinking, you looked over at the two teens who walked in--or rather were dragged in here by their siblings--and spotted you at one of the tables. As the younger kids scampered off, they approached you.

“You’re [y/n], right? We hear your name all the time.”

“Yep. That’s me, hi.” You greeted politely, only for one of them to sneer and smack your drink off the table, causing it to spill. “Hey! What gives?!”

“You actually like hanging out at this place? With those creepy ass clown robots? What’s wrong with you?” The other interrogated.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Now they were starting to get on your nerves. They approached you totally unprovoked. “Last time I checked, there’s no crime in coming here by myself.”

“Your only crime is being a fucking loser-”

“H-Hey, friends! If you’re not gonna use nice language, we’ll have to ask you to leave!”

The teens turned around to see Funtime Freddy looming over them with an eerie smile. You blinked in surprise, wondering how you didn’t hear him coming at all.

Thank god he showed up just in time to save the day.

The teen who spilled your drink just scowled at the bear. “What are you, their boyfriend? Piss off you stupid bear.”

“....Bonbon, they called me stupid! What shall we do?!!”

“I say we teach them a lesson.” The blue rabbit puppet whispered to his companion, before looking back at them with a frown. “This is your last chance to apologize to my pals Freddy and [y/n]! We aren’t responsible for any terror you may experience with our next trick!”

“Terror?! Holy shit--ahahaha!!”

“What’re you gonna do to terrorize us?! Juggle?!”

“No..this.” Funtime Freddy’s voice became unusually horse and glitched, which silenced the duo’s laughter.

Then he growled as his faceplates popped open all at once. His eyebrows slanted into a menacing scowl, which rivaled Bonbon’s own deep frown. Both of their eyes glowed a bit brighter, staring deep into the souls of your bullies.

“This is our favorite trick-k-~” He giggled in that same voice. “Wanna play with us forever and ever and ever-?”

But the teens soon ran out of the pizzeria screaming, shoving past each other in a desperate attempt to get away.

As soon as they were out the door, Funtime Freddy grinned victoriously.

“F-Freddy?”

Turning to you, he saw how you flinched in shock, dropping the smile as all his faceplates shifted back in place, hiding his endoskeleton. He pouted and knelt down. “Are you okay, buddy? Sorry we scared you. W-We aren’t usually allowed to do that in front of guests but we saw them being meanies and-!”

“Oh no, it’s okay! I was just surprised. I-I never knew you guys had that kind of..”trick” with the shifty face.” You made gestures around your face, eventually putting your hands back down as you sighed, thinking over what those two teens said. “Is..it alright if I hang out here by myself? Am I too old?”

“Whaaat? No way! Seeing you is the best part of our day!!”

“That’s right!” Bonbon nodded in agreement. “Circus Baby’s is for all ages!” He reached over to pat you on the head, which made you smile.

“You’re right. I bet they’re only jealous that I don’t feel embarrassed to come here. But thank you guys.” Feeling much better, you opened your arms up. “Can I get a hug from my favorite Funtimes?”

“Of course!!” Funtime Freddy beamed as he gently hugged you, not minding the spilled drink. “One hug for our best friend!!”

[inkykeiji]

do i make you scared? baby won’t you take me back

characters: dabi | todoroki touya, shigaraki tomura

genre: smut with a bit of angst sprinkled over it

notes: the second part of a companion piece to i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back. i’m really not kidding when i say this is almost entirely smut. uhhh virgin!tomura is a nasty nasty boy, please please please heed the warnings and stay safe! <3 | title credit: save that shit by lil peep

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), non-consensual branding (yes, branding in the sense that something is being burned into the skin), noncon/dubcon, dacryphilia, cheating, degradation/dumbification, emotional manipulation, cumplay/snowballing, cockwarming, size difference, generally toxic relationships

words: 7.1k

synopsis:

“Was it good?” he seethes, eyes narrowed sharply. You think you might be able to detect a hint of distress sown into his voice, but you have no time to meditate on the thought as he yanks again, pulling your head back further. “Was it worth it?”

Glistening tears stream down your cheeks and you exhale harshly through your nose, teeth gritted as you urgently try to stop crying.

“Fucking answer me,” he growls out the words, but he sounds almost…desperate? You’ve never heard his voice like this before, and it’s then that it finally dawns on you.

You got him back.

      ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          

To your surprise, you spend the rest of your night the day after the party texting Tomura, and every time your screen lights up with a message from him, it sends a whole flock of butterflies fluttering in your tummy. You should feel guilty, really, but you’ve never been in a situation like this before and it’s…exhilarating.

It’s risky, answering these texts when Touya’s a mere few feet from you, but it sends sparks shooting up your spine, the idea of getting caught doing something you’re definitely not supposed to, the very thought of how upset he’d be if he knew, making you feel giddy.

You guard your phone closely for the rest of the week, deleting messages exactly after you send them—Touya has taken it and gone through it in the past, so it wasn’t far-fetched to think he may try to do the same thing again. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice your nose in your phone, little giggles bubbling up from your chest as you responded to whatever was on the screen. You can see it in his eyes, the frustration building each and every time a soft laugh escapes your lips, eyes glimmering as you tap out a response.

You plan your impending visit strategically, in tandem with Tomura. He knows Touya’s unpredictable and seemingly ever-changing schedule better than you do, and you both know that there’s absolutely no way in hell Touya would ever willingly let you hang out with each other—he barely leaves the two of you alone when Tomura comes over to your house, so you can only imagine how livid he’d be if you even asked to go spend some time with him, just the two of you.

You wear your prettiest dress—Touya’s favourite dress, a deep, satiny crimson—two inches too short to be considered proper, the hem brushing your midthigh. It hides a pair of baby pink cotton panties you’re sure Tomura will like.

Your veins thrum with the combined mix of terror and anticipation as he lets you in, and the heady combination has your entire body trembling. Tomura gives you a look as you kick your shoes off, eyes narrowed as they scan your body.

“You comin’ down or something?”

“I-I’m not allowed drugs,” you admit meekly, eyes falling to your feet, toes wiggling a bit.

Tomura snorts, an amused little smirk on his lips as he mutters, “No, of course not,”

Long, slender fingers wrap around your wrist, his cold touch making you jump, giving a slight yank as he begins leading you. He lives alone, in an apartment his father pays for—which is surprisingly much tidier than you expected—and you can’t help but look around curiously, eager to learn more about him, glazed eyes searching for hints in the empty takeout containers littering the counter, in the few articles of clothing strewn around the place.

Brows knit together when he bypasses his bedroom completely—the door wide open to reveal a large bed with blue sheets tangled at the bottom—and leads you to a living room with plush couches and an ornate rug you’re positive he didn’t pick out by himself. His fingers release, and he plops down on the floor, hands curling around a gaming controller. Scarlet eyes drift to you, up your legs and to your face, and you resist the urge to shiver under his intense gaze—you’re sure he can see straight up your dress from this angle.

But he does nothing except look at you expectantly, not breaking his stare until you finally sit down next to him, daintily tucking your knees under yourself.

Then he’s shoving an extra controller at you almost aggressively, the sudden motion pulling a gasp from your throat, making you flinch away.

“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, pushing the controller at you again and shaking it a little in his hand, trying to entice you to take it. “I’m not gonna hurt you, or anything,”

“You…You’re—what?”

Tomura observes you carefully, scrutinizing now, eyes narrowing a little as they scan your face. You stare back at him dumbly, lips slightly parted. “What?” he snaps.

“But I thought—I mean, I want you to—”

“What?”

“That came out wrong,” you rush to say, shutting your eyes tightly in embarrassment. “What I mean is…Um, didn’t I come over so we can like, fuck?” your cheeks burn as you force the words out, ears ringing as blood rushes to your face, so loud you almost miss his sharp intake of breath.

Tomura’s eyes widen and he stares at you for a long moment before he checks his phone, scrolling through your messages. “You said…You wanted to play video games?”

You look at him, blinking in astonishment. “And you believed that?”

Tomura frowns a little, eyebrows knitting, slightly defensive. “Well, yeah?”

You’re at a loss for words as you stare back at the man sitting cross-legged in front of you, watching you closely. This is the guy Touya so desperately didn’t want you to be around?

Powerless to stop the little giggle that bubbles up in your throat, you inch towards him on your knees. “You’re kinda cute, y’know?”

Soft notes of tiger orchid and sweet sticky toffee waft over him, your body heat clinging to his skin as you settle beside him, thigh touching his knee. He seethes at you, and his fingers twitch around the controller, a hand moving to rake his nails against his neck.

You reach out, little fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling it away from his flesh.

“Do you want to?” you ask softly, gazing at him through your lashes, bringing his palm to rest over your breast.

“Are you stupid?” he spits, fingers instantly tightening the moment they meet satin, the strength of his grip making you gasp. “Of course I fucking want to. Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off to you? Christ,”

Warmth blossoms in your chest at the confession, sparking a dull heat that begins to spread deep in the pit of your stomach. You’re flattered, even though you can hear Touya’s voice in the back of your mind, sharp and condescending, reprimanding you for being so easy.

“Yeah? What did you think about?” Your voice quivers a little as you ask the question, but that doesn’t stop his ruby eyes from darkening, his free hand dropping the controller to shamelessly rub at the bulge in his jeans.

“How cute your little cunt must be, how sweet it’d taste, how good those lips would feel wrapped around my cock as I fuck your throat,” his voice drops an octave as he speaks, low and dangerous as he kneads your breast hard—too hard, but adrenaline keeps the pain from registering.

He’s reaching for you now, pale hands pawing at your hips and dragging you over, forcing you to straddle his lap. A soft whimper falls from your lips as he instantly begins rolling his hips up, like he can’t bear to wait, fingers digging into your flesh as they hold you in place.

Neither can you, apparently, because you begin wiggling a little in his grasp, trying in vain to rut against him.

“You’re a little whore, huh? Even with a virgin, you can’t help but grind on a hard cock,” he smirks, lips at your ear. “A hard cock’s a hard cock I guess, makes no difference to you, greedy little slut,”

A mewl escapes your throat as you nod, hips pushing forcefully against his, grinding your little cunt against rough denim.

Wait, virgin?

“A v-virgin?”

“Yeah, lucky you,”

His words taper off into a growl, vibrating in his chest, hands leaving your waist to cup your jaw and roughly pull your face to his, lips crashing into yours. You emit a soft, startled noise into his mouth, and he swallows it greedily, tongue forcing its way through your parted lips and into your mouth, commanding your own tongue into submission almost instantaneously.

It’s nothing like kissing Touya. Your body follows your tongue, melting into him. Fingers grip your jaw, pressing crescent indents into the skin as he guides your head to exactly where he wants it to go.

It isn’t romantic. It’s harsh, and desperate, a mess of teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. A hand tangles in your hair and pulls, forcing your head back and revealing your arched neck to him. His lips trail down the column of your throat, leaving wet, sloppy kisses in their wake.

“I wanna fuck you already,” he whines a little, aggressively thrusting against your clothed core. You moan out an affirmative noise, nodding.

“One rule,” you breathe out.

“Hmm? And what’s that?” his lips are against your neck, tongue painting it in glistening saliva with slow, languid strokes.

“No marks,” you yelp out just as his teeth sink into your skin. It stings, Tomura keeping his mouth latched onto your neck for a few seconds, teeth buried in the soft flesh. His tongue laves over the mark before pulling away completely, and a shiver crawls up your spine as the bite is exposed to the cool air.

He’s giggling into your shoulder, nipping at the skin superficially. “Oops,”  

“Tomura!” you whine, making no effort to pull his lips from your neck. “Touya’s going to murder me,”

He laughs again, pulling back and rolling his eyes. “And, what? He isn’t already going to kill you for fucking someone else?”

There isn’t a moment to respond, though, not a second to try and explain how weird Touya gets about marks in particular, because then he’s crushing his lips to yours again, hard, fervent, bruising.

“Gonna cum soon if you don’t fucking do something,” he practically snarls into your mouth.

The very thought of Tomura cumming in his pants just from a few minutes of dry humping makes your entire stomach flutter, a flash of pure confidence surging in your chest as involuntary words tumble from your mouth.

“Oh?” you murmur, breath hot against his lips. “Something? Like this?” you begin gyrating your hips in tiny, quick circles, giggling at the groan you rip from his throat.

And Tomura hates how fucking innocent you sound, gazing at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips and a sinful little smile.

“Stop,” it’s supposed to be a command, an order, but it comes out as a broken whine, his hands latching onto your hips again as he forces you to move even faster, rocking into you.

“Doesn’t feel like you want me to stop,” you pout a little and he huffs out a curse.

It’s intoxicating, to be in a position of power like this. It isn’t your favourite—you’re much too shy and indecisive to be in a role like this all the time—but the novelty of it excites you nonetheless. Touya never lets you do anything like this, hates being teased with a passion, but Tomura seems to enjoy it, like it’s some sort of game to him.

“Little bitch,” he breathes out, though his forehead is resting against yours, eyes shut, soft grunts spilling from his throat.

“C’mon, Tomura,” you whimper, and now it sounds like you’re the one begging. “Make a mess in your pants for me? P-Pretty please?”

That’s all it takes to have his hips stilling, fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he grips you tightly, holding you in place and forcing you to grind against him ever-so-slightly as his cock throbs and twitches in his jeans.

You expect him to push you off immediately after, to shout and berate you for such behaviour, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans back against the bottom of the couch, arms encircling your waist and bringing you with him.

It must be uncomfortable, to sit in those soiled jeans filled with cum, but he doesn’t seem to care, more interested in exploring your mouth with his tongue as you kiss lazily. You don’t mind, although your clit is aching and swollen, pussy fluttering around nothing every so often as his fingers explore your body, kneading your ass and tweaking nipples, your panties soaked all the way through and sticking to you unpleasantly.

And it’s due to this that your hips still manage to rock against his in minuscule movements that are more teasing than anything else, little micro-circles that have your drenched cunt grinding gently against wet denim.

It seems he has an impossibly short refraction period because, before long, his cock’s hard again, pressing up into your clothed hole. You whimper his name into his mouth and he breaks the kiss, lips red and puffy, shining with saliva.  

“Take my cock out,” he instructs, voice stern despite his slight breathlessness. You crawl off his lap and do as your told, popping the button, tugging the zipper down and pulling at the waistband of his jeans. He lifts his hips just enough to aid you in dragging them down to his thighs, cock springing free.

“Clean it up,”

It’s covered in cum, so much cum—too much cum, more than is normal—glistening in the low light of the living room. It twitches a little under your gaze, as if to say get on with it already, so you wrap a hand around the base and bring the head to your lips.

You start with kitten licks, tongue tracing around the head and playing with the slit, pulling a deep, throaty moan from him.

“Don’t—Don’t swallow it,” he rasps. “Clean me up and keep all my cum in your mouth,”

It’s difficult—his cum is much more bitter than Touya’s, and you gag a few times as it settles on your tongue, marinating in your mouth. You try your best to hold it in your cheeks and away from your tastebuds, working as quickly as possible as you lap it up, gazing up at him with teary eyes when you’re finished.

“What a good girl,” he spits in a patronizing tone, like it’s an insult. “Kiss me,”

It’s a demand you have no choice but to obey, a hand rooting in your hair and yanking you up to face him.

He all but smashes your lips together, fingers still wrapped tightly in your hair, holding you in place. His tongue forces its way through your lips and you greet it eagerly, desperate to get his cum out of your mouth.

Except he doesn’t let you pull away after you’ve passed the majority of his cum to him, the bitter taste still stinging your tongue. No, he uses the fist tangled in your hair to keep you still as he shoves his tongue into your mouth again, transferring the cum—now watered down a little with his saliva—into the warm cavern yet again.

You whine, and he chuckles, lips spreading into a grin against yours.

“Swallow it,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to watch your expression as you force it down your throat, face souring, eyes squeezed shut as your lips pucker just a little. “Open, lemme see,”

Your mouth falls open obediently, little droplets of water clinging to your lashes as you gaze up at him, waiting for approval.

“Good,” he practically purrs, eyes darkening as his fingers caress your face. “Now I want to fuck you,”

You’re nodding, but he doesn’t give you a moment to respond, beginning to manhandle you into the position he wants before he’s even finished speaking. The oriental rug is soft against your cheek as he presses your face to the ground, hands curling around your hips as he hoists them up.

“What cute little panties,” he breathes, dragging a finger along your clothed slit before yanking the material down to your knees.

It stings a little as he practically shoves his cock into your sopping cunt, not bothering to stretch you out—you’re not even sure if he knows he’s supposed to—but you’re wet enough that the breach is relatively easy, and the burning fades quickly as your little hole adjusts to the girth of his cock.

He begins thrusting immediately, and he’s rough, overeager, uncoordinated, the vicious snaps of his hips uneven and sloppy.

Truthfully, he’s only using you as a hole the first time, but you don’t mind—not really, anyway. Blazing sapphire sears through your mind, and you think about how furious Touya would be if he knew, if he could see the way you’re degrading yourself, letting yourself be reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for a nasty virgin to desperately hump away at, sacrificing your own pleasure for his.

Touya would never.

To Touya, making you cum is half the fun. He gets a rush from it, gets high off the way you go absolutely fucking stupid from his fingers and cock, how quickly he can turn your brain to soup, rendering you a dumb little blabbering mess only capable of whining out the words niichan and Touya-nii. It feeds his ever-growing ego.

But Tomura is eager to please in a different way. He’s more selfish than Touya, sure, but he’s keen to learn all he can, curious and committed.

And, once he finally gets the hang of it, confident, too.

His thrusts gain more finesse as he fucks you, but he’s unable to keep up any steady rhythm, the tight fluttering of your pussy every time he grazes a specific spot inside of you making his hips stutter, forcing needy, guttural groans from his throat.

He cums quick—not that you expect any less from a virgin—with a deep growl of your name that has your stomach swooping, cunt throbbing around him again as he fills you with thick, burning cum.

You’re exhausted by the end of it, abused body melting into the lush carpet as your cunt throbs desperately, his cum slowly oozing out of it. Tomura snorts as he looks down at you, gentle hands tugging your panties down the rest of your legs and removing them completely, discarding them a few feet away.

“Up you go,” he’s murmuring as hands snake under your armpits and haul you up. You mumble his name and he hushes you, collapsing heavily on the couch with you still in his arms. Strong hands manhandle you into straddling his lap again, leaking pussy pressed against his softening cock.

The television hums to life, quiet main menu music floating through the room as the soft clicking of buttons sounds behind you.

You should go home now. You know you should. You’ve done what you came here to do, and now you should be leaving.

Should, should, should.

But Tomura’s so warm, and you’re so tired, muscles aching despite the fact that he did most of the work.

“Rest,” he instructs quietly when you begin to whine into his neck, fingers preoccupied with unwrapping a piece of watermelon bubblegum.

He’s so much softer than you expected—disgusting, but soft—and you can’t believe you spent months being terrified of him. You know this is probably the last time you’ll be able to see him in a long time—a fact that produces an inexplicable ache deep in your chest—so you allow yourself bask in the moment, just for a little, you promise yourself.

You obey his gentle command, snuggling up against him and permitting yourself to drift in and out of consciousness to the sound of aliens being killed and aggressive button smashing.

But then something hard is poking you—you aren’t sure how long you’ve been sitting here for now, long enough for Tomura to power through a few matches, at least—and that blistering heat flares again, beginning to coil tight in your tummy.

You shift a little, an involuntary whine slipping from your lips.

“What is it?” Tomura asks, eyes never straying from the screen, fingers never pausing. “You wanna sit on my cock, baby?”

Christ, yes. You mumble into his shoulder, nodding and rolling your hips in response.

He chuckles—a low, quiet sound rattling around in his chest—and allows you to sink down on him again, captivated by the soft moan you emit as you do so, crimson eyes gleaming and breathing slightly laboured.

“Ah, fuck,” he mutters when his avatar on the screen gets shot, redirecting his attention.

And it’s…it’s nice. Surprisingly nice. He’s cozy, and comfy, his breathing slow and even with every rise of his chest, despite the alien shrieks coming from the TV behind you. He smells like cheap cigarettes and artificial watermelon with just a hint of cedarwood, and you inhale deeply, letting the scent fill your lungs.

Touya rarely lets you cockwarm him; Touya doesn’t have the patience, Touya doesn’t have the time. You fall into a state halfway between asleep and awake, hips rocking against Tomura just enough to keep him hard, just enough to have you whimpering into his neck.

He could get used to this, he tells you. The confession is soft, a private little thought that just kinda slips out, mindlessly falling from his lips, but you could, too, you think.

It’s intimate, which is odd, considering you barely know him, used to be frightened of him. But it’s such a refreshing contrast to Touya’s intense, scalding flame.

Eventually, though, it isn’t enough, the teasing’s too much, and you need more.

Gazing up at him with glittering eyes, you begin to trail your lips up his neck, over his self-inflicted scars, slowly, hesitantly.

He inhales sharply, jumping a little in surprise, and you freeze, terrified you might’ve overstepped some invisible boundary you were not previously aware of.

“Keep going,” he whines, a little petulantly, hips wiggling against yours.

Lips resuming their ministrations, you place gentle, chaste kisses up the column of his throat and along his jaw, delighting in each soft sigh you manage to pull from him. The game playing on the TV suddenly halts, Tomura throwing the controller on the couch cushion next to you before large hands cup your face in a tender way you did not think him capable of.

Your mouths slot together, kissing messily, saliva glistening on your chins as you pass his watermelon gum back and forth between yourselves. It’s kinda gross, kinda filthy, juvenile and sloppy, but it’s fun, has the two of you giggling into each other’s mouths, a little breathless from it all.

“Wanna ride you,” you murmur, almost shyly, against his slippery lips.

“Yeah?” he rasps, just barely bouncing you in his lap. “You wanna use my cock to get off?”

“Yes, please,” the plead comes out as a pathetic whimper, and you squirm impatiently.

Finally, finally you get to cum. In this position, you have leverage over the angle of your hips, able to situate yourself just right, so his cockhead nudges exactly where you want it to.

He does nothing this time, just leans back and watches you with those dark, half-lidded scarlet eyes, hands idly exploring your thighs, occasionally raking his nails down them. He’s in a trance as he gazes at you, mesmerized by the way your eyes are starting to roll back, by the way each drag of his cock against that spot has you keening, by the way his name leaves your lips in broken little whines that have him gasping in response.

Your hips speed up, and you’re desperate, so desperate to cum, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders through his thin t-shirt.

“Gonna—” he starts, breathless. “Gonna cum?”

You nod a little frantically as eager hips rock against him, his hands finally finding your waist and helping you move.

“Please,” he whimpers. “Wanna feel you,”

And it’s his begging that does it, that finally sends you over the edge, pussy clenching around him, convulsing almost painfully and gushing on his cock with a sharp cry of his name. He follows immediately after, painting your insides with hot cum as a curse hitches in his chest.

Your body collapses against him, going pliant and boneless as you both pant. Everything feels heavy—you haven’t had an orgasm that intense in a while—and the absolute last thing you want to do is get up and walk home.

Tomura can sense it. He can feel it in the way your fingers are knotting in his t-shirt, in the way your hips try to scoot forward, chest pressed against his tightly, and he wraps an arm around you, trying to keep you close for just a minute more.

Silence blankets the room as the two of you calm your breathing. You’ve been anticipating a certain sense of awkwardness to finally wash over you all night, but it never comes. Instead, it’s pleasant, and you hum a little, nuzzling your face into Tomura’s shoulder as skinny fingers brush through your hair.

“I don’t wanna go,” you say, and it’s so quiet, muffled by the material of his shirt, that he barely hears it. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to.

“Just stay,” he mumbles, resting his chin atop your head. “Text your dad some bullshit, or whatever,”

You want to. You’re surprised at how much you desperately want to.

“Touya will kill me,”

“Touya’s gonna kill ya either way, sweetheart,”

You suppose that’s true. Neither of you tricked yourselves into thinking that you’d actually get away with this. Touya will know the moment he sees you, will probably be able to smell Tomura all over you, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care, not in that moment, not when Tomura’s so comfy and you’re so sleepy and it’s all just nice.

Good, you think. It’s about time he gets a taste of how much stuff like this hurts.

And so you find yourself crawling into his bed, in one of his t-shirts, with bruises in the shape of his fingertips rapidly blossoming, heat seeping into your cheeks when he tells you he thinks you look cute in his clothes.

He latches onto you the moment you’ve settled into his mattress, long arms encircling your waist and dragging you towards him. One of your legs slots between his, and you have to stifle a giggle.

“Hard again, Tomura?”

“Shut up,” he says, no heat to his voice. “Can’t help it,”

His words echo your own, three simple words you’ve said so many times to Touya, and you feel a pang in your chest.

“Not my fault you’re too hot,” he continues, grumbling into your neck.

Honestly, you didn’t peg him as a cuddler, and maybe he isn’t—maybe he just wants to grind and hump against your thigh—but you welcome the warmth of his body nonetheless.

It doesn’t bother you, although it probably should, as he ruts against you, tiny broken moans and high, breathy whines being exhaled against your neck. But it’s so new, all of this is so new to you, and curiosity clouds your better judgement. While you’re pretty sure you should be shoving him away, reprimanding him for such behaviour, positive that’s what any normal person would do, you don’t. Little fingers thread in his hair instead, carding through silvery-blue fluffy tufts, reveling in the groan it pulls from him.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum, thick and sticky in his boxers, the material wet against your thigh. You’re impressed, both by how easily he cums, and how much he cums. You want to tell him, want to tease him about it a little, let him know you think it’s cute, but heavy, hazy fatigue begins to wash over you, and you fall asleep to Tomura’s soft breaths mingled with the sound of you phone buzzing, over and over and over again.

       ✰          ✰          ✰  

Your phone’s dead when you wake sometime in the early afternoon, and for that, you’re thankful. Anxiety floods your stomach, bubbling up in your chest acidly as you think about what’ll be waiting for you when you recharge it.

Tomura walks you to the door, which you find to be very odd behaviour, but sweet nonetheless, and watches carefully as you slip on your shoes.

“Uh, text me later, okay?” He sounds unsure for the first time since you’ve been with him, and your expression softens.

“I will, if Touya doesn’t take my phone away,”

And you pretend to miss the look on his face, the way his eyebrows knit as a hand comes to scratch idly at his neck, the way he looks almost worried. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

       ✰          ✰          ✰  

He knows. The moment you step foot through the front door, he knows.

You knew he would, but it doesn’t make the glare scathing your skin any less terrifying.

He’s on you in an instant—you didn’t even know humans could move that fast—pinning you to the drywall, large hands wrapped around your wrists and forcing them above your head, keeping you trapped.

“You little slut,”

Unexpected anger flares in your chest, even though tears are already beginning to collect in your eyes, and you squirm in his grasp.

“I fuck one other person, and I’m the slut?”

You gasp the moment the words leave your lips, wide eyes searching his face and shaking your head frantically, would slap your hands over your mouth if they weren’t currently secured in his bruising grip against the wall.

The look he gives you is absolutely petrifying, blue eyes darker than the ocean—so dark they almost look black—his stare cold and hard as stone, sending sharp spikes of ice up your spine.

“You fucking reek of him,” he spits, face screwing up in disgust. You’re sure you do, too, after spending a good twelve hours in his bed, almost positive you can smell him in your hair, the remnants of cheap cigarettes and artificial watermelon clinging to you.

Patronizing eyes rake over you, zeroing in on the violet that’s bloomed on your neck. His nostrils flare as he stares at it, breath beginning to come in rapid, uneven huffs. His eyes slowly drift back to yours, an unreadable expression settling on his face.

It’s shock, and disbelief, and rage, and…and sadness? It passes too quickly for you to even tell, and then he’s pulling your wrists down callously, still gathered in his hand, and dragging you towards his room.

He all but throws you on his bed face first, breathing harsh and erratic as he exhales forcefully through his nose and climbs on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. A large hand wraps itself in your hair and tugs, forcing your upper body to arch.

“Was it good?” he seethes, eyes narrowed sharply. You think you might be able to detect a hint of distress sown into his voice, but you have no time to meditate on the thought as he yanks again, pulling your head back further. “Was it worth it?”

Glistening tears stream down your cheeks and you exhale harshly through your nose, teeth gritted as you urgently try to stop crying.

“Fucking answer me,” he growls out the words, but he sounds almost…desperate? You’ve never heard his voice like this before, and it’s then that it finally dawns on you.

You got him back. Sure, he’s furious beyond belief, looks like he could kill you right here, right now, with his bare fucking hands—but he’s also extremely upset, if the slight quiver present in his voice is any indication.

“Yes,” you wheeze out. If it made him feel even an ounce of the emotional turmoil he’s put you through with his whores, then yes, it was absolutely worth it.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” his voice is low, threatening, calm. It’s disturbing, how quickly he can switch, and a chill of unease settles deep in your bones—once Touya stops with his growls and snarls, once his voice becomes monotonous and almost serene in a way, that’s when you know he’s really angry.

Shoving your head down into the mattress, he tells you to stay fucking put as he gets up and wanders over to his desk. He returns to the bed moments later with a tool that vaguely resembles a pen, hand tangling in your hair again as he pulls you up.

“You know what this is?”

You shake your head as best you can.

“It’s a soldering iron,” his voice is still composed and collected, sounding almost as if he’s explaining something to a child, but there’s a malevolent glint in his eye, a look you’ve never seen before. “It gets really, really hot. I just so happened to be warming one on my desk,”

He says it so nonchalantly, as if this is an object one would regularly keep in their bedroom or on their desk.

“It’s not supposed to be used on skin,” he shrugs a little, twirling the tool between his fingers. “But today, I think we’ll make an exception,”

“What?”

“Head down, ass up,” he instructs sternly, pushing your head into his pillows.

“Touya, wait—” you start, the rest of your sentence muffled by the sheets. His hand gives one firm shove—a warning to stay down—and then he begins shuffling around on the bed.

Careful to keep your cheek pressed hard against the pillow, you turn your head just enough to speak.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Your voice is trembling, thick with tears, dense anxiety building in your chest.

“I’m going to burn my name into your pretty little ass,” he responds simply as he positions himself behind you, yanking your panties midway down your thighs and sitting back on his heels. “A nice, pretty, permanent mark so you, and everyone else, never forget who you fucking belong to,”

“No!” you gasp, beginning to lift your head only to have him force it back into the pillow with a snarl. “No, Tou—niichan, I-I’ll do anything, please—”

“No, no, no, baby,” he says over your senseless babbling, voice almost gentle, thumb caressing your silky skin. “Don’t squirm, now,” he chides. “If you squirm, my hand might slip, and I might burn other parts of your body. We don’t want that, do we? Be a good girl for niichan and sit still,”

And so you do. You should feel ashamed, pathetic, revolted that he’s able to manipulate you so easily, that he knows exactly how to turn you into putty to be molded and shaped as he pleases, even when he’s about to sear his name into your skin.

It burns unlike anything you’ve ever felt before as he carefully carves his name into the supple flesh, saying the letters out loud as he does so. It’s a unique, stinging-stabbing type of pure agony, one that sends sharp pain radiating up to your lower back and down your thigh.  

Fingers curl in his dark sheets as you sob into his bed—chest-wracking sobs that have your entire body trembling, chest-wracking sobs that you so desperately try to hold back and swallow, to stay still, to be good for your niichan. Touya tells you to be happy, be grateful, that the temperature of his iron goes up so high.

“Otherwise, I would’ve had to go over it several times in order to make it really stick,”

It’s over quickly, though, a mere fifteen minutes later and he’s cleaning it with rubbing alcohol and gently taping thick gauze over it and uses this opportunity to take your panties off entirely.

“Good girl,” he praises as he hoists you up, manhandling you to straddle his spread thighs, careful of your now very sensitive bottom. “You did so good for niichan,”

And you can’t stand the way your heart weakly flutters at his praise. You can’t stand the way you instinctually bury your head in his chest, tiny fists forming in the material of his t-shirt as you wail, can’t stand the way he is still the only one you want comforting you.

His cock is hard through his jeans, and you can feel it pressing into your core as he shifts a little under you. It’s humiliating, but you’re powerless to stop your hips from moving in subtle little circles, grinding your cunt against the rough denim. And he lets you do it for a little, too, tender fingers petting your hair as he soothes your sobs, taming them to little sniffles and hiccups.

“Niichan’s gonna fuck you now, okay?” he asks softly, murmuring against your scalp, voice almost sickly sweet.

It takes you a moment to respond, eventually nodding your head.

A smirk spreads across his lips and he instructs you to get up, tapping the side of your thigh.

You lift yourself, walking back on your knees and giving him enough room to free his aching cock from the confines of his jeans before his hands find your hips again, dragging you back.

“Baby,” he breathes as his fingers spread your folds, his eyes darkening in a manner much different than before. “Already wet for me?”

Cheeks burning with shame, you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, whimpering a little as he pushes a finger into you.

“Don’t tell me,” he gasps tauntingly, voice dripping with artificial surprise. “You didn’t like being branded, did you?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head quickly. No, it wasn’t the branding that did it—not really, anyway. It was the aftercare. It was Touya’s cold hands gently tending to your injured bottom, Touya pulling you into his lap as he praised you and dropped kisses to the crown of your head, Touya getting hard from the punishment, from permanently searing his name into your flesh.

You should be disgusted with yourself, with how eager you are, hips wiggling a little only a few moments later as you whine out softly, “Niichan, cock,”

“Impatient,” he huffs. “Don’t get bratty with me now, you were doing so well,”

A pout forms on your face, still hidden in his shoulder.

“Jus’ want it so bad,” you mumble against him, beginning to slur your words. “Please, Touya-nii?”

He hums to himself, makes you beg just a little bit more, reveling in the way your voice begins to get desperate, all high and needy as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers, whimpering and begging with pathetic little please, niichan?’s.

“Is this how you want it? Huh? Wanna ride niichan?”

Mewling a little, you nod, rolling your hips into his palm.

“Words, sweetheart,”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “W-Wanna ride you,”

Finally, he gives it to you, lets you sink down on his cock, watching the way you wince as it stretches you, expression contradicted by your soft moans.

He forces you to begin bouncing immediately, doesn’t allow you to set the pace—he never does—smirking at those little pained cries spilling from your throat, though whether they’re because his cock or the five letters freshly burned into your skin, he isn’t sure. Maybe both; probably both.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, tone condescending. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, the threat of tears stinging your eyes.

“Yeah? Yeah?” his voice mimics yours, pitched high and whiny. “I bet it fucking does,”

A hand travels down to grope your ass—specifically, the cheek with the brand—squeezing hard as fingers dig into your skin. You cry out, tears finally leaking from your eyes, chest hitching as you sob out, “Touya-nii,”

“Don’t ever do something like that again,” he says in your ear, voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever go fuck another man because you’re mad at me, do you understand?”

Heat begins to coil tightly in your stomach at his smooth, dark voice. “Y-Yes,”

“Promise me,” he growls, grip tightening on your ass.

“I promise,” you’re weeping as he gives one more harsh squeeze, pain scorching through your backside, a loud yelp escaping your lips.

“Bet his cock didn’t feel as good as mine,” he sneers in your ear, panting a little. “Wasn’t as big as mine, didn’t fill you up the way mine does,”

“No, no, no,” you’re chanting in time with his thrusts, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Probably could—” a low groan cuts him off as your pussy flutters around him. “Could never make you cum the way I do,”

A loud whine rips from your throat, your head nodding as he continues his relentless thrusts up into you, never once faltering. Adrenaline and endorphins rush through your veins, high off the heady mixture of pleasure and pain.

“N-Niichan,” you gasp, nails digging into his flesh through the material of his thin t-shirt. “Niichan,”

“Gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna make a mess all over niichan’s cock?” he’s asking breathlessly, slamming into you at a rapid pace and using his thighs for more leverage, hands gripping your hips.

“Uh-huh,”

“Do it, then,” he commands hoarsely. “Cum on your niichan’s cock,”

And you do, helplessly, incapable of disobeying a direct order, creaming so hard your vision blanks for a second, overwhelmed by the extreme, potent mix of pain and pleasure crashing over you.

“Who do you belong to?” Touya’s nearly keening now, hips jackhammering, making your body twitch and shudder with every sharp thrust into your sensitive pussy.

“You,”

“Tell me again,”

“I belong to you, niichan,”

And those five simple words—those five simple words have him cumming hard, hips stilling and cockhead pressed firmly against your cervix, filling your cute little cunt with his seed as broken curses fall from his lips.

You’re both panting, covered in a thin, sheen layer of sweat, your hair sticking to your face and little droplets of tears still glistening on your lash line. He all but collapses back against the bed, taking you with him, cock still buried inside of you.

“And I’m yours,” he whispers into your hair, hugging you tightly—too tightly—to his heaving chest. “I’m yours,”

Laying in his arms, in his bed, with his name burned into your ass, you wonder if you’re destined to play this game for the rest of your lives.

He’s yours.

Are you stuck with him now, forever?

He’s yours.

Will you every get married? Ever get the chance to date someone else?

He’s yours.

Do you even want to?

Laying in his arms, in his bed, with his name burned into your ass, knowing he’s yours, do you even want any of that?

No. With your head resting against his chest, rising and falling with his gentle breaths, slender fingers combing through your sweaty hair, you realize that this is all you want.

He’s yours, and you’re his, and that is enough.

[pufflocks]

Kuroo x bottom male reader, maybe readers riding him?

Summary: Honestly in my mind–, I believe if Kuroo had someone sitting on his cock I believe he would be so touchy. Touchy and impatient— Touching the readers curves and rubbing on his thighs until he couldn't take it anymore. ♡

"You- You are so fucking tight- ugh, I love it." -T.K ❣

Warnings: Slight degrading • Groping • Cum eating • Proof read • porn without plot

Cast: Bottom!M!Reader x Kuroo Tesuro //Kenma Kozumane//

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It was an alluring Friday. Volleyball club didn't have another practice until next week. Leaving an eventful evening afterschool for a certain couple.

"Phew I'm fuckin' exhausted-" Tetsurou exhaled stretching out his long limbs. Many people, according to Y/N would kill for his height. Yet he was always saying how much he hated it. Words only to tick his boyfriend off – which it did.

The rooster haired male slicked back his sweat covered hair. "Oi, kenma I'm gonna head out first since my oh so handsome boyfriend wanted me to take him home early." Kenma nodded quietly, chugging his water down quietly. He gathered his belongings along with the other members of the team.

'I wonder why he needs a chaperone to walk him home..' Kenma sighed. Shaking off the thought since it was not his business. Besides that he started picking up some stray volleyballs. Faster he does this the faster he gets home to play video games with his boyfriend.

You however, was just about to get out of your last period. Thinking about some random things to get out of the fact you and nekomas volleyball captain sending eachother lewd glances throughout the day. One action led to another throughout the day.

You sitting in the back of class softly giggling to yourself once while at your phone and blushing at other texts. Some texts were cute flirts like "I can't wait to see you" or "Coach is being extra angry. He needs pop a chocky milk" Leading to a raging tent in your pants in your last class period when he sent a slick nude of a boner he accumulated in the past hour. Ugh— The clock nearing 3 PM setting you slight edge in your seat.

BRING !

'Thankfully the teacher didn't see me with my phone.'

Sighing tremendously you snatched up your bag that had a cheesy volleyball sticker in nekomas colors with a big number '1' on it. Gifted by your yours truly, Tetsurou Kuroo aka rooster bf. A small nickname you gave him in your guys' first year.

You chuckled at your own humor as you bumped into someone the way out of your classroom.

"Ah-!" You failed to finish your small mental comedy show as your overly tall boyfriend encased you in a nearly bone crushing hug. Lovingly of course.

Your not so obvious erection slightly catching contact on his muscular thigh. "You scared me tetsu- Come on lets go." You grab hold of the mans hand in dire need to fix your lower situation, pronto. One think you hated about your boyfriend was how much of a tease he so unashamedly was.

You both agreed, over text to leave early to do it after class since he didn't have practice today.

"What's the rush doll ? You were just teasing me with that I wanna ride you BS over the phone." He snickered. Face automatically bloomed red as you scoffed in face. Pushy bastard he is.

"Yeah yeah. Come on before people see-" And before you knew it. Your boyfriend took one glace down south to notice you weren't lying. Your small cock pressing up against the unformed pants.

'Cute how eager he is~' he mentally mused.

He took this opportunity to just drag you to an already emptied classroom. The school seemed to empty out earlier on Fridays, you thought. Slowly coming back to your own senses you see just how peckish he really was. Air thickening. Your noticable shudders of arousal not going unnoticed.

"God,, I need you right now." No other words were conversed between you two as he eagerly ripped and tugged the cloth off your smaller frame. Canines slightly nipping at now heated skin and grabbing wherever his hands could easily roam. Sloppy kisses to your neck making you gasp and make your penis twitch in gratitude.

"Please tetsu.. I want it badly~" You moaned wantonly as he was gripping some belly fat lovingly. Tetsurou grinned as if he was a wolf in the night howling at the moon.

Grabbing a nearby chair, after he let you go with a small peck to your nose he sat down and shrugged off his trousers. Hard organ slapping on his lean stomach. The sight making you purr in the presence of this 'wolf'

'I can't wait to fucking ride him..'

The sight of his cock made you rub your legs together eagerly. A small "Hm..~" erupting from your throat. Oh god did it not only have girth and a red bulge of its head – His length and overall cock had been mesmerized in your small pink hole.

"Wanna ride you Tetsu.." you mewled already palming the hard on in your now very tight pants.

He pulled you closer and gripped your chin to make you look at him as he stroked his cock teasingly, "Wanna ride me dry and see if you can come undone or vise verse but you blow me ? Which is it sweetheart ?" Darting dark eyes your way as he audibly purred. Kind to not so kind kisses being placed to your collarbone making you shiver as his cold lips met your hot skin.

New hickies you never minded showing off, just as much as he never minded giving you to show off.

The choices were hanging heavy on your tongue, now realizing his question. Almost obediently, in one swift motion you got down your knees willingly let him unravel you with his slim eyes.

"Such a lucky ass man I am~"

Fuck you wanted him so bad.

"You gonna blow me my pretty Y/N ?" He said stroking your cheek as if you were the most rarest diamond from his thief heist. To him you were not only rare, but valuable beyond his mind.

Grasping hold of his member you lick up his shaft kissing here and there. Making quick work to get to the main course.

Tetsurou smiled. His pretty boy serving his cock like it was something holy. Before he knew it you started gulping down his length. Slobber dribbling at the creases of your mouth. Pretty eyes of yours making their ways to your rooster headed lover.

"Fuck-! Baby I'ma fuckin' cum-" He groaned, head flying backward as you got off hearing him announce he was gonna shoot down your throat. Swallowing every. Single. Drop.

"Shit.. You gonna take daddies cum baby ? Yeah ? Where you want it ? Tell me babes." He was tapping his cock against your now plump and messy lips as he stroked himself off to your filthy face. Fuck, he was using your face for his own pleasure. You wanted him to know how much you enjoyed this.

"Mm- I want it in my mouth!~ please stick your cock deep down my throat daddy!~" You whined pathetically stroking your own leaking cock and using your own arousal for lube. The lewd squlching noises invading your ears.

He snorted at your poor attempts at getting yourself off and opened your jaw enough to shove all the way in down your throat. Tears prickling and threatening to fall down your face. You let out small gags leading to moans from the action as he shot down your throat. You swallowed his seed successfully, sticking out your tongue to show you did.

"Such a pretty boy.. Fuck such pretty boy." Tetsurou praised as he wiped the tears you ignored from your puffy eyes. Also unnoticing the ringing one of your phones was doing. You didn't care though. "We ain't done yet though. Get your sweet ass up here my prince." You joyfully obliged as he helped you off your knees seeing they were red. He started rubbing small circles and kissing your bare shoulders. A way of saying sorry for making you be on yourknees for so long.

'So caring~' You groggily giggled to yourself due to your throat being slightly sore from your guys' previous actions. Damn he was rough this time. Does being found out really get him this riled up ?

He cocked an eyebrow, "What's wrong ? Did a do something silly ?" He wore his signature smirk. The one you loved and hated. A calming and goofy aura being replaced with the once heated lustful one. All you could do was giggle again and cup his face in the moment. Just enjoying him.

"You're just so caring with me and I love you for moments like these." You confessed. Heart beating erratically as he chuckled kissing your nose.

"I know. I'm a big ass softy for my boyfriend believe it or not." You rolled your eyes jokingly. You loved this man, but you also loved his cock which by the way, still hasn't gone soft yet.

Turning around in his lap you wrapped your arms and legs around his form as you whispered alluringly. "Let me do the work cuz my dick is aching now and I needa cum stupid bad." You smiled devilishly. He once again for the umpteenth time, chuckled at your words and throwing his hands up.

"No hands my prince. No hands." You nodded. Knowing full well he would lose it half way of your quote unquote dominance.

You slowly and steadily began inserting his member inside. God, the stretch you fucking waited for was heavenly. Making it all the more nearly impossible to not close your eyes in delight.

Sucking through his teeth your boyfriend let out a long "Fuuuck..~" as groaned instinctively grasping onto your hips. On a loose thread of keeping his promise of letting you in control.

"God, you're so fucking- huge-! Testu~" You whined already grinding the rest of length into your now gaping hole. The feeling all too familiar to your body. Soon beginning to bounce up and down with pure greed. Not giving the slightest flying fuck if someone were to see you through the small class window as you were rolling your eyes back in ecstasy like a expert porn star.

"You- You're so fucking tight.. Ugh- fuck I love it !~" He moaned out aggressively as your bouncing only quickened at his words slapping sounds got louder. "Who's fucking cock are you riding Y/N ?" He growled and huffed bear your neck. His breath tickling the hairs in the area.

Noticing he didn't get any answer to his no rhetorical question, Tesurou slapped your ass harshly leaving a delicious itchy feeling rupture in the spot his heavy hand slammed on. You lost it as an almost unbearable amount of pre ran down your cock.

"You- Ah!~ Fuck it's you Testu!~ Your cock- Ah-!~ is hitting me in all the right places oh my fucking god!-" You shrieked small little tears making their way down your ruined face.

'This slut is really egging me the fuck on today~' Tetsurou mentally grinned.

Not only did he like the words coming out of your mouth, but he lived for those damn tears of diamond racing out the corners of your eyes. "

"Fuck it. I'm pounding the shit out of this ass." He mumbled to himself as he snatched you off of his body as if it was completely nothing and pressed you forward on a desk, your perky nipples grazing the cold school furniture.

He took a second to adjust his angle until ramming into your prostate directly dead on as you let out a high pitched warble. Anyone could mistake your voice for a females out of context. "Fuck-! fuck- MM— FUCK YES~" you moaned as your cock swung heavily in between your legs as Tetsurou began deep stroking every corner inside you. The feelings making your mind go numb.

"Baby boy I'm finna blow my load~ Who the fuck is fucking your shit up right ? Huh ?~" Testu's snarled in your ear. Snatching you up by your neck up to his sweaty hard chest. Your bodies creating an almost unbearable heat between you both.

You whined in a needy voice as the feeling of your prostate getting hammered repeatedly. "YOU DADDY~ YOU YOU YOU~!!! GOD LEMME CUM FUUUCK—" His grip on your neck did not falter as his pace only got faster. Quickly gripping your slick penis and jerked you off all the while placing delectable light kisses around your bruised neck and shoulders. You were nearly seeing stars with overstimulation and his contrast of touch.

"That's exactly what I like to hear my amazing boy~" Tetsurou hips stuttered as you came hard, your eyes rolling back and drool sliding down your jaw. Coming straight after your release he gave one last deep push cumming deep down in your tight little ass. "Fuck babe..- Fuck-" He panted smiling lazily, grip already faltering around your neck. He never would forgive himself if he accidentally choked you to death.

Since you guys literally just fucked in a classroom, aftercare had to be done differently. Slowly laying his head on your shoulder, rubbing your hips and doing anything to ease any after pain off your body. Maybe you'll let him try out a cream he uses on himself after volleyball. Eases the joints and moisturizes your body.

Such a loving boyfriend you bad.

"I love you so damn stinkn' much Y/N.. God I'm so fucking lucky I swear." You chuckled, 'cause he always seemed to be so emotional after you guys had sex. You thought it was cute coming from him. "Let's get out of here cuz' we already stayed here for half an hour." You stated pushing the tall male off your body, much to his unpleasant dismay. He only hummed in response.

"Your house or mine ?" He questioned after pulling up his pants and tugging his extra volleyball shirt on. You stretched while yawning a bit. Sex is tiring.

"Yours. My parents will automatically smell the sex on me and no cologne can cover that." Giggling softly at your statement your boyfriend nodding in a agreement.

"Let's just hope they dont find out we once fucked in your living room-" You glared at him as he stopped, snickering at how cute his boyfriend looked after being roughed up.

"Let's go so we can cuddle now please." You softly pleaded as you tugged his shirt tiredly. You know the first thing you were gonna do when you got to his house was instantly plop smack on his oversized bed.

"Let's go my prince."

Bees are pretty..

Zenna, no.

[finiffy]

hi hi hi

okay so i know we keep dragging the "when meri and clef meet" stuff around like the ass end of a bag of sand but theres always these sad stories n stuff and long story short but i was doing a psychoanalysis on a show for shits and giggles and I had an idea that i microwaved til i had something better meri amplifies clef's chaos, but also balances it.

like their conversations are weird n awkward and maybe they dont get along and maybe clef doesnt tell meri the truth about her mother but thats all aside.

the second. the moment. the ABSOLUTE EVENT that those two are left unattended, i wouldnt say all hell breaks loose, but the two began to do fun father/daughter activities.

playing some games, talking about the outside, stuff like that.

maybe some chaos.

and they began to amplify the best in one another. they get to explore the foundation. they get to do things. clef begins to calm down and meri has fun for the first time in forever. they begin to realize what they lost and they begin to be able to make up for what was lost.

its a bitersweet satisfaction of the two having care and healing.

maybe at the end meri has to go into containment again, clef is left alone and the effects of his trauma sink in just how deep his hurt is.

and he decides to go to glass. for realzies. willingly.

Clef really has no idea how to act "father like" and is so awkwardly trying to be fun and Meri is just so excited just to hang out with her dad for the first time. It would be a fun character development for them to be together and hang out

[ilovefandoms102]

Taking Chances-Part 3*

Pairing: College!Drew Starkey x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: The basketball star seeks help from the girl he’s been crushing on for two years…will she reciprocate his feelings?

Note: I am so in love with this man it’s not even funny...🥺 

I have missed writing this series and now I have so many ideas so I’m so excited to have this for you guys! I hope everyone enjoys!

The parts in italics are flashbacks! 

Click here to be apart of my taglist

Part 2 Part 4

=====================================

After that night, Drew and I spent every waking moment together…

I couldn’t get enough of him, he was so incredibly sweet to me, and the biggest teddy bear. He will never admit this, but he loves being the little spoon. The past two months we have been dating have honestly been the best days of my life. 

However, people seemed to have a staring problem when we were together on campus. Drew paid no mind to it, his eyes either on me or talking to one of his teammates. They constantly teased Drew about how he hasn’t shut up about me since he first saw me our freshman year, and it seemed to have become worse now that we were together. I thought it was adorable, but Drew’s cheeks always turned a deep shade of pink anytime it was brought up. 

“Baby it’s cute,” I told him one day as we sat in class after we had escaped another round of his teammates teasing him. 

“It makes me sound like a creep,” he protested, arm slung behind my chair that he had scooted as close to him as possible. 

“No it doesn’t, it’s sweet.” I pouted, reaching out to rub his cheek. 

He leaned his elbow on the table, head resting in his large hand. His eyes swept over me, causing my thoughts to become self conscious as I squirmed in my seat. I looked everywhere but at him, turning back to face the front of the class. I saw him in my peripheral leaning towards my ear. 

“You look so beautiful today.” He whispered, kissing my cheek. I flushed as I looked down at myself, wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of leggings with my hair down in its natural state, and minimal makeup with my glasses perched on my nose. 

“Drew...I literally look like a trash can.” I chuckled, glancing at his almost hurt expression. 

“Stop that, you’re hot as fuck.” He smirked, pinching my thigh playfully. 

I giggled as I pushed his hand away, instead he intertwined our fingers and kept them on top of my thigh. Drew glanced to see if the professor was paying attention before quickly placing a kiss to my lips, taking me by surprise. I blinked in shock, looking over to my giant boyfriend. 

“What was that for?” I asked, still shocked. 

“Just ‘cause I wanted to kiss my beautiful girlfriend.” He shrugged, winking before turning back to listen to the professor. 

=====================================

Drew lived in the dorms on campus, meaning no privacy if we ever wanted to hang out. This made me very appreciative to my parents that helped me find the apartment I have to myself. In the last few months, Drew had practically moved himself in. 

Of course I didn’t mind at all...he was good eye candy. Besides that, he actually helped around my apartment which I found odd since no guy I know would voluntarily do the dishes or run the vacuum. It honestly made me fall even harder for the basketball super star. 

“Hey baby, holy shit it smells amazing in here.” Drew called, walking in my apartment from practice. 

I was occupied in the kitchen, whipping up some dinner for the both of us. Drew sat his duffel bag by the washer, no doubt more clothes in it that he needed washed. The washer and dryer on campus was outrageously expensive, and since I have a washer and dryer I just told Drew to bring his clothes here. Drew walked up behind me, wrapping his very sweaty body around mine. 

“Drew go take a shower, you’re ruining the aesthetic.” I huffed, trying to push his arms from around me, but he was too strong. 

“Well excuse me, I have not seen my girlfriend all day and I would like to love on her.” Drew said matter of factly. 

“You see her everyday,” I giggled, they intensified when Drew started placing ticklish kisses on my neck. 

“I know, but I didn’t see her today.” He pouted, his large frame completely engulfing mine. 

“Well you smell like shit, so off to the shower with you.” I ordered, shooing his hands away that seemed to have traveled back to my ass. 

“Fine, fine you win this time.” Drew sighed, laying a smack to my behind before disappearing down the hall. 

=====================================

Drew came back a few minutes later, fresh out of the shower in just a pair of basketball shorts hung low on his hips. It took everything in me to not jump him right then and there, and he knew it too by the look he gave me. 

“See something you like princess?” He asked smugly, flexing his muscles on purpose. 

“No,” I quipped, turning back to turn the stove burners off since dinner was done. 

Drew snatched my hand, yanking me to his chest. I gasped, placing my hands on his abdomen to keep me from falling. He circled his arms around me, one hand staying on my waist while the other tangled into my hair. I moaned softly when he tugged on the strands a little, his smile bright at my reaction. 

“I think you saw something you liked sweetheart,” Drew smirked, eyes falling to my lips that were slightly parted. 

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” I teased, the hands I had placed on his abs beginning to wander. His fist tugged my hair harder, my teeth biting down on my bottom lip to stop the squeal I was about to let out. 

“Such a brat,” he growled, his blue eyes darkening. 

“You love it though, don’t you baby?” I grinned, tracing my fingertips along the waistband of his shorts. 

“Fuck yeah I do,” he said as he leaned down to smash his lips to mine. 

I finally let out the moan I was holding in, my hands moving to thread them through his damp hair. I let my tongue out to play with his, both of us fighting for dominance over the other. He ultimately won, but not willingly on my part. Drew’s big hands gripped my ass cheeks in a death grip, a slight grunt passing his lips as he used his hold to pull me in closer. 

“Th-The foods gonna get cold,” I panted as I pulled away, chest heaving. 

“I want to kiss you,” Drew stated, leaning back down for another kiss. 

“But-baby-Drew-“ I tried, but was interrupted as Drew kept kissing me. 

“Eat later, kiss now.” he mumbled against my lips, my smile growing as I gave in to his request.

=====================================

“So there’s a frat party this weekend, and I was really hoping you would be my date.” Drew spoke as we cleaned up the kitchen. 

“Sure, I’ve never been to a frat party,” I shrugged, handing him another dish to dry. 

“You’re not missin’ much trust me.” He chuckled. 

“Then why do you want to go?” I asked, genuinely curious. 

“Because now I have a beautiful woman to show off.” He winked, making my cheeks flush. 

“You think you’re smooth Starkey,” I laughed. 

“Oh I know I’m smooth baby, that’s how I landed such an amazing girlfriend.” Drew smiled, leaning down to kiss my red cheek. 

“Yeah sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” I dismissed, rolling my eyes playfully. 

“You help me sleep at night gorgeous.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss my cheek. I shoved his head away with my wet hand, giggling as he looked at me like I had ruined his favorite jersey. 

“What are you gonna do about it Starkey?” I taunted, beaming as Drew picked up some of the water and splashed me.

“That’s what smartass,” he countered, laughing as I gasped when the water hit me. 

“Oh it’s on,” I grinned evilly, throwing more water at him. 

Drew and I continued our little splash fight until my kitchen was covered in soapy water, Drew holding on to me so I didn’t fall but also so he had the advantage to get my hair and clothes soaked. I tried to get away, shoving at his chest, but to no avail he kept me in his arms. 

“Drew stop!” I squealed, his laughter making my heart flutter.

“You asked for it!” he shouted, squeezing a rag over my head.

“You better clean up this mess mister!” I yelled, giggling as he picked up a few more soap bubbles to put on my face.

“Now this, this is sexy.” Drew chuckled, my eyes rolling as I hit his chest playfully.

“Stooooop, now I need to go shower.” I giggled, leaning my head back to look at him.

“I should join you, ya know to make sure u get all the soap out.” He grinned slyly, hands traveling over my form. 

“In your dreams Starkey,” I whispered, kissing the corner of his lips before heading to the shower.

“Brat,” he growled, his eyes glued to me as I walked away. 

=====================================

The one thing I loved the most about Drew is-

Wait...did I just-did I just think love?

Wow...I couldn’t tell you the last time I had that kind of thought…

Anywho, Drew wasn’t one of those guys that pressured sex. The past few boyfriends I had always made me feel like I just had to give in, like it was my duty as a woman to please them. 

Sure Drew and I loved to tease each other, but he made it very clear that we were on my terms when it came to anything sexual. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make my heart flutter. I truly, truly felt like Drew and I could last, or at least I hoped to. 

“I want you to feel completely safe with me, no rushing or jumping into anything you’re not ready for.” He explained, snuggled up against me in my tiny, queen size bed. 

“I do feel safe with you teddy bear,” I grinned, his eye roll at the nickname making me laugh. 

“I mean in the sense of talking about anything and everything, no lies, and no secrets.” He continued, gently brushing his finger along my features. 

“I can do that,” I agreed, running my fingers through his hair. 

“You-You don’t feel pressured to do anything just because I insinuate it right?” He questioned, a frown forming on his beautiful face. 

“No baby I don’t, I know you’re just teasing, and I like it. If I didn’t, I would tell you.” I reassured, kissing his nose to which he smiled at. 

“I’m in for the long run sweetheart, you ready for that?” He smirked, his arms going around my back to pull me impossibly closer. 

“I am,” I said nervously, feeling a lump in my throat. 

“Good, because I don’t plan on going anywhere and I won’t let you push me away.” He revealed, my heart thumping a million miles a minute. 

“Drew,” I whispered, feeling my whole body flood with emotion. 

“I feel different with you y/n, like everything feels so real. I-I’ve never felt the way I feel when I’m with you.” Drew confessed, my eyes filling with happy tears that I forced back down. 

“I feel that way too teddy bear,” I smiled, slowly caressing his cheek. 

Drew leaned forward slowly, kissing my lips gently. I threaded my fingers in his hair, smiling into his kiss. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled into my lips. I pulled back a little, looking at him confused. 

“For what?” I asked. 

“Taking a chance on me,” he smiled, kissing me again. 

I deepened our kiss, feeling my body ignite with fire and passion. Drew’s hands stayed firm, one underneath me threaded into my damp hair, and the other on my hip. His fingers felt the curve and dip, squeezing lightly which made my heart flutter. 

I had one hand holding his cheek, the other making its way from his hip bone and slowly creeping it under the wife beater he was wearing. I felt the ripple of muscles on his abdomen, tracing under his pecs. Then I felt my way to his back, smoothing my hands up and down as our kiss intensified. 

Drew abruptly sat up, yanking the fabric over his head then tossed it on the floor. My chest was heaving from lack of air, his doing the same. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to hover over me as I laid on my back. 

“Drew?” I panted, pulling away to look into his eyes. 

“Yeah? Am I going too fast?” He asked, his eyes filling with concern. 

“No, I just wanted to tell you that-that I want you to touch me-like...everywhere.” I stammered, my cheeks heating up slightly. 

I didn’t wait for his response however, reaching for the back of his neck to bring his lips back to mine. Drew moaned softly, sending shivers down my spine. It was the sexiest sound I ever heard, and I wanted more. 

His hands explored more of my body, taking both my breasts in his large hands. I wasn’t wearing a bra since we were originally planning to go to bed, so he was pleasantly surprised to not feel the cups of the bra. 

Drew grazed his thumbs over my nipples, a gasp flying from my lips as the exquisite feeling went straight down below. He moved his kisses down my neck, softly stroking my nipples that pebbled through my shirt. I let out a moan of my own when he gently sucked on a spot behind my ear, leaving his mark on my untarnished skin. 

“More,” I whimpered, moving one leg between his so I could grind my lower half on his thigh. 

“Ask nicely,” Drew murmured in my ear, and I could feel his smirk against my skin. 

“Let me have it,” I demanded, but my brattiness only got me a low growl from Drew. 

His hands came to my hips to stop my movements, a child like whine leaving my throat. I tried to fight his grip which only made his hands hold me tighter. 

“Brats don’t get what they want babygirl, you know this.” He reprimanded, laughing maliciously as I struggled to free myself. 

“Please,” I muttered, giving in. 

“What was that?” He teased, a frustrated groan escaping as I tugged at his hair. 

“Please Drew, please I need more.” I said a bit louder, a satisfied hum from Drew as he helped guide my hips to grind against him. 

I could feel his hardened member against my thigh, Drew’s low grunts in my ear making me even more hot as he was getting off just as I was. We both rutted up against each other, moans and whimpers from us filling the room. 

“Fuck this is so hot,” Drew moaned, making my head nod in agreement. His blue eyes almost black from lust, pupils blown wide as they stared into mine. 

“Feels so good baby,” I replied, my eyes closing as I could feel my release coming. 

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.” Drew growled, grinding both of our hips faster. 

“Me too,oh my god.” I gasped, my clit throbbing against his thigh. 

My back arched as my orgasm crashed down, stars flooding my vision. My nails dug into his shoulders, his head falling in my neck as his hips stuttered and his movement halted all together. I could feel the wet patch against my leg, making me smile slightly as I gasped for air. 

We laid there for a minute, not moving from our position other than Drew dropped to lay on top of me. I combed my hands through his now sweaty hair, his lips placing gentle kisses on my neck where his head was currently buried. 

“I need to change my pants,” Drew blurted, a giggle bursting from my lips. 

“I need new shorts,” I smirked, shuffling a little on the bed. 

“Can I tell you something?” Drew questioned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

“Of course you can babe,” I chuckled, gently caressing his cheeks. 

“I’ve been dying to know what you taste like,” he blurted, my eyes widening and teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

“Maybe you could have a sample,” I said barely above a whisper. 

“Can I?” He asked, fingers dragging down my stomach. 

I nodded, keeping eye contact as his hand dipped in my shorts. He scooped up my cum, being careful to not touch any sensitive areas. I stared downwards as his hand ascended to his mouth, sticking his two fingers he used inside. His eyes closed as he sucked his fingers clean, letting out a spine chilling moan that made me want to strip and let him have his way with me.

“How was it?” I smirked, eyes still connected with his mouth. 

He took his fingers from his mouth, wiping them on my shirt. I could see his tongue moving around in his mouth as if he was trying to savor every last drop. His eyes met mine, a sly smile forming as his lips came closer and closer to mine. 

“Delicious,” he murmured against my lips, and I leaned the rest of the way to connect them. 

=====================================

I met Drew at the frat house on Saturday, it was a pool party so I was a bit hesitant to be around everyone in a bikini. Drew was very convincing and talked me into just wearing it under my clothes so that if I didn’t want to I didn’t have to. I chose a higher cut bikini to show off his favorite body part of mine with a more plunging neckline. I wore one of his basketball shirts with his name on the back tucked into some distressed jeans with flip flops. 

“Hey baby!” Drew greeted, already in his swim shorts which hung low just enough to make every girl here wonder what’s underneath. 

I smiled wide as I came closer, his adorable grin making my heart soar. I was surprised though when he reached me and bent his knees with his hands on my hips to pick me up. I squeaked a little, not expecting it, but I liked it. I wrapped my legs tightly around him, holding onto his shoulders. I was even more surprised when he leaned in and kissed me in front of everyone. 

“That was some greeting Starkey,” I giggled as I pulled away, wiping some of the lip gloss that had smeared off his lip. His big hands squeezed my ass cheeks, another round of giggles erupting. 

“I like the ass L/n,” he commented, winking as he kept his hold on them. 

“I like the muscles baby,” I said as I felt his broad shoulders and chest. 

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured, tightening his hold on my ass. 

“You’re too sweet teddy bear,” I gushed, pinching his cheeks. 

“Damn bro, how your arms not broken?” One of the frat brothers asked, my heart stopping as I looked from him to Drew whose expression morphed into one of anger. 

“Drew,” I warned, but he ignored me and sat me back on my feet. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Drew questioned, shoving me behind him. I grabbed his hand and used my other to grab his bicep, not wanting a fight to break out. 

“I’m just sayin’ man she thick and all but damn.” The boy scoffed, looking me up and down behind Drew. 

“Insult my girlfriend again, I fucking dare you.” Drew taunted angrily, taking a step closer. I pulled on his arm, hoping to get his attention back to me. 

“Drew it’s ok, he was just dropped on his head as a child and doesn’t appreciate what a real woman looks like.” I sassed, raising a brow at the boy. 

I didn’t give him a chance to reply however, pulling Drew towards one of the pool chairs. I stripped my clothes in front of him, his eyes widening at the sight of my bikini. I smirked as his eyes traveled up and down my body, lingering on the curves of my hips. I turned around to purposefully give him a view of the back, my heart jumping at the curse that left his lips.

“What?” I asked, grinning when his eyes snapped back to mine.

“You’re...you’re stunning, absolutely gorgeous.” he breathed, his hands coming to wind around me and pull me to his chest. 

“I figured you’d like it,” I shrugged, his head shaking as he smiled down at me.

“Let’s get in,” he chuckled, intertwining our fingers and pulling me with him to the pool.

=====================================

The frat brother that felt the need to make that comment earlier kept eyeing Drew and I, making him tense up against me. I moved to stand in front of him, wrapping my arms around him.

“You should have let me deck that guy,” Drew grunted, his hands going to my hips to pull me closer.

“He’s not worth it Drew,” I sighed, placing my hands on his cheeks and gently pull so his eyes would come back to mine.

“I don’t like it, he had no right.” Drew huffed, scrunching his eyebrows. 

“Let’s not think about it ok? I want to have fun with you.” I smiled softly, getting up on my toes to kiss him. Drew flashed a small grin, holding me closer to him. 

A little while later, the frat guy was completely forgotten. Drew and I were completely wrapped up in each other. We couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves which earned lots of stares from the other girls trying hard to get him to look their way. 

Drew pulled me to a corner of the deep end of the pool, Drew being so tall his shoulders were still above the water. He wrapped my legs around his waist, but his fingers stayed wandering on my private area of my bikini. I gasped in surprise, looking around to see if anyone would notice.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish Starkey,” I grumbled, gripping his biceps. 

“I’m not doing anything babydoll,” Drew said innocently, but with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Drew,” I whispered, his fingers moving my bikini bottoms to the side.

I stared deep into his eyes, blinking rapidly as his fingers slowly caressed me. I bit down on my bottom lip, trying hard to conceal my moans. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, leaning to place a gentle kiss to my lips.

The moment was ruined however when some of Drew’s teammates yelled for him.

“Hey yo Starkey! Wanna shoot some hoops?” they called, Drew turning to look at them before back to me. 

“Go on, I’ll be here.” I said, already missing the feel of his fingers as he moved my bottoms back.

“I won’t play for long ok?” he smiled, giving me a gentle kiss before heading out of the pool.

=====================================

I couldn’t help but stare the way Drew moved as he played, his coordination so flawless. He was going places, that I was sure of. Other girls of course walked by him, making sure they were in his line of sight with their tiny bikinis that barely left anything to the imagination, but Drew didn’t spare them one glance. 

As soon as he was done, he came to the edge of the pool and jumped back in. I turned my face away giggling, beaming as he resurfaced so his face was right in front of mine. I returned to my earlier position with my legs wrapped around him, a mischievous act forming in my brain. I trailed my fingers down his abdomen and lower, tracing the band of his swim shorts. I bravely grabbed his halfway hardened dick, feeling it pulsate in my hand.

“Baby,” he growled, his hands gripping my hips tight. 

“Hmmm?” I questioned, batting my lashes at him.

“Quit,” he griped, but made no move to stop me.

“I think you like it though sweetheart,” I winked, palming him a bit harder.

“I don’t want to get out of this pool hard as a rock.” Drew groaned, throwing his head back before coming back to meet my eyes. Our moment was yet ruined again by some of the cheerleaders.

“Hey Drew come dance with us!” they giggled, he went to respond until I squeezed him dick harder.

“Sorry ladies, he’s taken.” I fake smiled, waving my free hand at them. They glared at me before scurrying off, my attention turning back to Drew. 

“So possessive,” Drew teased, his hands moving to squeeze my ass.

“You love it,” I giggled, taking my hand away from his member to wrap them around his neck.

“It’s sexy as fuck,” Drew nodded excitedly, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss to my lips.

After a moment of us just staying like that, the party started to die down.

“You ready to get out of here babe?” Drew asked, my head nodding as I was eager to have him all to myself.

“Let’s go home,” I murmured, squealing moments after as he carried me out of the pool and to the pool chair where our stuff was sitting.

This giant man of mine just may be the key to mending my broken pieces...

=====================================

Taglist: @outerbongs​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @artfork​ @ifilwtmfc​ @bolaurel​ @themaddies-obx​ @noneofmybusiness-cl @ilovejjmaybank​ @gviosca​ @runway-to-my-aid​ @nina1800​ @lemur46​ @lynlovesouterbanks​ @heresalltheshit​ @mxltifandoms06​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @deionswannabegirl​ @x-lulu​ @poguestyleskye​ @starrystarkey93​ @evaporatedrosepetals​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @simpingforrudypankowonly​ @holy-spn​ @dpaccione​ @obx-direction-sos​ @haley-talks-too-much​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @cheshirecat107​ @iamaunicorn4704

[seiyasabi]

Obsessed With Loving You

(Here’s a Yandere Lucid Narancia x Willing Fem Reader fic! I hope ya’ll enjoy :)) Also, this will take place in the early 2000s, so I will make appropropriate references for the time period. 

TW: Aged up Narancia!, !Consensual NSFW!, praise kink!, Blowjob!, cum swallowing!, !violence (not against you)!, mafia business!, mostly a soft fic, !obsession, !Possiveness, you’re highkey in denial of his unhinged behaviour!, etc..

I’m sorry if this is too OOC) 

Zipping up your cropped Juicy Couture jumper, you look at yourself in your vanity mirror. Your (size) breasts look amazing with your low cut tank top and partially unzipped jumper, and your (thin/thick) thighs look ravishing in your Dior mini skirt. 

Smiling at your cute appearance, you swipe a thin layer of (colour) lipgloss on your (thin/full) lips, before spreading the product out evenly. 

Today, Nara is supposed to take you out, and you’re very excited. 

Plopping down on your vanity’s bench, you buckle a pair of open-toed high heels onto your pedicured feet. Smoothing down any wrinkles on your expensive skirt, you bring out your navy-coloured Nokia, and text your boyfriend that you’re ready to go. Grabbing your cross-bodied purse, you slip it on, and toss your cellphone into its large pocket. 

Within moments of your text, you hear your bedroom door’s locks disengage. Your silly boyfriend is so worried about you, that he put those three high security locks on your door. He says he’s afraid of a rival mafia hurting you, but you always reassure him that you know that he’d save you. After all, he’d brought you to his home so that he’s almost always near you! 

Your eyes land on your curly haired man, his usual attire strapped on tighter than normal, bringing out his lithe, muscular form. 

“Ready to go, beautiful?” You smile and nod, standing to your feet. His purple eyes are glued to your form, taking in how beautiful you look in the clothing he bought you. 

“Mmhmm! I’m so excited to go out with you today,” You hurry up to him, hugging him in a tight embrace, all whilst grinning up at him lovingly. His heart practically combusts at the sight of your cute face. 

“Me too! I have so much planned for us today,” His giddy smile and eager words spur the two of you into motion, his arm tightly wound around your waist and your head leaning against his bony shoulder. 

Once outside your apartment building, he calls over a taxi, getting one with ease. Nara opens the door for you, batting his eyelashes at you playfully. You giggle at his silly actions, and step inside the yellow car. Sitting on the plush seat, you wait for your man to take a seat next to you. Those few moments feel like forever, but when you hear the opposite door open, and you feel his hot hand place itself on your bare thigh, you feel at ease. 

The dark haired man speaks to the taxi driver in Italian, and even though you try to follow their conversation, they speak too quickly for you to understand. That’s the price you pay for living in a foreign country. 

Once the driver knows where Narancia wishes to go, your boyfriend sends you a happy smile, “Today is going to be a good day, beautiful. I’ll make sure of it.” 

-

The day did, in fact, start out great. 

When the two of you reached Via Toledo, Nara immediately directed you to a plethora of high end stores. He’d picked out multiple cute outfits he thought you’d look cute in, and practically dragged you into the fitting room. The only problem is that you looked good in everything he put you in! He almost allowed himself to become bankrupt by buying you everything, but you quickly stopped him. 

He was upset at first, but when you meekly told him that you didn’t want him to spend all his money on you, his resolve broke. The both of you came to an agreement; you pick out one or two outfits that you like the most, and he’ll buy only the things you chose. This pleased him greatly, because he was still able to spoil you, but you felt too bad to choose anything very expensive. 

So, this ended up with Narancia carrying about ten bags at the end of the day. 

“Are you sure you want to carry all of them, Nara? I can carry something! I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself-” 

“Don’t worry about me, beautiful. I can carry everything, and if you want, I can even carry you,” This draws a laugh from you. You hold onto his arm, trying to keep up with his long strides. 

“Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun,” You kiss him on the cheek, making him flush a deep maroon. His russet coloured skin practically glows in the setting sun, making you gawk at him in awe. Your boyfriend is so beautiful. Hearing a love sick giggle come from the curly haired man, you realise that you said your thoughts out loud. 

“It is no problem, (Nickname), all I want is for you to be happy,” He kisses your cheek in return, making you flush as well, “Are you hungry? Fugo told me that there’s a good place-”

“Narancia Ghirga, I’m going to kill you!” A haggard looking man runs towards the both of you, and for some reason, he looks familiar, “Give me (Your Name) back! I know that you’ve brainwashed her!” The man’s outburst causes a lot of bystanders to look in your direction, thus causing a small crowd to form. 

Your boyfriend quickly pushes you behind him, shielding you from the man with his own body, “What the fuck do you want? I don’t know who the hell you are, but you better stay away from my girlfriend,” You have never seen the normally happy go-lucky man this angry, which scares you. 

“You know what you did, and you know who I am! I am Christian Viccio, (Your Name)’s real boyfriend! I’m here to take her back home, where she belongs,” He whips out a pistol, drawing loud yells and gasps from the crowd around you. 

“You’re fucking crazy! Put the fucking gun away,” Narancia quickly calls upon Aerosmith, preparing to kill the man that’s currently threatening your relationship and your life. Nara knows who this man is, of course he does! He’s the man that had stolen you away from him, the man that tried to steal your heart. The dark haired man is kicking himself for not just killing him when he had the chance. But, here is his second chance. 

When the haggard man moves to shoot your boyfriend, he allows Aerosmith to shit him in the head, killing him instantly. The crowd runs and screams after the shot is fired, causing mass panic. You can’t move, you’re in shock at what just happened. It’s as if a sniper just took the guy out in mere seconds. 

Realising your paralysing fear, Nara scoops you into his arms, bags digging painfully into his flesh, and runs in the direction of your shared apartment. 

-

“-You’re alright, beautiful. That horrible man can’t hurt you,” The purple eyed man soothes, rubbing your sides reassuringly, “I’m sorry that I kept this away from you, but I was scared. I was scared that that obsessed man was going to hurt you and steal you away from me.” You cuddle into your boyfriend’s warm chest, eating his words up without much thought. 

“It’s okay Nara, thank you for saving me. Without you, I surely would’ve been hurt,” He squeezes your body close to his, relishing how soft you feel under his large palms. 

“I’d do anything for you, (Your Name). I’d kill for you, because I love you, just remember that, okay?” You nod, forehead bumping his exposed collar bones. 

“I love you too. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You smooch the underside of his jaw, making butterflies flutter in his stomach. 

“Just you loving me is enough,” He kisses your forehead, his hands squeezing the fat of your hips. You smile up at him, your hands running through his hick locks, tugging lightly on certain spots. A small moan escapes his lips, showing that he’s enjoying your actions. 

“Please let me do something for you, Nara. Please let me make you feel good,” Who is he to deny your request? Especially when you look at him with so much love and warmth. 

“O-okay,” His voice breaks slightly, causing him to clear his throat, “-I mean, yes, of course,” Giving him one last kiss on the lips, you then push him lightly onto his back, leaving him vulnerable below you. You sit on his legs, trapping him below you. 

“I love you so much,” Your fingers grasp the fabric of his top, signaling you wanting him to take it off. He does so without fault, showing his well chiseled abdomen, “I meant what I said earlier, you’re very pretty, Nara. My pretty, kind, amazing boyfriend,” His cheeks flush, and you can’t help but kiss them in response. 

Your hands ghost over his trouser clad cock, feeling it jump under your soft touch. You shuck the skirt overlaying trousers, before removing them as well, leaving him in his tightening boxers. His purple undergarment shows the outline of his dick very nicely, making your mouth water. 

“I wanna make you feel good, will you let me suck your beautiful cock?” He nods down at you shyly, making you grin in happiness. 

Pulling his boxers off of him causes his hardening cock to smack against his v-line, splattering a small amount of precum on his tan skin. His tip is a dark maroon, whilst his shaft is a little darker than the rest of his skin. The area around his cock and sack is smooth and hairless, all thanks to a waxing salon he visits monthly. All in all, his prick is the prettiest one you’ve ever seen. 

Moving off of him for a moment, you guide him to the edge of your bed, kneeling between his parted legs. His heavy sack hangs below him, but his thick cock bobs straight up. Looking up at his shy face, you take his cock in your dominant hand, and kiss his sensitive tip lovingly. 

He lets out a small, high pitched moan, earning him a second kiss. Narancia lays a heavy hand on the back of your head, signaling that he wants you to continue. You do so willingly. 

Your other hand cups his heavy balls, kneading them softly, whilst your mouth suckles his tip, and your other hand stroked him tenderly. He keens at your treatment, hips bucking slightly. 

“That-that feels so good. I love you so much,” At his words, your hand leaves his shaft, in favour of you taking him deep into your mouth, practically deep throating him. Moaning at full volume, he tries to stay as still as possible, as you suck and fondle him. Squirts of precum shoot down your throat, spurring you to bob your head faster. 

“Fu-fu-fuck! You treat me so well, (Your Name), you suck my cock so-” He cuts himself off with a series of moans. 

You continue to suck and fondle his cock, the back of your throat massaging his thick cockhead. Tears sting your eyes as you hum around him, trying not to gag. 

With every swallow around him, you can feel him swell, showing that he’s about to cum. With one last hard suck, and a particularly hard squeeze of his sack, he creams the back of your throat. 

Narancia falls backwards, his orgasm wracking his entire body. His hips almost jerk away from your mouth, but you dutifully follow, trying to swallow down everything that he’s giving you. Your throat helps milk him of his cum, causing him to become oversensitive very quickly. 

Once you hear his pitiful keen, you release him, licking your lips of any of his escaped cum. Sliding up his legs, you lay your (size) chest against his, smiling down at his fucked out face. 

“I love you, Nara. I’m so happy that you’re the ones who saved me,” Your words are sweet, honest, and innocent, and in his post-nut clarity, Narancia can’t help but feel guilt for lying to you. 

But, since he can see that his brainwashing hasn’t come undone, he says nothing. 

Capturing your lips with his, he holds you close, relishing your weight against his lithe form. 

Nothing can take you from him, no, he’ll make sure of it. 

[ive-been-worse]

Liable PT 2

Word Count: 2,419

Warning: Violence, blood, knives, hospitals, close calls, mentions of anxiety/panic, let me know if I missed any.

A/N: this is part two to a different post. It's long, I can't write cases, kinda angsty but it has a happy ending. Enjoy

“Can you believe it?” You point your spoon at no one in particular. “A ‘liability’! God!” You let out a sardonic laugh and viciously dig into your ice cream.

You, Emily, JJ, and Penny are having girls’ night. Yes, you’re a little tipsy and definitely not over anything.

Emily shakes her head while JJ pours more wine for everyone.

“Y/N/N, you know you aren’t a liability. You’re damn good at your job and Hotch was full of shit,” Em doesn’t normally bash the boss but she’s a little more than tipsy too.

“You know what it is?” Penny butts in, “He likes youuuuuuu.”

Her words elicit a scoff from you, “As if.” Heat rose in your cheeks.

“No, she’s right. Everyone can see it. Hotch totally has a thing for you!” JJ exclaims, spilling a little of her wine. “Come on, are you seriously saying you’ve never noticed how much he hovers over you?”

“Or stiffens whenever you’re with an unsub?” Em adds.

“Or how he almost flinches everytime you call him ‘Agent Hotchner’,” Penny giggles.

“And, you like him too!” JJ says with a sudden seriousness.

You shake your head. As much as you want to deny JJ’s words, you can’t. Your crush has been blooming for a long time. It’s part of the reason why you’re taking this sudden cold front from your boss so hard. If only you knew what to do.

***

“Aaron, you gotta tell her,” was the first thing Dave said after sneaking into Hotch’s office.

“Tell who what, Dave?” Aaron asked. He didn’t have to ask. Dave was talking about you, just like he has been the last multiple times Dave has sought him out.

“Y/N. You know she’s a good agent. She deserves to know that.”

“Is that all?” Aaron has yet to look up from his paperwork.

“‘Is that all?’” Dave repeats, “No, first, it’s affecting the team. Everyone can see that. There’s so much tension between you two. After you fix that, you should also tell her how you feel.”

“Enough, there’s nothing to tell,” Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ll handle it, okay?”

“You better.”

***

Hotch had kept you out of the field for seven cases. Seven. Working from Quantico was killing you and you had a newfound respect for Penny. That’s why you jumped, literally jumped, at the chance to finally go on a case with the team. However, you’re confined to the police precinct. Not ideal, but you’ll take what you can get. So while the team is gathering information in the field, you’re working on the geographical profile.

Unfortunately, geographical profiles are not your strong suit. More unfortunately, you’ve determined that there’s not enough information to make one. With a sigh, you push yourself away from the desk and make your way to the mediocre coffee station.

A young officer approaches with a smile, “What a case, right?”

You look him over. This case is probably the worst he’s seen. He’s not too bad on the eyes. Not quite your type. You shake your head as the thought of your boss flits through your mind. Giving the officer a small smile, “That’s your opening?”

Red blooms across his cheeks as he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I had to start with something. I’m John,” his hand comes out between you two.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” he grips your hand a little too hard.

The door to the precinct opens. Hotch, Emily, and Reid come in. They were at the latest crime scene.

Nodding your head at your team, “That’s my cue.”

You take your leave but John stops you. “How about you and I take some time and I’ll buy you a better coffee?”

“I can’t. We have to solve this case. That’s my priority,” It’s a little harsh but that’s what you’re here to do in the first place so that’s what you’re going to do.

“L/N,” Hotch calls.

“I’m coming,” you take your coffee and go to them. “What did you find?”

“Her friends report some guy talking to her at the bar they went to the night before she went missing. Apparently he kept trying to get her to go somewhere with him.” Hotch fills you in.

“Let me guess, she kept turning him down?” You fill in, earning a nod from your boss.

“How’s the geographical profile?” Reid asks.

“You’re welcome to take a shot at it but there’s not enough.”

This time it’s Emily who speaks, “We need another victim.”

And you got one that night.

The next day you're able to finish the profile. Right as you do, coffee is set on your desk. You look up to see John. “Thank you,” you tell him. Relief filling you at the thought of caffeine.

“You looked like you could use it,” he smiled at you. Taking a sip you looked up in surprise. The coffee was exactly how you like it. “I- uh - I noticed how you took it yesterday while we were talking.” John rubbed the back of his neck and you nodded.

“We’re ready to give the profile.” Hotch announced over the room to gather everyone’s attention. It didn’t take long for everyone to get ready.

“We believe that the unsub is a young male, in his twenties to thirties,” Hotch started.

“He’ll probably try to inject himself in this investigation if he hasn’t already,” Morgan went next.

Your turn, “Given the places the victims are taken from and the dump sites, the unsub’s comfort zone is in this area,” you gesture to the map, “Meaning he either lives or works somewhere in the area.” The rest of the profile goes smoothly.

After, you take a step outside, needing to clear your head. The door opens and there’s footsteps. You turn to talk to the person. A butt of a gun slams into your head. You feel the shock.

Everything goes black.

***

You come too in a dark place and you can’t make anything out. You can hear a flip get switched and the lights flicker on above you. Squinting against the harsh light, you try to orient yourself. You take inventory. You’re sitting. Killer headache, probably a concussion. There’s something wet on your temple. You go to wipe it away only to discover your hands are bound behind you. Ankles similarly tied but to the legs of the chair.

Trying to fight the panic setting in, you take a deep breath and look around. Knives line the wall in all different sizes. Pictures of the previous victims are hung on the wall with some sort of writing by them.

The unsub walks into the room. He has an old camera with him. It’s flash blinds you. You turn your head away from the flash. When you look back, the unsub’s back is to you and he’s hanging the picture he just took on the wall. He looks familiar. You can’t place him until he turns around.

John.

John with a knife.

John with a knife, and he's coming toward you.

***

“He uses a knife so he’s likely impotent but there’s nothing else that implies this is sexual for him,” Morgan rubs his temples.

“The multiple stab wounds are all done before the kill. So he’s sadistic,” Rossi adds.

JJ enters the room, a worried look on her face. “Y/N isn’t here. I’ve checked with the hotel and they haven’t seen her since we left. She’s not answering her phone.”

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Rossi asks.

“No one knows where she went,” JJ says.

“Guys,” Reid enters the room, holding up a phone. Your phone.

“She wouldn’t leave with just anyone. Y/N’s careful.” Rossi scrubs his face.

“She probably didn’t go willingly. It’s broken.” Reid tells them, setting the phone on the table.

“I’ll call Hotch,” Morgan stands, leaving the room.

***

Coughs tear through you. Blood dribbles out, dripping onto your already ruined shirt. You turn your head and spit, trying to clear your mouth from the coppery liquid.

“You couldn’t have just said yes? It was just coffee. But no you couldn’t do that could you!” John lets out a deranged laugh. “You’re just like the others. So stuck up you won’t give anyone a chance.” The knife he wields sinks into your abdomen and you bite your lip to keep in the pained gasp. “We could have been happy together. You’d have to give up your job though. This isn’t a line of work for a lady.”

That line. You’d been hearing that line since you joined the BAU. You’re so tired of it. His face is so close. You spit and it lands on his cheek. A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as the bloody saliva trails down his jaw.

John wipes it off, “You’re going to regret that.” His fist hits the side of your head, sending ringing through your skull.

“No,” you cough up more blood. “You’ll regret this. My team will find you and you will pay.”

“Too bad you won’t be alive to see it.”

***

You were barely conscious when they found you. Your breaths are shallow. You don’t know what happened, what went down. All you know is that suddenly, you’re not in that chair anymore. You’re not there, and someone is being loud. Someone is yelling. You try to open your eyes to see who.

“Hotch,” it comes out weak. Barely a whisper. Your hand goes up on its own accord to wipe his tears, leaving a streak of red in its wake. “Why are you crying?” Suddenly your hand falls back to your side and you turn your head.

“Y/N! Hey Y/N! Stay with me!” His hand turns your head to look at him. His hands are so big. He’s warm. So warm. After you had been so cold.

“You’re so handsome, Hotch. So handsome,” it slurred out. Everything goes back once more.

***

The team is waiting anxiously at the hospital. Most of the cuts are shallow but the ones that aren’t caused you to need emergency surgery. They’re bad, more than enough to cause worry.

“She’ll make it. Y/N is strong. She’ll make it,” Emily sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

Reid has his head in his hands.

Morgan is pacing.

Garcia rushes into the waiting room when she gets there, “How is she?”

“She’s in emergency surgery,” Rossi answers.

She collapses into a nearby chair.

Hours drip by. One after another. Someone convinces Hotch to change, get out of the bloodstained suit. Someone else gets everyone coffee, or a snack. No one touches those.

The more time passes the more everyone gets worried. When the doctor comes out, it’s too soon and not soon enough all at the same time. “She’s stable,” everything they say after is a blur from the relief. “You’re welcome to see her when she wakes up.”

It’s an hour later when a nervous looking nurse comes in the waiting room. “Are you for Y/N L/N?” Everyone stands nodding. “She’s- uh- she’s asking for an Agent Hotchner?”

“That’s me,” Hotch steps forward.

“Follow me. Uh- the rest of you can see her in a little while,” the nurse sent a smile to the rest of the team.

***

The light was bright in the hospital. The doctor was telling you what happened but you didn’t hear any of it.

The door opens and Hotch rushes to your side, “Y/N!” He scans you over, eyes stopping on every bandage.

“Hotch,” your hand covers his to get his attention. “What happened?”

“I- We almost lost you. It was bad. You lost a lot of blood,” he tries to fight back the tears.

“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful. I should have realized-”

“No!” His voice comes out startlingly loud. He makes an effort to soften it. “No. This isn’t your fault. No one blames you.”

You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “Sure. No one blames me. They all just think I’m a liability right?” The word slips out before you can stop it.

Liability. The same one he used before. It felt like a knife to the gut.

“No. No. No. You’re not a liability. It was wrong of me to say that. God, Y/N, you could never be a liability. You’re an amazing agent. You never would have made it if you weren’t. I never should have said that. I was worried. You were with that unsub all by yourself for god knows how long and could have been seriously hurt. It was wrong. I never meant it,” He was rambling. He knew. Hotch could also feel the tears track down his face.

“You mean it?” Your voice comes out small and weak, you fight back your own tears.

Hotch nods rapidly. “Every word. When this happened. I was so scared Y/N. I can’t lose you.” His head falls to the mattress, trying to hide the tears.

You take a deep breath and decide to try your luck. Today has to be a day of defeating odds. “Aaron,” that causes his head to shoot up. It’s your first time calling him by his name. “Aaron, look, I gotta tell you. I can’t just make it through that and keep quiet about this anymore, who knows about the time. Oh boy, I just- ah- I like you Aaron. More than I probably should, given that you’re my boss but it’s true,” you refuse to meet his eyes, scared of what you’d see.

“Y/N,” he pauses, “Y/N look at me,” his voice is gentle, coaxing you to meet his eyes. He smiles despite the tears. “I like you too. I’ve tried to hide it for so long. I did, but I can’t do it anymore.”

You laugh and then grimace from the pain radiating in your chest. You brush off Hotch’s concern. “I’m fine. If we do this though, we have to do it right. Not just getting together because of the high of relief that we both probably feel. Okay?”

“Of course, we’ll take it slow.”

Despite everything, you’re happy right now. On painkillers, and definitely traumatized, but right now, in this moment, you’re happy. It only gets better when the rest of your team, the best friends you have, flood the room. Everyone is high on the relief of survival and all-in-all, it could only be better if you weren’t stuck in the hospital.

[13uswntimagines]

Prank Your Way Into My Heart (Alex Morgan x Reader)

Request: @Androgynousmoneyflowervoid: Alex Morgan is mean because she is scared of her feelings for the reader and reader thinks Alex hates her. Reader confronts Alex and they get into a fight and Alex tells the reader that she had feelings for her.

Pranks were a massive part of the USWNT culture. You had known that going in. You had accepted that you were most likely going to be the target of many of the team’s shenanigans because everyone liked to pick on the newbie. The baby, the rookie of the team as they had taken to calling you. To your surprise, the team had pretty much welcomed you with open arms. Krashlyn immediately taking you under their wing, and the youngins accepting you into their group with little fuss. 

Everyone seemed to like you. Everyone except Alex. It was like she had made it her personal duty to make your life a living hell. You took the first few pranks on the chin, smiling along with the rest of the team when you walked into your shared room after practice to find it plastered with sticky notes. Or when you woke up for practice only to be trapped in your bed by thousands of cups half-filled with water. Or when she had saran wrapped all of the pieces of your soccer kit. 

The pranks had been harmless, and in the beginning, you thought that it was just a tradition for a singular veteran to mess with their rookie, but then the pranks didn’t stop. You didn’t mind at first. You might have even secretly enjoyed the way Alex’s dimples looked after one of her tricks on you. Or how her cackle filled the room. You hadn’t minded being the butt of the joke if you got to hear that giggle. She was fucking gorgeous, and you may have had a tiny (massive) crush on the forward since before you even joined the team. The problem though was that the pranks hadn’t stopped. No, they seemed to be getting worse, and today you were truly not in the mood to deal with this shit. 

Team practice hadn’t gone well for you. You just couldn’t seem to get into a rhythm. You were groggy from being woken up at 3 am by your roommate Alex’s brilliant idea to dump ice water on you, and your sleepiness made it laughably easy for Emily to defend all of your attacks on goal. Your passes were sloppy and not even Lindsey’s jokes could lift your grumpy mood. You were incredibly relieved when Vlatko called practice and released you to all go change in the locker room. All you wanted to was to get back to the hotel and go to sleep. 

You ripped your soaked tank top over your head, tossing it on the bench beside you, and began digging through your bag in search of your favorite sweatshirt in hopes that it would provide some of the comfort that you were desperately craving. You groaned when you realized that it was missing. You dropped the bag, whipping around and glaring at the blue-eyed woman who was already smirking at you from across the room. 

“Ok, where the fuck is my shirt?” You growled, marching over to Alex. Her Cheshire cat-like smile widened at your rage, her eyes shining in the most hypnotizing way. 

“Why are you asking me, rookie?” She shrugged, bringing both of her hands up behind her head and stretching out her legs. God, she was enjoying the way your abs flexed with each annoyed breath you took. 

“Because you’re the only one who can’t seem to stop messing with my stuff,” You spat back, pointing your finger in her face. Her eyes left yours and shifted to the way your bicep was put on display with each angry jab of your finger. 

“What can’t take a joke?” She laughed, wiggling her eyebrows, proud that she could get this far under your skin. Sure there were more… pleasurable ways, but your adorable angry face made her hesitant to stop. That and the fact that you were almost 10 years younger than her. If she couldn’t have you the way that she wanted, well, this was a good substitute. 

“Not when I’m the only one who’s getting messed with,” You scowled, taking a step closer to the woman with each word until your finger is planted firmly in her chest. You try not to think about how her heart feels hammering against your finger, or how good she smells. You’re supposed to be angry, outraged. 

“Slow down kid. Why don’t you go shower first? By the time you get out, I’m sure your clothes will have turned up,” Ashlyn intervenes, appearing out of nowhere to wrap an arm around your middle and pull you away from Alex, who looks more amused than afraid. You weren’t known for being a hothead, but none of the girls had ever seen you get so pissed off. 

“No. Last time I showered in the locker room, someone dumped ice on me, and the time before that she doused my favorite sweats in paint. All I want is my shirt so I can get on the freaking bus,” You snarled, shoving your self-appointed team mom’s arm away from you. Alex didn���t want you here, that much was obvious. But you were here none the less and didn’t understand why she couldn’t just leave you the fuck alone. 

“I told you that I don’t have it,” She smirked, showing off her dimples as she raised her hands in innocence. She really didn’t have it, not anymore. It wasn’t her fault that you were generous enough to… donate it to a few of the kids who had snuck into the stadium to watch the practice. You lunged at the woman, the angry words coming out of your mouth as garbled gibberish, only to be stopped again by Ashlyn’s arm. 

“Alright, I think that’s enough. Take mine, and go get on the bus, and you stay away from her,” Ali said, with authority, stepping in between your very angry form and Alex’s laughing body. You struggled for a few more seconds, the team watching as frustrated tears left your eyes before you finally went limp. You shrugged Ashlyn’s arm off, pulling on the shirt Tobin offered you and huffed out the door. 

The room was silent, most of your team shocked by your outburst. You were usually like a little ray of sunshine, always smiling and laughing. They had never seen you so angry. Alex’s eyes were glazed over, staring into space. Who the fuck gave you the right to look so hot and adorable at the same time when you were pissed?

“You know, I think you’d have better luck if you just told her how you felt instead of acting like a middle school boy,” Kelley said after a few minutes, settling down beside the star forward and pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed. She didn’t like that she had hurt you, but finally admitting her feelings for you was too terrifying to even consider. Yes, she was acting like a child, but having you this way was better than having you avoid her because she freaked you out. Was it healthy to push you away to avoid rejection? No. But if she never told you how she felt, then you could never turn her down. 

“But she’s so cute when she’s mad, and have you seen those abs,” Alex murmured, biting her lip. Kelley shook her head. How oblivious could two people be? The two of you were always sharing longing glances, and you kept trying to be Alex’s friend, despite her horrible treatment of you. You both stared at each other like lovesick puppies, and she was tired of you getting hurt. 

“I’m sure she’d willingly show them to you if you asked, rather than destroy her property,” Kelley grumbled, and the rest of the room snorted. Just because the two of you were oblivious to each other didn’t mean the rest of the team followed suit. If they could just convince Alex to get over her hesitance due to the age issue, or the fear of rejection, then the entire team dynamic would be better off. They really needed to get rid of the sexual tension that followed the two of you as it was always a bit distracting.

“Hm…” Alex hummed back noncommittally. Why would you pick her over someone like Mal, or Emily or any one of the other youngins you were always hanging with? In her mind you wouldn’t, and why would she need to tell you about her feelings if the plan was already set into place for her to see your abs again. The team shared worried looks, knowing what Alex’s demeanor meant, they could only hope that it wasn’t as bad as the time she had turned all of your t-shirts into crop tops.  

*****

They would find out exactly what she had done not even two hours later. Most of the team was gathered in the conference room munching on whatever food the staff had put out for them. They hoped that excitement for the day was done, but Alex’s smirk and the bouncing of her leg told them that it wasn’t.

You had avoided everyone when you arrived at the hotel, longing for a hot shower and a good nap before you had to deal with the fallout of your outburst. Everything had been going fine until you caught a glance at yourself in the steamy mirror. Your normal Y/H/C was far from its normal shade. 

“What the actual fuck Alex,” You yelled, slamming open the dining-room door, and storming up the women in question. She took in your very angry, very wet form staring down at her clad in nothing but a sports bra and some basketball shorts. She could only assume that you had seen your hair before you had the chance to put on a shirt. 

“How do you know that it was me?” She smiled up innocently at you, biting her lip at the fact that your abs (which just happened to have little water droplets dripping down them) were mere inches from her face. 

“Because who the fuck else would think dying my hair pink was a good idea, and you’re the only one that had the other key to our room” You spat, clacking your teeth and lifting a strand of the hair in question.

“Well, you did say that you needed to liven it up a little bit,” She shrugged. Maybe it was more of the fact that she had thought you would look better in pink, the same shade of pink as her favorite pre-wrap. At least she hadn’t been wrong. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” You glowered, running a frustrated hand through you now ruined hair. You had wanted to do something cool, like different shades of blue and teal, but now you looked like a fucking flamingo. 

“Mmm, did I?” She challenged and her interest peaking as you turned your glare to the floor. It seemed that all Alex wanted was to humiliate you in front of the world, and now she had gotten her wish. You shook your head, it was fine when the pranks were kept within the team, but this was so much farther beyond that. There would be no way for you to hide this from the media, and you weren’t looking forward to their mean comments. 

“You know what, I don’t know what your fucking problem is with me, but I’m sick of you fucking picking on me,” You growled, channeling your frustration and raising to your full height. She may never feel the way you felt about her, but that didn’t give her the right to be an asshole.  

“I don’t have a problem,” She denied, but the gloating smile on her face told you differently. 

“I’d beg to differ. What did I ever do to you to make you fucking hate me?” You finally broke, unable to hold back your frustrated tears any longer. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Your fingers tugged roughly at your hair. 

“I don’t hate you Y/n,” Alex said softly, her joyful demeanor crumbling, her shoulders slumping. She hadn’t meant to push this far, it had just been so hard to stop. 

“Do you just think I’m not good enough? I swear that I won’t bring the team down. I can get-” You started to ramble, your tears making it very difficult to understand what you were saying. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you failed to notice the soft hands gripping your shoulders or the fact that Alex’s face was getting very close to your own. 

Her lips touched yours midway through your self deprecating rant, your eyes growing wide when her soft flesh touched your own, before slamming shut and remembering that it was probably a good idea to kiss her back. And you did. Your lips moved in harmony, a symphony of fireworks exploding behind your eyes.

You had dreamed of this moment for as long as you would remember, praying that one day you would finally be given the chance to fight for the woman’s heart. You had all but given up hope that she felt the way you did, but with her tongue gently probing your bottom lip, you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your chest. Her hands migrated from your shoulders to the baby hairs at the back of your neck, pulling your closer, while yours found the curve of her hips. 

Air became an issue within seconds, and you reluctantly pulled away, taking in large gulping breaths, and instead of taking a step back, Alex followed you, connecting your foreheads. 

“What?” You asked breathlessly, trying to ignore both the loud wolf whistles of your teammates and the heat from your blushing cheeks. 

“I’m was being an ass, and I’m sorry,” “It’s just, I didn’t know how to tell you. You’re just so young, and to be honest, the way you make me feel scares the crap out of me,” She confessed, and you could see the honesty and insecurity in her bright blue eyes. You placed a sweet kiss on her lips, realizing that you were slowly becoming addicted to them. 

“So you thought it was better to push me away then to tell me that you liked me?” It was your turn to smirk at her. 

“It’s not an excuse. I’m so sorry that I hurt you, and if you hated me, I would understand,” She mumbled, leaning peck your lips this time, and you huffed. 

“I don’t hate you. I’ve actually had a crush on you for the longest time…” You giggled, pinching the skin that was exposed by her shirt riding up. You would never admit it, but you had plastered your walls with posters of the women’s national team growing up, and you may or may not have had a propensity doodle your favorite players number all over all of your notebooks. 

“Hmm,” Alex hummed against your lips, wondering exactly how long ‘the longest time’ was, and thanking her lucky stars that she hadn’t entirely fucked up her chances with you. 

“Does this mean you’ll stop messing with me,” You whined, pulling away from her face and burying your nose in her neck. 

“As long as I don’t have to steal your stuff anymore to see those abs,” She giggled at your adorableness, running her hands through your newly pink hair. You sighed in contentment into her neck. 

“Why don’t you buy me dinner first,” You muttered sarcastically raising your eyebrow and, leaning back to finally look her in the eyes. 

“I think that can be arranged,” She shot you a wide smile, her cheeks turning blood red when your teammates started cheering again, bantering about how you two finally got your shit together. 

“I can’t believe Alex basically pranked her way into your pants,’ Kelley snorted after a few minutes, and you couldn’t help the cackle that left your lips. You were smooth, but no one was smoother than Alex. Hopefully, she could woo you as well as she could prank you.

[kuroopaisen]

harbour. (iwaizumi hajime)

➵  you give iwaizumi some loving, grounding affection during a time of mundane strife. 

wc: 1.6k

warnings: depictions of stress, some swearing

a/n: this is based off a request i got, where the anon asked that “[iwaizumi’s] s/o make it their life mission to have him know that they’re his biggest fan!” i hope this suffices! unbeta’d. 

Iwaizumi could usually handle a bad day. But this one? This one was worse than most.

Exam season was bad enough, but throw in two physiology courses that he barely comprehended, and he’d effectively lost at least seven hours of sleep. But life sailed on despite exams, and that meant he still had work.

And it was almost like the entire world was on edge, tense and irritable as he was. He could normally handle the shit thrown at him as a retail worker, but everyone wanted to test his patience again. Pointless, round-about questions he couldn’t answer to their liking, rude customers who thought it was their right to call him names, screaming children throwing up on the floor…

Everything was compounding, a violent tempest of bullshit that he couldn’t outrun. It was the sort of bad day that he felt he might drown under.

By the time he got back to your apartment, you knew.

He didn’t even need to say anything.

You ushered him to the bedroom, ignoring his protests as you pressed your hands against his back.

“Lie down,” you hummed, kissing him on the cheek. “You look exhausted.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but he complied. He could never say no to you, after all.

As he laid himself down, letting some of the tension in his muscles ease away as they made contact with the mattress, you rushed to the kitchen. A flick of a switch and the kettle’s boiling while you rifled through your cupboard in search of some chamomile.

In the bedroom, Iwaizumi closed his eyes, letting the clatter from the kitchen bring him some sense of comfort. No matter how difficult things got, no matter how much he doubted himself… you were always here to welcome him home.

You swiftly prepared the chamomile, mixing in half a teaspoon of honey and a tiny bit of cold water. You pattered back to the bedroom as gracefully as you could, your eyes trained on the surface of the tea to make sure it wouldn’t spill over on your way. It came dangerously close, but you were proud of the fact that this voyage had ended with no casualties.

You set the tea on the bedside table – not before grabbing a coaster, of course, lest you wanted Iwaizumi to get grumpy about the stains it would leave – and settled yourself on the mattress next to him.

Iwaizumi sat up, stretching his arms over his head with a groan. God, he was sore. He’d spent all these years playing volleyball, and for what? One bad day at work and he felt like a geriatric.

“Long day?” You asked, hand finding its way to one of his knees.

“People are such assholes,” he mumbled, running his hands down his face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You pouted, your heart aching at just how exhausted he looked. Iwaizumi was more steadfast than most, a rockface that could handle the toughest of storms. But even the strongest of rocks could bleed sand in a tempest.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “If I tell you the story, I’ll just give myself an aneurism.”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“It’s just…” He took a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter closed as he leant against the headboard. “Everything’s…” He searched for the words, for any way to describe what was going on in his head. But the storm was too thick, and if there was a lighthouse nearby, it’s beam wasn’t strong enough to cut through the rain.

“I’m sorry, love,” you hummed, picking up his hand and bringing it to your lips.

Iwaizumi lifted his heavy eyelids, watching you through a haze of fatigue. Sometimes, he just didn’t know what to say to you. He was more reticent than most, his emotions kept away in tightly sealed barrels in his hold, well out of reach for most people. You asked for more from him than anyone else, but he gave it willingly.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You squeezed his hand in response, looking at him with nothing but empathy. He never felt coddled by you, or like you were treating him with pity. You always met him in the middle with love and respect.

“Is it uni?” You asked.

He nodded. “Some of it.” Physiology was giving him a headache, and he just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around some of the core concepts. But if he couldn’t get an anchor on physiology, then his entire career path was in jeopardy.

He’s not the sort to get stuck in such catastrophic thinking, but even Iwaizumi could fall prey to exam season.

“It’s all… a lot,” he mumbled. He didn’t pride himself on his eloquence, but even that seemed dense to him.

“With work, too?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. It felt like a rock was caught in his throat,

He cleared his throat as if to dislodge it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to hear him over the fray.

“Sometimes it feels like I’m not capable of this.”

You let the words hang between the two of you for a bit. They’re heavy, thick, dense with bottled emotions. You know your boyfriend is prone to bouts of insecurity, but he was usually good at getting over them. But sometimes they would linger, sticking to him like the humidity after a bad summer storm.

You had a few ways of dealing with this, but they were all quite different. It wasn’t always easy picking out what would be the most effective.

But, he’d told you how he’d felt. He’d opened up, even if just by a little bit. Maybe, just maybe, you had an idea.

“Do you want me to get cheesy?” You said, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He smiled softly, his other hand coming up to brush your cheek. “If you must.”

Your heart hurt at those words. He really was tired.

“Relax,” you smiled, patting the hand he’d placed on your cheek. He drew it back, letting his shoulders slump a little.

“Well, first of all, you’re very hot,” you said, lifting up his wrist gently and kissing his forearm.

He chuckled at that. The sound is enough to soothe your own worries.

“Second of all, you work harder than anyone I know,” you hummed, letting his arm drop and placing your arms either side of his hips. You propped yourself up so that your eyes met his.

“Thirdly, you’re the most reliable person I’ve ever met, and I know I can trust you with anything,” you said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Iwaizumi swallowed roughly, his eyes trained on your face. You didn’t know what was going on in his head, but he hadn’t told you to stop yet.

“You take such good care of me, and I couldn’t be more grateful.” A kiss to his cheek.

“And you can be really damn funny when you want to be.” A kiss to his other cheek.

“You’re always reminding me to respect myself, but you still call me out for my bullshit.” A kiss to each of his eyes.

You drew back, eyes scanning his face for his reaction. He was blushing right to his ears, his face a beautiful scarlet. You smiled to yourself; it was hard to get the Iwaizumi Hajime flustered these days, so you’d take even the smallest of victories.

“And,” you hummed, leaning in close. “I think you’re wonderful.”

You kissed him on the lips, smiling as you felt him melt under your touch.

You giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “Was it too much?”

He grumbled something incomprehensible, one hand coming up to rest on your waist.

“You’re wonderful,” he hummed, cupping your face with one of his hands. “You know that?” He ran his thumb over your cheek, the pad of it a little rough. It didn’t bother you; it never had.

“Well, I certainly know that I can’t be that bad,” you grinned, placing your hand over his. “You’re dating me, after all.”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. God, you loved that sound. “You should give yourself more credit.”

“Only if you do the same,” you pouted, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He sighed into it, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You pulled back, gazing at him tenderly.

“And you will train under Utsui-sensei, and he’ll adore you,” you grinned, bringing his fingers up to your lips and kissing them.

“I’ve got to graduate, first,” he smiled, giving your hand a squeeze.

“And you’ll do that,” you said. “It’s physiology you’re struggling with, right?”

He nodded. You’d worked it out yourself, huh?

“Well…” You bit your lip, gazing at the roof. “Let’s do our best to get some study done tonight. It doesn’t need to be a lot, but… you’ll be grateful you got a head start.”

It’s the exact thing he’d say to you, whenever you felt like this.

And because of that, he knew he couldn’t refute it. He gazed at you for a long moment, a strange fuzzy lightness in his chest. “Alright.”

“And then we can watch Brotherhood,” you beamed, hopping off the bed. “That’s even more incentive to get your work done.”

“For you, maybe,” he teased.

“Look, even you’ve got to admit that it’s the best shounen ever made.”

“I’m not so sure,” he said, well-aware of what he’d just started.

As you began to ramble about how he’s wrong, Iwaizumi can’t help but feel grateful. Even in the most violent of storms, he wasn’t alone. You were always there with him, helping him find his way, helping him anchor himself in a harbour.  

[unbridgeabledistances]

Prompt: mickey is walking with Franny when Terry shows up. Mickey protects Franny. Franny runs home where ian and family are and shouts that a man is hurting uncle mickey. Basically hurt mickey, protective ian. Ian conforting Mickey afterwards!

anon this is so GOOD !!! i LOVE some mickey & franny content, plus gallavich comfort :’) this is somewhat intense and got way too long lol, but the whole thing was so fun to write and i hope u enjoy <3

also my asks are open for more prompts! (since i am on winter break & bored out of my mind lol)

& ofc, tw for homophobia and physical violence

--

“C’mon kiddo! Bet you can’t catch me!”

“Yes, Uncle Mickey, yes I can!”

The sun was beating down onto the slushy pavement of the South Side, reflecting off the gritty late-winter snow that remained on the sides of the road and nearly blinding Mickey as he tried to lightly jog down the slippery sidewalk, just outside of Franny’s reach. Franny, who was a tottering bundle in her thick winter coat, a scratchy-looking red woolen scarf Tami had given her for Christmas, and a pink sparkly winter hat Debbie had forced over her ears before Mickey took her outside to play, was running as fast as she could to stay on Mickey’s heels.

Mickey hadn’t meant to take Franny as far away from the Gallagher house, into the winding South Side neighborhoods, as he had—Debbie was having some sort of meltdown about her business going to shit after a situation with organic snacks and climbing out a window (Mickey wasn’t even going to ask)—and sensing tensions were high, Mickey had pulled Franny out the back door to run around and play “gangsters,” her new favorite game, with the toy guns he’d gotten her for Christmas. They were going to stick to playing in the backyard, mostly because it was fucking freezing and almost dark outside, until Franny was about to encroach on Mickey’s fictional gang’s territory under the porch stairs, and of course Mickey couldn’t have that—so now they were racing through the streets, with Franny giggling and practically tripping over her own clunky winter boots every few steps.

“Is that all you’ve got, Wonder Woman? Come and get me!” Mickey called to Franny over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get you! I will, Uncle Mickey!”

Mickey chuckled as he kept running, and felt his heart soften. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, and how often he always froze in panic anytime he’d had to take care of Yev back in the day, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

And that also just made him depressed, because he knew that she was going to grow up surrounded by all of this bullshit—the dysfunctional family, Frank’s shenanigans, the drugs and beat downs, the mom with an ankle bracelet. Right now, Franny was just a kid—the neighborhood hadn’t taken its toll on her yet.

Luckily, Mickey didn’t have shit to do all day—he barely had a job aside from security for Kev and V’s practically non-existent pot side business, so he had plenty of time to play with Franny. If he could do anything with his life right now, he could make sure that Franny had some happy memories to cut through all the bullshit life was inevitably about to throw to her.

Mickey continued to run, lost in thought, until Franny caught up to him and sharply tugged on the back of his coat.

“I win, Uncle Mickey, I win! Now I’m gonna blow your face off!” Franny said with a playful scowl as she held up her toy gun.

Mickey chuckled and put his hands up in the air in resignation, turning to face Franny. “Alright, kid, you got me. Nice work.”

He held his hand out for Franny to high-five, which she gave willingly before pulling off her sparkly pink hat and throwing it on the ground.

“I’m too hot. Uncle Mickey, can we go home now? I think I know the way back.”

Mickey ruffled her hair. “Sounds good, kiddo. Lead the way.”

Just as they were about to start walking in the direction of the Gallagher house, a gruff voice came from behind them, mingling with the blowing wind.

“Mickey?”

Oh fuck.

Mickey turned around slowly, giving a quick mental prayer to whatever god that existed, if god even did fucking exist, that the voice he heard wasn’t the one he thought he had.

In the end, it was as bad as his worst nightmare.

Terry stood six feet in front of him on the ice-caked sidewalk, a lit cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth (just like it always was), his hands visibly curled into fists by his sides. Mickey took in a sharp breath, and tried to quell the wave of panic overtaking him. Calm the fuck down. Mickey tried to remember the checklist of what he always had to do when he saw his dad, a survival tactic he hadn’t had to think about for months: Keep your eyes down. See if you can smell alcohol. Look at his waistline and see if he has a gun.

Mickey’s eyes flickered to Terry’s pockets. No gun, thank fucking god. He slowly reached out behind him to take Franny’s tiny gloved hand, mentally cursing himself for letting them walk this far from home. Then he looked Terry in the eyes and swallowed. You can do this.

“Hiya, pops. What’re you doing over here on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, his stance still aggressive, but he remained rooted a safe distance away. “Don’t make fucking small talk with me, fairy boy.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you around here.”

“Well, I guess today’s your lucky day. About time for a family reunion.”

Terry gave a bitter, menacing chuckle that sent a shiver of remembrance down Mickey’s spine. “Who’s the kid?”

“Uh. It’s Debbie’s kid.” My niece, he bit back. My husband’s sister’s daughter.

Franny looked up at Mickey, not in confusion but in wide-eyed understanding. Franny was only five, sure, but she wasn’t stupid; she’d seen her fair share of violent shit go down on the street in front of her, and she knew what aggression looked like—what it looked like when someone was about to attack. Mickey looked back at her, and ever-so-slightly raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a warning. Get ready to run, kid.

“Huh.” Terry threw his cigarette butt on the ground, slowly grinding the ash into the slush with the toe of his shoe. “Funny that you’re out here with her, all on your own. No one else on the street, not for blocks.”

Mickey exhaled, attempting to still his racing heart. On a different day, when he wasn’t so caught off guard by Terry’s presence, he would have ended this here and now; pulled a gun and put a bullet right through his father’s homophobic skull. But Terry was right—there was no one outside for miles, no one stirring behind the curtains of the houses lining the streets, no one to call for help if Terry physically overpowered him and kicked the life out of him. And Franny was still holding his hand.

“Yeah, well. We’re just goin’ for a walk. And we’re gonna head back now, if you’re… done.”

Terry held Mickey’s gaze, unblinking. When he spoke, his voice was low and ice cold. “When the fuck was I ever done with you?”

It all happened in an instant, but also in terrifyingly smooth slow motion—Terry charged at Mickey, fists raised, skidding across the ice in a blur.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you deformed excuse for a Milkovich!”

Terry was seething with the same fiery anger as when he flipped the table at Yevgeny’s christening, the night he found out that Mickey was gay—as he raced across the pavement, all Mickey could do was think about how to get Franny out of here before his father’s fist connected with his face. He gently shoved Franny behind him towards the sidewalk leading to the Gallagher house.

“Go, Franny, go!” He choked out, before Terry thrust a punch to his stomach and Mickey doubled over, kneeling on the damp sidewalk.

Terry’s shadow hovered over Mickey, and he knelt down, grabbing the hair at the scruff of Mickey’s neck. Mickey could smell his breath, all stale cigarettes and burnt coffee, like it had been for the past thirty years of his life.

“Been waiting a long time for this,” Terry said through his teeth. Mickey gathered every ounce of strength that he could— thank you, Kev Fit membership— and crashed his own head into his father’s, toppling him over and pinning him down. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, and saw Franny’s bootprints leading down the street, saw a flash of a red scarf turning the final corner a few blocks down. Thank god.

Terry squirmed under Mickey’s iron grip on his wrists. “Get off me, assfucker!”

“Sorry, Dad, no can do.” Mickey could almost grin. All he had to do was knock his dad out cold, and this whole thing could be over—

Out of nowhere Terry’s right arm broke free, striking Mickey’s side and toppling him onto the pavement.

“I’ve got you now,” Terry drawled, and that was the last thing Mickey heard before Terry’s boot stuck into his side and he saw stars.

**

The sun had almost set beneath the clouds, casting a warm glow through the front windows of the Gallagher house. Ian and Carl sat in the living room, engaged in particularly immersive debate about the accuracy of cop drama TV shows in an attempt to drown out Debbie’s continued melodrama of reading her bad Yelp reviews.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, there’s no way an EMT would actually get to the scene that quickly anyways—"

There was a soft series of frantic knocks at the front door, so gentle Ian barely would have heard it if the TV volume wasn’t turned to a low hum. Ian sprang up and swung the front door open to… Franny?

A tear-stained, snow-soaked Franny, with matted hair and a scarf hanging half off her neck.

“Uncle Ian! Uncle Ian, we have to go help Uncle Mickey!”

What the fuck?

“Franny, what’s the matter?” Ian tried to gently guide her inside out of the cold, but Franny stomped her boots and shoved Ian’s hand away.

“We have to go now Uncle Ian! A man is hitting Uncle Mickey! We have to go quick!”

Ian froze. Shit. There were plenty of people who wanted an excuse to beat the crap out of Mickey, most of whom Mickey could take— but regardless, Ian didn’t want anyone fucking up Mickey’s parole.

“Oh, shit. Okay. Franny, can you take me to Uncle Mickey?”

Franny fervently nodded. “He’s up the street. I was chasing him when we were playing.”

Ian turned to call over his shoulder. “Hey, can anyone help me back Mickey up in a fight with some dude?”

Carl put his hands up in resignation. “Don’t look at me, man. I should be a mile away from any instance of Mickey breaking his parole.”

Sandy darted into the living room, from the kitchen where she had been consoling Debbie. “Mickey’s in a fight?”

“Apparently. He was playing with Franny down the road and now Franny’s back here.”

Sandy looked at the disheveled Franny standing in the doorway. “Shit. I’ll grab my shoes.”

“Uncle Ian, we have to go now!”

“Okay, we’re coming Franny. Lead the way.”

**

Franny guided them down the sidewalk, the three of them casting dark shadows onto the roadside piles of snow as the sun disappeared beneath the clouds. “This way!”

Ian didn’t really know what he was expecting to see as they turned the final corner, the street almost totally enveloped in darkness— maybe Mickey pinning some guy up against a wall, or in the back of a cop car. But he was certainly not prepared to see Mickey as a static heap sprawled on the sidewalk, while the unmistakable figure of Terry Milkovich stood above him, pummeling Ian’s husband.

Sandy noticed Terry’s presence before Ian could even react to what was going on. “Uh, Franny, hey, can you walk back to the house please?”

Before he knew what he was doing, Ian’s feet were sprinting down the street. “Terry! Get the FUCK off of him!”

Ian could barely register his body’s movements as he smashed his fist into Terry’s nose and tackled him to the ground. Terry spit in Ian’s face. “Fucking Gallagher!”

Ian hit Terry once again, keeping him pinned down. He struck him over and over, not stopping to process if he was even moving, or breathing, or fighting back.

“Hey! Everyone calm the fuck down!”

Ian looked up over his shoulder—Sandy was standing above them, pointing a gun directly at Terry, whose face was now bashed and bloody.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, my dear Uncle Terry,” Sandy said in a sickly-sweet voice that didn’t match her iron gaze. “Ian’s going to get off of you, and you’re going to stand up and walk down the street back to your shithole house. And you’re going to watch your fucking back, because you never know when I could decide to come home one night while you’re asleep and make you regret everything you did this evening. Are we clear?”

Terry’s eyes narrowed, panting as he stayed pinned beneath Ian. “Those Gallagher queers got you too, huh?”

Sandy cocked the gun even more aggressively in Terrys direction, her thumb teasing the safety.

“That’s not how it works, dumbass. Unlike some pieces of garbage in this neighborhood, the Gallagher family actually cares about each other. Now—are we clear?”

Terry scowled at Ian, and gave a curt nod. “Get the fuck off me, fag.”

Ian didn’t budge. “Sandy, no,” Ian snarled.

“Ian, we’ll deal with him later.”

Ian looked up at Sandy, who met his eyes with an expectant gaze, still holding the gun directly at Terry. It took every ounce of strength Ian had to kneel and rise from the ground—it would be so easy to knock Terry out, to tell Sandy to pull to trigger, to put all the pain he’d caused behind them. To finally feel safe.

Terry immediately stood, and looked at Mickey on the ground, practically unconscious and his blood mingling with the snow. Terry opened his mouth to say some final retort— but Sandy clicked off the safety of the gun, steadily pointing it in his direction, and Terry promptly closed his mouth again. He turned and walked away.

Ian was immediately at Mickey’s side. “Fuck, Mickey, fuck.” Ian choked out. “Hey, look at me.”

Mickey had definitely hit his head, hard—there was a gash on his forehead dripping blood down his face, just like the night of Yevgeny’s christening when they’d watched Terry be forced into the back of a cop car. He looked up at Ian, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. Ian quickly scanned the rest of Mickey’s body—aside from a few solid kicks to the ribs, his head injury seemed to be the only major issue. Ian gently ran a hand through his hair.

“Mickey, hey, can you stand up? We’ve gotta get you home.”

First, get Mickey home— only then could Ian actually let himself process everything that had happened, and swallow down the bile rising from his stomach. First, Mickey had to be safe.

Sandy leaned over next to Ian. “Do you think we’re gonna have to carry him?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Can you grab his legs?”

**

Mickey forced his heavy eyelids open, hazy and disoriented. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep out of his eyes. The blurry outlines of he and Ian’s bedroom, cloaked in darkness, slowly came into focus. He could feel the scratchy crocheted blanket on top of him, but aside from that his limbs were so heavy and numb he could barely move. A dull pain throbbed in the back of his head. Fuck.

“You awake?”

Ian was curled next to him in bed, not touching any part of Mickey’s aching body but leaning in close, nearly a centimeter away. Ian’s hand reached up and gently wiped a damp piece of hair off of Mickey’s forehead. Mickey winced.

“Sorry. How d’you feel?”

“I’ve definitely felt better,” Mickey croaked. “What time is it?”

“Almost 1 a.m. You’ve been out for a few hours,” Ian replied in a low voice.

“Shit.” Mickey closed his eyes. They were silent in the darkness for a few moments, but Mickey could feel Ian’s eyes on him. “My head fuckin’ hurts. What’s your prognosis, doc?”

“You definitely have a concussion. It probably won’t be a big deal in a week or two. You don’t need stitches or anything, though. And I did some EMT magic on your ribs, which mostly just means I put ice on them while you were sleeping.”

Mickey smirked, his eyes still closed—partially from the headache, but partially because he didn’t want to look Ian in the eyes yet. “Franny okay?”

“Yeah, she’s all good.”

“And, uh. Terry?”

He could feel Ian stiffen beside him. “Probably at home, being the same lowlife asshole he always has been. Sandy pulled a gun on him.”

Mickey opened his eyes, and could see through the darkness that Ian’s own eyes looked puffy and worn. It killed him to see Ian suffering, once again, because of him— it felt like they were always battling something at every turn, sure, but in Mickey’s case, it was almost always Terry they were fighting against.

“Fuck. When I’m less tired, and my body feels less like shit, remind me to go kill him, yeah?”

Ian laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I almost tried that tactic myself. I think Sandy scared the shit out of him, though. We’ll figure out what to do if he… acts up again.”

Mickey knew it was a lot more complicated than that, and that in the morning he would probably be seething and grabbing his guns and marching down to Terry’s house with fire in his eyes, but they didn’t need to dwell on that right now. Right now it was quiet, and Ian’s body was pressed against his, and Mickey was wrapped in a warm blanket in a bed with his husband. They were safe.

“I’ve thought I’d lost you thousands of times, Mick, but tonight really scared me” Ian softly whispered, cutting through the silence. “I thought… I don’t know, when I saw you on the sidewalk, I thought after all the shit your dad has said, I might’ve been too late.”

Mickey took a sharp breath in, making his ribs sting, while Ian kept talking.

“When you were in jail, or in Mexico, I knew you were always out there, and I guess knowing that always kept me going. But knowing I could have lost you again tonight—I don’t know, it scared the shit out of me,” Ian said, his voice breaking.

Mickey mustered all the strength he had, and slightly shifted his weight onto his left side to face Ian, whose eyes were glassy. Beneath all of Ian’s macho shit the past few weeks, it was so easy to look at him and forget that he was still also that tired, scared kid from the South Side that Mickey met ten years ago, one who didn’t know if good things could be permanent or if other people could stick around. Mickey put his hand up to Ian’s face, running his thumb up and down his cheekbone.

“Hey. C’mere.”

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey—gently at first, like he was gliding his fingers over something precious, and then fully wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in the hair on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey could feel Ian’s heartbeat through his thin t-shirt, feel the warmth radiating off of his biceps that encircled him. Ian pressed a kiss to the top of Mickey’s head, where his forehead met his hairline.

“I’m here, Gallagher,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s skin. “I’m not going anywhere. No one’s gonna change that shit.”