#and so does stretching in the morning. mad about that one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miclipse · 21 days

Text

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ YOUR ROMAN EMPIRE.

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, michael kaiser (separate).

sypnosis: things he did that you often think about.

word count: 5.3k (~1.0k each)

cw: afab! reader, sfw, established relationships, nicknames used (baby, gorgeous, meine liebe, good girl, pretty girl), pre-wildcard! kunigami, mentions of period (rin's), kaiser being a smug bastard & also soft.

note: first time writing for the blue lock boys <3 comments appreciated!

ᯓ★ isagi yoichi ᝰ.ᐟ

“does it still hurt alot, baby?”

isagi, who was kneeled in front of you as you sat on the couch, continued pressing the ice pack against your swollen ankle.

his other hand was supporting the heel of your foot as he gently rotated it in circular motions to help ease the pain in the muscles.

your boyfriend lifted his head up to take a look at your expression, worried that the pain of your sprained ankle might be too unbearable for you if he didn't handle it carefully enough.

“a little… but it's getting better…” you mumbled out softly, feeling increasingly guilty the longer you watched isagi kneel in front of you and tend to what you could only call the consequences of your own actions.

“we have a treadmill at home for a reason. why'd you insist on taking a run outside when the ground was still all slippery and wet?” isagi's voice was soft and gentle, soothing the guilt in your heart slightly.

you thought isagi would've gotten mad at you, but he was still as loving and worried for you as ever despite all of this being your own fault.

it had rained earlier this morning, which isagi had already warned you about via text since he was away for his usual soccer practice.

but stubborn little you insisted that the rain would not interfere with your routine evening jog. you figured the damp floors would have dried up by the time you stepped out of the house.

oh, how very wrong you were.

in your defence, majority of the jog went smoothly. the problem only arose when you were about to make the final turn back to the familiar stretch of road that would lead back to your and isagi's shared apartment.

for some reason while you were turning the corner, your foot slipped. as an attempt to catch yourself before you fell face first into the cold hard concrete, your ankle twisted and ended up in an uncomfortable position.

you had to bite your tongue to hold yourself back from screaming due to the sudden sharp and piercing pain coming from your ankle.

when you finally managed to limp your way back to your front porch, you figured you could simply just eat some painkillers and sleep off the pain before your boyfriend got back from training.

but to your absolute horror and misfortune, the moment you opened the front door, you caught sight of your beloved boyfriend walking out from the kitchen with a cup of water in his hand.

the moment isagi saw you limping back through the front door in your sports attire, he immediately placed his cup on the kitchen island and rushed to your side to support you as he brought you to the couch to sit down.

“yeah, well… i thought the ground would've mostly dried up by the time i went out for my jog.” you gave isagi a sheepish and apologetic smile.

“well too bad, you thought wrong. and now look who's the one with a sprained ankle, hmm?” isagi continued to tease you with a soft chuckle, finally removing the ice pack from your inflamed ankle and placing the melted bag of gel down on the carpet.

“so? think you can stand up and walk on your own now?” isagi asked, lightly tracing circles on the bottom of your foot, leaving behind a ticklish sensation that got your foot to twitch and squirm in response.

seeing how your foot was flinching away from isagi's gentle touches, he merely smirked in amusement.

“not really, no.” you laughed, happy to keep things light-hearted despite the fact that you probably wouldn't be able to walk without support for the next few days.

but fret not. isagi was here to be your knight in shining armour, like how he always had been ever since you both started dating.

“do i need to push you around in a wheelchair like those elderly couples?” isagi joked, scooting himself closer to the side of the couch to get closer to you whilst he was still squatting down on the ground.

“well yeah, obviously. you don't expect me to roll around on the floor, do you?” you playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics, watching as he reached out to grasp your hand in his.

his thumb traced small, comforting circles on the back of your hand, making you sigh out in satisfaction at how lucky you were to have isagi yoichi as your boyfriend.

a smile graced his lips. not the kind of smile he had whenever he scored a goal, or the kind of smile he gave to his teammates and friends. it was a smile that was solely reserved only for you.

isagi reached his other hand out to caress your cheek, lightly pinching it as a way to show his absolute affection and devotion towards you.

“don't worry. i’ll be the one to push your wheelchair. be it right now, or 60 years down the road.”

you never knew the words that left his lips would take you back to the days where you were falling head over heels for isagi yoichi all over again, but it did.

it had been months since you last felt your heart beat so rapidly against your chest and that queasy feeling of butterflies in your tummy.

those words may seem simple at first glance, but when you analyze it beneath the surface level, it held so much more meaning.

isagi was making a vow to you, promising to stay by your side through thick and thin. even when your youth was nothing but a distant memory, he would still choose you.

he wanted to spend his entire life with you, even if it meant he would have to be pushing your wheelchair around when you were all old and wrinkly.

those words were isagi's true feelings for you,

and they have never left your mind ever since the day he said them to you. not that isagi would ever give you a chance to forget about them in the first place.

ᯓ★ bachira meguru ᝰ.ᐟ

“i’ve cut up some fruit!”

your boyfriend’s lively voice from the kitchen reached your ears as you sat in the living room couch, busily typing away on your laptop.

you resisted the urge to turn away from your laptop screen to reply to your boyfriend, instead choosing to continue typing away on your essay that was due today.

seeing as you did not reply, bachira held the bowl of fruits in his hand as he made his way towards you, who was so diligently working on your assignments.

“do you want some?” the happy boy leaned his face right in front of yours with a cheeky grin, knowing that his actions would get a reaction out of you, who had been ignoring him the past few hours or so.

and rightfully so— you knew better than anyone that if you were to shower bachira with even an ounce of affection, you would never be able to direct your focus back on the task at hand.

“mmm… i’ll eat it later. you can munch on some first.” you suggested absentmindedly, gently using your hand to push bachira’s face away out of your view so that you could focus on the half finished word document displayed on your laptop screen.

well, that did not work according to bachira’s plan.

seeing how you had been paying all your attention on your laptop for the past few hours made bachira a little (very) attention-starved. dating him was equivalent to having a golden retriever as a pet; both of them were very high maintenance beings.

bachira pouted at your dismissive attitude right now, but he understood that you really needed to finish this assignment before the clock struck midnight.

however, as unfortunate as it sounded, today was also one of the rare days where bachira’s training ended early and he was able to spend some proper quality time with you.

bachira let out a dissatisfied hum, the pout still on his lips as he contemplated what to do in order to achieve the goal of the day.

which was to gain your attention.

he looked back down into the fruit bowl he had prepared for the both of you to share, and it did not take long for the pout of his to turn into a mischievous smirk.

it took you a few moments longer than usual to realise bachira had fallen awfully silent. normally, he would not even give you an ounce of quiet, rambling on and on about anything and everything he could talk about to fill in the silence. yet you hadn’t heard him say anything after you told him to eat first.

it was your fault for not figuring out soon enough that whenever bachira fell silent, he was plotting something in his head.

because before you could even save the progress of your half-written essay to turn and look at your boyfriend, a piece of watermelon poked into a metal fork entered your line of sight, successfully enticing you.

blinking in surprise, you instinctively turned your head to look at the culprit with a raised eyebrow.

“meguru-”

“say ‘ahh’!” bachira knew you all too well, and so he cut you off before you could question what he was trying to do. “you do your report, and i feed you. how does that sound, gorgeous?” bachira added, nearing the fork of watermelon closer to your lips.

he gave you no chance to decline his offer, if you could even count it as that.

“...ahh…” eventually giving in to your boyfriend, you slowly parted your lips and took the watermelon in between your teeth, chewing down on the juicy fruit.

“how is it? does it taste sweet?” bachira asked with a wide and bright smile, wiping the watermelon juice that splattered on the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb.

you tried to hide how fast your heart was beating at the simple gesture. but seeing as how bachira started grinning from ear to ear, it didn't take a genius to know that he already noticed your rosy red cheeks.

“tastes yummy.” you remarked with a soft chuckle, turning your attention back to your laptop and typing away on your report. you were trying your best to ignore the loud thumping in your chest.

normally, bachira would have been more clingy and persistent about you paying attention to him, but today he acknowledged that this report was very important to you and played a huge part in your final grade.

thus, he chose to obediently sit by your side for moral support and feed you fruit as you worked away on finishing up your essay.

“mmm, you’re right, it is yummy!” your boyfriend agreed, popping a slice of watermelon in his mouth and chewing down on it. he kept this up, feeding you a piece of fruit and gently wiping away the juice on the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb before he fed himself a piece of fruit.

after a few minutes, it had finally come down to the very last slice of apple. bachira poked the apple with the metal fork, obviously planning to give you the last fruit in the bowl.

however, bachira’s mind was ever-functioning, and he managed to come up with yet another cheeky plan to surprise you.

“mind looking over for a second, gorgeous?” he called out to you with an innocent smile, waiting for you to stumble into his little trap.

“hmm? hold on.” you quickly typed out the last few words to finish up the sentence in your paragraph before finally turning to look at your boyfriend.

“yeah–?”

in a blink of an eye, bachira placed one end of the apple on your lips before placing the other end of the apple on his lips.

“what is this? the pocky challenge but with apples?” you joked, deciding to play along with bachira’s antics this time. you had ignored him for long enough, he deserved to get some affection from you. especially since he had been doing nothing but quietly sitting by your side and feeding you fruits.

“it’s a reward for working so hard.” bachira then took a big bite of the apple from his end. you followed suit until there was only a tiny chunk separating both your lips from each other.

“may i?” his whisper sounded almost pleading— he had restrained himself from clinging onto you as you worked on your assignment. but now that you were finally giving him your full attention, the boy was yearning for more.

“you may.” you reassured with a slight nod of your head, encouraging bachira to make the final move.

in which he did, biting down the last chunk of the apple before pressing his lips against yours.

it felt wonderful to have your lips moulded against his after being deprived from his affections for so long due to focusing on your essay. you chucked your laptop to the side of the couch, your arms snaking around his waist to make the kiss last longer.

perhaps a small break wouldn’t hurt...

ᯓ★ kunigami rensuke ᝰ.ᐟ

“oooh, what's going on there?”

the curiosity in you was building up when you noticed a crowd gathering just a distance away from the pathway kunigami and yourself were walking on.

as you pointed your index finger towards the crowd, kunigami turned his head to look in that direction before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“wanna go check it out?” he offered with a soft smile on his lips. you both had nothing important going on right now anyways. the two of you were just walking around the streets aimlessly and doing some window shopping to pass some time before you both would head for dinner.

“yeah!”

the way you chirped out happily in response, your eyes sparkling with excitement made kunigami's heart tighten with a certain fondness he couldn't exactly put into words.

before kunigami knew it, you were dragging him towards the crowd of people to see what all the commotion was about.

when the two of you were close enough, kunigami easily saw past the sea of crowd and his eyes eventually landed on a stage that was being setup with speakers and instruments, along with what seemed to be an amateur band preparing to perform.

“seems like it's a band performance. you interested to watch?” kunigami asked you. he had to raise his voice a little to beat the crowd’s volume, his eyes trailing back to look down at you.

oh.

your boyfriend was met with the sight of you standing on your tippy toes doing little subtle hops on the spot, trying to move your neck around to glance past the back of everyone’s heads, but unfortunately to no avail. you two were considered to be rather far back in the crowd, and everyone had a height advantage against you too.

sometimes kunigami would forget how short you were, or rather how tall he was as compared to you. things that he could easily do such as watching a performance at the back of a crowd was deemed as a challenge for his tiny and petite girlfriend.

kunigami was having an internal conflict with his inner voice on whether he should just push through the crowd so the both of you could make it to the very front of the stage (but also proceed to have a bunch of people glare at the two of you throughout the whole performance).

kunigami was the number one fan of everything being fair and square. and as much as he found the situation unfair for you, he also understood that it would be unfair to literally everyone else if he just rudely pushed through the crowd to get to the very front solely for your sake.

it wasn’t that kunigami would not do anything for you, he would give up anything and everything for you. but in situations like these where the universe was giving him a test on whether he should side with his morals or your happiness, he found himself stuck in the middle.

eventually, you turned to look up at your boyfriend, your soft lips jutting out to form a pout.

“rensuke, i can't see.” that sweet voice of yours would've sent kunigami into a deep trance if he was a weak-willed man.

the man pursed his lips together, desperately digging his brain for any ideas on how to ensure you got to see the performance without making the rest of the audience mad.

then, it was like something clicked in his head. like as if a tiny mouse living in his noggin just attached the two correct wires together and allowed kunigami’s brain to come up with the perfect solution that will make you happy and stick to his morals of ensuring everything was fair and square.

moving his hand down to ruffle your hair affectionately, kunigami then proceeded to crouch down in front of you, his back now facing towards you.

the action made you stunned into place, staring at kunigami’s toned back in disbelief and confusion. “rensuke?” you called out, prompting him to provide some sort of explanation for his action.

“i’ll piggyback you. that way, you'll be able to see the performance, right?” kunigami asked, trying his very hardest to sound as calm as he could. he would die if you saw through just how flustered he was feeling at the moment.

kunigami was often deemed as a scary delinquent due to his built figure in addition to his height being a whopping 6’2, but only a rare few properly understood that he was nothing but a life-sized teddy bear.

and you were the only one that would ever get this special treatment from him.

when kunigami felt your plush thighs press against his neck and shoulders, he grabbed onto your lower calves to ensure you were steady on his back before he slowly stood up to his full height again.

“can you see the stage?” kunigami asked you with a small smile on his face. he could feel many pairs of eyes looking towards the two of you, but he couldn't blame them. he was the only one among the crowd that was carrying a girl on his shoulders.

although you were not used to the stares accompanied by a couple of girls gushing over how cute your boyfriend was to be openly carrying his girlfriend on his shoulders, you were filled with a sense of pride when hearing people whisper about what a good boyfriend kunigami was.

“i can see the world.” you joked, but you sounded amazed by the view. it was your first time getting such a clear view of everything you desired like it was a piece of cake.

“is this how it feels to view the world through your eyes, rensuke?” a soft giggle slipped through those soft lips of yours as you hugged your legs tighter around his neck to ensure that you would not fall off (but also making sure not to accidentally suffocate him in the process too).

“perhaps. but i wish you could see what i see whenever i look at you.” kunigami responded with a playful grin.

your heart skipped a beat at his words, suddenly feeling all giddy and floaty on the inside.

oh, how lucky you were to call this man yours.

ᯓ★ itoshi rin ᝰ.ᐟ

the familiar sound of the front door being opened was accompanied by your boyfriend's monotonous voice.

the words that escaped his mouth seemed habitual and subconscious, and you wouldn't doubt that he would still say the same exact thing even if you weren't around to receive his greeting.

“i'm home.”

you immediately sat up from the couch with a smile, turning to glance at your boyfriend so that you could return his greeting.

“welcome home, rin!” your enthusiastic response was something rin could never dream of getting tired of. no matter how many times this scene unfolded in front of him, it never failed to warm that stone-cold heart of his.

it just seemed to fulfill that hidden desire of his to finally feel loved and be appreciated by someone.

but of course, he would rather take this little secret of his down to the grave with him than ever letting you know about it.

“thanks.” rin responded, trying to seem nonchalant about your response. he had barely given a reaction to it for the past year, so why should he now?

“oh, what's that? did someone give you a gift for winning your game today?” rin used the back of his foot to gently kick the door shut behind him as you spoke, pointing at the basket in his hands out of curiosity.

“no, i bought these.” rin rolled his eyes at you. what made you think he would be accepting gifts from anyone other than his girlfriend? he wasn't that much of a sucker for attention from other girls.

before you could follow up with a second question on what was in the basket that looked to be stuffed to the brim with items, rin walked towards you and shoved the basket right in your face.

looking at rin with a raised eyebrow, you held the basket with both your hands and took a look in it, wondering what could rin possibly have bought for the basket to be looking so full yet barely having any weight to it.

inside, there were tampons and pads arranged neatly on the left side of the basket. it was plenty to last you for the next three to four months or so. and the right side was stuffed to the brim with chocolates and sweets that you remembered mentioning to rin about them being your favourite.

and if that wasn't jaw dropping enough, there was also a cute little teddy bear in the basket, staring right back at you with its cute little beady eyes and a cartoon smile.

“you're going to attract flies into your mouth. close up.” rin commented, scoffing in amusement at your reaction to his small gesture. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best to remain as indifferent as he could.

but if you took a closer look at him, you would realise that the tips of his ears held a faint red hue to them.

“but rin… what's this for? my period isn't even here yet.” you looked up at him with your stupidly wide eyes that could compare to a puppy's. seriously, sometimes rin wondered how you looked more like a dog than a human.

“yeah, but it's in two days, is it not?” that was a rhetorical question.

it wasn't that rin was genuinely asking whether your period was coming in two days, he knew. he was just telling you in a way that would make him feel like he held the upper hand against you, especially when it came to your own body.

he just wanted to challenge you to prove him wrong, as he always did. his confidence was always sky high— but rightfully so (in his opinion).

you blinked in surprise, grabbing your phone and unlocking it to check your period tracker. you had been losing track of time due to how busy you were that you hadn't even realised that rin was right. your period was coming in two days.

“how'd you know that?” you asked him back, seeming shocked that rin bothered to remember your monthly shark week. you were convinced he barely cared about dates that were not as important to him like anniversaries and your birthday.

“you think you're the only one with a period tracker app? i have it too.” rin answered, sounding as calm and nonchalant as he always did.

come on, it wouldn't hurt for him to show even an ounce of emotion. it was already so painfully obvious how much he loved and cared for you, it wouldn't bring any harm to be nice to you every now and then, would it?

“you're such a creep.” you tried to tease him in a serious tone, biting back the smile that threatened to show on your face. you were trying to get him to show his rare soft side.

but rin was one step ahead of you. he knew you better than the back of his hand, and he didn't hesitate to tease you back.

“i’ll take it as you don't want my gift then. might as well give it to another girl who'll appreciate it more than this ungrateful brat.” as if to entice even more of a reaction out of you, rin slowly edged his hand closer to the basket, threatening to take it away from you.

“what?! no! don't you dare!” you gasped, immediately hugging the basket protectively like it was your newborn baby.

that was exactly the reaction rin wanted out of you.

his cold facade was unable to further resist your cuteness and started to crumbled as a faint smirk ghosted his lips.

his hand that was once edging towards your basket (technically his, since he was the one that paid for everything) moved towards the top of your head to ruffle your hair.

silence filled the room, and you looked up at rin patiently with an anticipating smile on your face, waiting for him to finally say the words he had been holding back all this while.

“ i... i love you.” he eventually whispered out with a defeated sigh, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “don't ever forget that, ‘kay?”

rin knew he was bad at expressing his emotions. but he wanted to make sure to remind you from time to time that his feelings for you would never change. not now, not ever.

ᯓ★ michael kaiser ᝰ.ᐟ

“come.” kaiser patted his lap, a coy smirk on his lips as his sapphire eyes observed your figure standing by the bedroom door, not moving despite his command. “hurry up meine liebe, i don't have all day.”

those words were what finally made you obediently walk towards where kaiser was seated at; the chair just by the vanity table you both shared.

he rested his hand on the vanity table, rhythmically drumming his index finger on the surface of the table as his eyes remained fixated on you.

kaiser was a bold individual, and it was something you both hated and loved simultaneously.

he never tried to hide the fact how his eyes were always lingering on your body, staring at you like you were the next prey he wanted to devour.

even now, he watched intensely as your hips swayed from side to side while you walked across the bedroom to make your way towards him.

it was almost like you were strutting into the lion's den, volunteering to be his next meal.

and even as you finally lowered your hips and straddled his lap, kaiser didn't look away from you for even a second, the smirk on his face only growing more smug and cocky.

“you’re so cute, i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose to seduce me or not.” kaiser couldn't help but tease you, noting how your cheeks were rosy and the way you were trying to avoid his intense stare.

“quit it, mihya. didn't you say you were in a hurry?” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. it left you all weak and flustered, and you knew that kaiser took pleasure in seeing how he had the upper hand against you everytime.

you were nothing but a little mouse the lion planned to toy with for amusement before he eventually wolfed you down in his stomach.

“the emperor chooses his next move.” kaiser pointed his index finger at your cheek, slowly inching closer before gently giving you a little poke. “not you.”

despite his words, kaiser moved his hand away from your face to stop messing with you as he was not lying about being short of time.

his hand felt around the vanity table, before coming into contact with just the object he needed.

using his free arm to wrap around your waist to keep you steady in his lap, kaiser brought the eyeliner pen to his lips, using his teeth to bite the cover off before securing it on the back of the pen.

“be a good girl and sit still for me, hmm? i don't have time to redo it if you make me mess up.” typical of kaiser to push the blame onto you if he messed up. he was an egoist, thus his mistakes were never his. it was always someone else's.

he kept his hand steady as he moved the eyeliner closer to your face. once the tip of the red tinted pen was close enough to your skin, you closed your eyes so that kaiser could have an easier time applying it on you.

“you're so adorable for wanting to match with me, you know that meine liebe?” kaiser chuckled, using short and gentle strokes to draw the eyeliner onto your eyelids, just like how he would to himself every morning before he started his day. “you'll look gorgeous once i’m done with you, i promise.”

the room fell into a comfortable after kaiser's reassurance, as kaiser decided to direct his full focus on helping you apply the eyeliner. he didn't want to risk messing up.

afterall, he wouldn't have time to help you redraw it due to him having to rush to practice right after this.

you could feel goosebumps surfacing on your skin when you felt kaiser's hot breath hit your cheek. no doubt that he was intentionally leaning in closer to you just so he could get a reaction out of you, as he always did.

you could picture it in your head: his head tilted in an angle, his eyes squinted in concentration while gently drawing on your eyelids. it felt so comforting that you felt like you could fall asleep on his lap, but you resisted the urge to do so.

the sensation of kaiser stroking the eyeliner against your eyelids stopped, before the sound of him popping the cap back on the pen was heard.

“open your eyes, pretty girl. we're all done.” kaiser placed the eyeliner back in the drawer, his other arm still securely keeping you on his lap by holding your waist.

when you opened your eyes, kaiser's face was just inches away from yours. your eyes widened slightly at how close he was to you, trying to remain your composure.

the cocky smirk on his lips proved that he did this on purpose to entice a reaction out of you. before you could resist, your boyfriend leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“take a look in the mirror, liebe. don't you just look so beautiful?” kaiser whispered huskily in your ear, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger and guiding your face to turn towards the mirror on the vanity table.

you took a closer look at the reflection in front of you. you, sitting intimately on kaiser's lap whilst he had an arm slung around your waist and the both of you having matching red eyeliners. it looked…

“perfect.” you whispered it out loud without realising.

“oh? what was that?” kaiser leaned his ear closer to your mouth, taunting you to speak up so that he could hear you say it again, but louder.

“i said it looks perfect.” you replied without hesitation, and kaiser seemed satisfied by your obedience today. it was always a nice sight whenever you played along with his annoying and teasing nature.

“and you're perfect for me, liebe.” your boyfriend moved his hand to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the fat of it. “you don't understand how grateful i am to have you by my side.”

and you could just about say the same thing about him.

1K notes · View notes

hazbinwhoree · 2 months

Note

ADAM WITH A HEAVY BREEDING KINK WHEN???

Come Inside

Part 1/2 Part 2

A/N: This shit is absolutely sinful.

Adam’s breeding kink, much like his virginity kink, was rooted in his abandonment issues.

Normally, (Name) would feel a need to address that (therapy friend), but she couldn’t really care when he was inside of her, fucking her like he hated her.

Adam’s sex drive never failed to impress her. They’d already had sex that morning, and they were just watching a movie when suddenly he was on her again.

“Adam,” she giggled as he sucked on her neck. “We literally had sex two hours ago.”

“Not my fault you’re so fuckin’ sexy, babe,” Adam said against her neck. He continued marking her, one hand slipping under her shirt and fondling her breast, and one hand travelling down to rub between her legs over her sweatpants.

(Name) moaned. Adam removed his face from her neck and connected their lips in a passionate kiss. (Name) slipped her fingers under the base of Adam’s mask and pulled back. She looked at him, the question in her eyes. Can I? Adam nodded after a moment.

(Name) pulled his mask up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. (Name) smiled, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head forward to kiss him again. Adam kissed back with vigor, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

The hand fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and the hand that was rubbing between her legs suddenly slipped under her sweatpants and panties.

(Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam licked down the column of her neck. He slid two slender fingers into her, and (Name)’s breathing became heavier. He scissored his fingers experimentally before adding a third.

(Name) sighed, her head falling forward and resting her forehead against Adam’s.

Adam didn’t spend long loosening her up before shedding his own pants and boxers. (Name) began to tug her sweatpants down until Adam got impatient and yanked both her sweatpants and panties down to her ankles. (Name) kicked them off.

Adam sat down on the couch, manspreading and showing off his dick. “Come here, baby,” he patted his lap. (Name) crawled over and into his lap, his erection pressing against her pussy. She briefly realized they both still had their shirts on.

Adam seemed to realize it too. “We’re fucking like Winnie the Pooh.”

(Name) giggled, but it quickly became a quiet moan when Adam squeezed her tits, swiping his thumbs over her nipples. She ground down against his dick and they both moaned. She raised herself on her knees to allow Adam to line himself up with her opening.

Once he did, she sank down, letting out a gasp as he stretched her once again. “Ride it,” Adam demands, grabbing her ass. (Name) did, for about a minute, before her pace slowed down as her legs got tired. Adam got impatient, squeezing her ass and thrusting up into her, fast and hard.

It caught (Name) off guard, who cried out. She held onto his shoulders like her life depended on it, as Adam fucked her like he was mad at her.

So was his pace usually.

Tears brimmed at the corners of (Name)’s eyes. “Fuck,” she hissed. Adam stared at her intently. “Yeah? Does this feel good, babygirl?” (Name) whined. She loved when Adam talked during sex, he was always so dirty.

“Is my cock filling your pussy just right? God you’re so hot, you make me want to put a baby in you.” (Name) gasped, nearly reaching her peak. “Gonna cum so deep inside you.”

(Name) came, clenching around Adam’s dick. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him, the tightness pushing him over the edge. He snapped his hips upwards, burying himself to the hilt, and came inside of her.

(Name)’s stomach grew warm. She panted, moving to get off of Adam, but he grabbed her hips and pushed her back down on his dick. (Name) let out a strangled moan, overstimulated. Adam held her in his lap, keeping her plugged with his cock.

“Can’t waste any of my cum,” he told her, smirking. “I was serious. I’m gonna put a fucking baby in you.”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #smut #oneshot #oneshots #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty

2K notes · View notes

buckymorelikefuckme · 1 month

Text

drink up, me hearties

pirate king wanda x fem reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** consensual somno, oral, fi*ngering, scissoring, lesbians in ~love.

a/n: "ease back into it," i said. "take your time, there's no rush," i said... anyway, here's some seggs! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated! xo

part 1 ❀ part 2 ❀ part 3

Slumber begins to elude you, awareness trickling in slowly. Glaring sunlight shines directly across your face and you squeeze your eyes shut even tighter, turning away from it. Your brows furrow slightly, though, as a certain sensation starts to dawn on you, coming from between your thighs. It's almost ticklish, never failing to make you squirm, and you can never tell if it's to get away from it or to push closer.

The sound of it alerts you next, the wet glide of a tongue and slick sucking from full lips reaches your ears, and even before you open your eyes there’s a rush of heat surging to your cheeks. You know what you'll find once you glance down, and it does not disappoint.

Wanda is already staring back, a slow grin stretching across her mouth as she pulls away long enough to murmur, “Good morning, my angel,” and then she's right back to what she was doing.

You let out a raspy whimper as Wanda drags her tongue from your opening up to your clit, circling it lazily, just to make you writhe the way she loves. Her cheeks are flushed, likely from the combination of also having woken up recently and from the way she's taken to waking you up. Atop her head, her hair is a wild mess, tangled in places and sticking up in others. She's still the most handsome person you've ever seen.

Of their own volition, your thighs spread that much further, allowing your lover more space to do as she pleases. It is in your favor that what she decides to please is you.

She has your sleeping gown rucked up around your waist, and you know without even asking that she probably grumbled to herself about it being in the way, since she prefers to sleep in the nude and has begged you to do the same, but you can't help worrying about one of the crew finding you in such a vulnerable state.

And it’s not like it really matters anyway, what with the extremely thin material it's made of leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination of what lies beneath it. You can see your nipples tightening through it and it makes you feel like a harlot, though you've learned to appreciate that feeling, have embraced it after Wanda’s hearty encouragement.

Your thoughts are stripped away in an instant when Wanda begins sloppily kissing her way down to your entrance, dipping her tongue inside the same way she does your mouth. You moan, high and drawn out, sliding a hand down to bury in her hair, not to guide, but for something to hold on to. She makes a noise of contentment and continues to slowly thrust her tongue in and out of you.

The pacing is driving you to madness, practically glacial, like there's no rush, like she isn't making every inch of your skin tingle with anticipation. Your pleasure builds and builds, inching closer to your high, but so slowly you feel as if you could cry.

Suddenly, you feel her fingers join her tongue, and your legs attempt to clamp around her head, but with a soft huff, Wanda is pushing them open again, using her arms to keep them that way. Your pussy immediately clenches down on her fingers, a strangled whine catching in your throat, hips twitching up into her touch. She groans, the vibration of the sound only adding to everything else her mouth and hands are doing.

With your free hand, you tug your sleeping gown even higher, exposing the rest of your torso to the warm morning air, just so you can pinch at your nipples. You gasp as you do, the spark of pain sending a zing of pleasure straight to your core. Wanda moans at the sight, blessedly picking up the pace of her fingers. She pauses every few thrusts to curl them against your sweet spot, rubbing at it incessantly until you're crying out so loud you're sure someone’s heard you.

You let go of her hair, using that arm to prop yourself up on your elbow so you can better watch what she's doing. Although, as you stare at the way her fingers glisten with your wetness, see it shine on and around her mouth, and as you meet her heated gaze, you're not sure if it was the most intelligent choice. Your head drops back, baring your throat as you pant for breath, thighs trembling on either side of Wanda. Your fingers haven't stopped plucking at your nipples, and as you approach your climax, you pinch harder, twist tighter.

Wanda focuses her mouth back on your clit, sucking on it harshly, forcing out sob after sob from you. Your hips jerk upward, wordlessly begging for more. Happy to oblige, Wanda squeezes your thigh in silent command to leave it there, then uses her other hand to replace her mouth on your clit, rubbing at it in quick circles.

“Wanda,” you cry out, curling forward briefly before falling onto your back once again, knees hitching higher.

“You sound so fucking beautiful,” she praises, her voice still a little gravelly from sleep. “Look so perfect taking my fingers.”

“Please, Wanda,” you beg, so close to the earth-shattering orgasm you're sure is on the horizon.

She kisses at the crease of your thigh, sucks a mark there for good measure. “I simply cannot wait for your present from the glass blower.”

Your toes curl at the reminder. She'd put in a special order for a piece that would be… phallic shaped. Just thinking of something filling you more than her fingers—which are already incredibly talented in their own right—has your back bowing off the bed, breath seizing in your lungs, as every ounce of white-hot pleasure pools in your cunt, and like a dam breaking, you come with a gasping wail. Your entire body jerks through your climax and you sob as Wanda draws it out even longer, trying and failing to catch your breath.

Which is only made harder when Wanda abruptly pulls away, and you foolishly think you can finally begin to relax, but then she's quickly climbing up the bed and straddling one of your legs, aligning her warm, wet pussy with yours and grinding them together messily. You whine as she groans, pushing the leg she's not sitting on higher, clutching it so hard you're sure her fingernails will leave marks. Your pussy is still so sensitive after coming, and you try to wriggle and writhe, but she's using her strength to hold you down, and it only succeeds in furthering your desire.

“Close, so close,” she gasps, head tipping back towards the ceiling.

Your vision blurs with tears as you're pushed into oversensitivity, but the burn of too much feels much too good to really try and stop it. With hiccuping cries, your own fingers dig into any part of Wanda that you can reach, bucking up into her filthy grinding to help her chase her climax.

“So good to me, so perfect,” she babbles, “I love you, my sweet angel, you feel so—you feel like sin, my god, I love you, I love you, I love you!”

You open your mouth to return the sentiment, but all that comes out are strained whines.

Wanda’s movements start to become less coordinated, and it's not a moment too soon, as you feel a second orgasm cresting within you.

“With me this time,” she instructs, clenching her jaw and grunting, sending a shiver down your spine.

She grinds down harder, your hips tilt higher. Your moans are harmonious as you both come, Wanda now lazily moving until she slows to a stop.

The air is filled with the sounds of your heaving breaths. It feels like lightning is crackling across your flesh, a bone-deep satisfaction settling in you. Wanda gently lifts off of you and carefully lays your leg down on the bed before gracefully falling beside you with a gusty sigh. You press your thighs together, twitching at the pressure and feeling more heat bloom in your cheeks at the messy slide between them.

“I love you too,” you finally manage to murmur, voice cracking.

Wanda hums, shakily propping herself up on her elbow to peer down at you with a happy, smug grin.

“I’ll bet the entire crew heard you,” she teases, laughing when you halfheartedly swat at her in reprimand. “One of these days I’ll convince you to let me have you on the deck, so that not only the crew, but all of the heavens can hear how beautiful you sound when I take you apart.”

You hide your face in her neck, allowing her to wrap you in her embrace as she laughs again at your bashfulness. Silently, you're already planning to let her do just that, but only after your special present is ready.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #pirate king wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader

501 notes · View notes

itostea · 5 months

Text

better than me?

Gojo comes home to find you fangirling over a book character named Aaron Warner

warnings: uni! au, reader is called pretty girl, fluff, idiots in love, idk what this even is

Unread messages. One Five missed calls. No good morning or good night texts.

As of late, Satoru thinks you’ve been distant towards him–ghosting him while he was suffering on a trip his parents forced him to go to. It gets to the point where he thinks he did something to upset you and before he can drive himself mad with far-fetched possibilities, he thinks he should check up on you.

“Honey I’m back!” He bellows out, discarding his shoes to the side of his apartment that you practically live in now. His brows furrow at the lack of response, a bit disappointed at the fact that you could’ve been out.

It’s only when he catches a whiff of your shampoo and perfume that he allows himself to grin. His place was already overtaken by your presence: the scent of vanilla, the sweaters you leave neatly folded on the couch whenever it got too hot, the extra toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed you.

He rushes to the living room, his entrance dramatic as his words. “There you are! Why weren’t you there to greet me at the door? Do you not love me anymore?”

“Oh ‘Toru,” You mumbled absentmindedly and it only took him a while to catch sight of the book in your hands–considering the fact his eyes landed on your (his) hoodie you wore. “You’re back. How was your trip?”

He frowns, his lips parting to release a sigh. “That’s it?”

His heart does something funny when you finally look up at him, tilting your head in genuine confusion. “Hm?”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Wait one sec let me finish this chapter first, Satoru.”

It’s ‘Toru, 'he wants to say but settles on walking to where you sit, his eyes landing on the stack of books on the table–most of which seem to be of the romance genre. There’s a colorful display of sticky tabs decorating the pages of the book and a pen you keep close to you. He leans down to squat, his fingers playing with the book tabs–his mind wandering to the time you mentioned reading to him. “I thought you were reading literature. Like Shakespeare or I don’t know! Not sappy books about love.”

“Sappy books about love is literature. And who reads Shakespeare for fun?”

“Like I would know,” he mutters, standing up to walk behind the couch where he can get a peek of the pages–an offended laugh escaping his lips the moment he sees what scene you were reading so seriously. He easily steals the book out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “So Aaron Warner huh?”

“I was reading that!”

“Baby I can’t believe you were ignoring my messages for this,” he clicks his tongue. “This is worse than catching you make out with another man.”

“Okay that’s a bit of a stretch and besides, you go on trips all the time. Also, who would I even make out with?”

“Aaron Warner!”

You roll your eyes. “Satoru, he’s literally words on paper.”

He narrows his eyes at you and for a moment, you think he’s going to stop. Yet, he continues to observe the stack of books on the table all over again. “So that’s what my money goes towards? Books about other men–”

“Hey! I bought these books with my own money!”

“Oh,” he huffs, suddenly looking insulted. “So you don’t spend my money?”

Your lips release an annoyed groan and you roll your eyes for the nth time–wondering how his mood was all over the place. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Why do you need to read about Aaron Warner when you have me?” He says, climbing over the couch to sit next to you. You don’t object when he easily props you on his lap and discards the book to the side–his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Your heart clenches at the feeling of his hands gripping your hips as if it were second nature to him–how he looked at you like he had the world on his lap.

You clear your throat, not able to resist the urge to tease him. “You know. I wish I had a strong, handsome man holding me right now.”

“What? Like Aaron Warner?”

“That’d be great actually–” Your words die on your lips as he begins his assault of kisses on your face–peppering them along your jaw and neck. Gojo can’t help but smile against your neck at the sound of your surprised laughter, his head coming up so he can flash you a boyish grin.

“Still think he’s better than me sweetheart?”

“You’re jealous of literal words on paper!” You try to retort, your lips a bit swollen and your hair fairly all over the place. He can’t help but press another wet kiss to your cheek, laughing at your sound of disgust.

“So what if I’m jealous? My girl’s not paying attention to me squealing over–”

“I was not squealing–!”

“--Squealing over a book character,” he finishes, taking his hands off your hips to cross them.

You frown, heaving a sigh at the sight of him–a bit affected by the loss of warmth his hands provided. You open your arms, looking at him expectedly. “Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your messages or calls while you were on your trip, in your billion dollar vacation house by the way.”

He only huffs at your sarcasm but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch in amusement. “And?”

“And,” you roll your eyes again. “I’m sorry I said Aaron Warner was better than you. So you can please just hold me again?”

Your boyfriend watches you carefully, pretending to sulk at the sight of your teasing smile. You’re cold to the touch–your hands and feet always contrasting the warmth of his own. You still smell like yourself but he likes how he can catch a whiff of the body wash he uses on you. I miss you, is what his hug says.

His arms easily flip you on your back as he presses his weight over you, his grin wide and lovesick. “You know what? I think I might read the book myself to see what’s so special about this Aaron guy.”

You laugh. “Are you being for real?”

“For real, real, pretty girl.”

Bonus:

It’s been a week since Satoru’s returned from his trip and you’re starting to think he likes the books a bit too much. And you’re still convinced he’s not over your petty argument about Aaron Warner–seeing as he rushes to you on a peaceful evening.

“You wanna know something sweetheart?”

“What is it now ‘Toru,” you groan, having just woken up from your nap.

“Aaron Warner’s only 5’9.”

“What about it?”

“I’m 6’3.”

“...”

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“Add that onto the list “Why Toru is better than Aaron Warner.”

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #fluff

682 notes · View notes

luvvyouforever · 4 months

Text

hc: acotar boys + s/o with illyrian wings

↳ including rhysand, cassian, azriel, lucien, and tamlin.

↳ some mentions of nsfw content but majority sfw, does not go into detail.

a/n: i have not read the entirety of the series nor have i wrote for acotar before. but this was stuck in my mind and i just had to see it through. enjoy, dears ❀

rhysand:

-adores taking leisurely flights with you across the night court lands, velaris, you name it and you're going. on days where you both need to get away and find some peace, you would fly away to some peak of a mountain or to a wide open field of flowers. smiles at you the whole time you glide easily next to him.

-definitely compares wing spans all the time. "no, i swear mine are bigger! look!" as he's straining and stretching the tips of them out to elongate his wingspan. you laugh and play along because you know that yours are without a doubt bigger but you'll let him win this time.

-his already large bed expands when you sleep in it together, ensuring that your wings rest on the sheets comfortably. he knows how annoying it is to tuck them in tightly or let them droop off the ends.

-if you've had a bad day, he'll ask for your permission before massaging the spots of skin surrounding your wings before gently running his hands along them, sending shivers down your spine. sometimes this will lead to more as his apt hands cause you to whimper but if it has been a particularly rough day, he is content to give you physical comfort and nothing more.

-feels incredibly proud to have you. while he hates entering the court of nightmares and putting on his persona, he secretly loves walking in to the city with you as his partner, wings fiercely on display.

-and just for some small self-indulgence, i think rhys loves wing play. when the two of you are close in bed, passionate and sweaty, he loves running his hands along your wings and he flares his out so you can do the same to him. he just can't help groaning at your reaction. enough said (i am so perfectly normal about this)

cassian:

-races with you in the air. some days he is just bounding with energy and adrenaline and nothing helps him more than leaping off of the balcony of your townhouse and soaring high in the air, dodging one another, doing tricks, etc. while rhys loves peaceful flights with you, cassian is the exact opposite.

-if you ever feel insecure about your wings, he'll encourage you to be confident about them and let them out. he may notice that a party, you get insecure about taking up so much space and you try to tuck your wings in as close as possible, placing yourself in corners. he'll come to your side, spread his wings out and tap your back to tell you to do the same. "don't feel bad about them, sweets. you look glorious."

-your sleep habits are definitely...interesting. two people in one bed with enormous wings sprouting from the backs? yeah, it's a little hard to maneuver. but you manage and usually, in the morning, you end up sprawled on the bed, limbs tangled, hair in faces, pillows off the bed, but rested and comfortable nonetheless.

-cassian loves being a tease and throughout the day, anytime he sees you, he'll sneak on you and run a finger down the most sensitive part of your wings, causing reactions that make those around you just slightly uncomfortable. he laughs and giggles and you don't stay mad at him for long.

-he would find it really attractive if your wings were bigger than his or if you could take him down in a fight. he's spent his life being a fearsome warrior, stronger than everyone, and if his partner can spread their wings and tackle him to the ground, he'll be so excited.

-you know that scene in good omens where aziraphale covers crowley's head with his wing? yeah, cassian does that. if you're walking anywhere and it starts raining, snowing, etc. he will gladly place his wing over top of your head to keep you from getting wet. you appreciate it more than anything.

azriel:

-i like to headcanon azriel as being a little fancy and bougie. he definitely has piles of oils, lotions, and skin care products for his wings that he will share with you. he likes keeping them shiny, moisturized, and clean. more often than not, he'll have you sit down in the bathroom while he does a mini skincare routine for your wings alone. you love it and look forward to it every night.

-azriel's wings are canonically the largest of the bat boys and i think he feels a secret sense of pride about this. no matter how good of a warrior cassian is or how good of a leader rhysand is, he holds that over them and this reflects in your relationship. he doesn't feel threatened by them, both because he trusts them and because he knows your affinity for his wings.

-oh my god...his shadows dance all over your wings when you're together. they tickle and give you goosebumps along every part of your body. azriel pretends to rein them in but he loves seeing you giggle at the feeling and sometimes sends his shadows out to run along your wings when you need to cheer up.

-if anyone ever hurt your wings or damaged them in any way, he'd see red and nothing else. he knows how much wings matter to an illyrian and if you come home from a battle with your wings bleeding, ripped, or scarred, he'd immediately find them and make them wish they didn't do such a thing to you.

-when crowds and people and senses become too much for either of you, you'll slip off to some secluded place, usually your home, and wrap each other in your wings, enveloping you in darkness and quiet. it's a great remedy for headaches or overstimulation. in general, i think azriel hugs with his wings. his arms will be wrapped tight around your body and his wings will encase you as much as they can.

-some more self indulgence here...i think azriel isn't as fond of his wings being used in the bedroom but as for yours...shew. you know how his shadows like to play with your wings? he revels in your sounds, gasps, and surprise at the feeling of your most sensitive spot being touched so delicately.

lucien:

-lucien has always been fascinated with illyrian wings. i think he'd ask you so many questions about them, about how they feel, how it feels to fly, etc. he'd very politely ask for your permission before grazing them with his hands, taking in the beauty of them.

-he always wanted to fly like the illyrian warriors he was familiar with but he never asked you out of embarrassment. the first time he flew with you was out of pure need as you escaped from some kind of danger together. he couldn't get away fast enough so without thinking, you picked him up and soared into the sky with him. after that moment, he looks for any chance to fly with you.

-lucien is a fast learner when it comes to learning how to care for your wings. he picks up on the spots that ache the most and pays special attention to those after long days. he speaks to cassian and azriel about caring for them, and he takes their advice to heart, buying whatever he needs.

-sometimes, he feels insecure and wonders if you'd prefer to be with someone who can match your skill set and keep up with you better. you shut down those thoughts as soon as they come up and make some joke that illyrians are a cocky breed and that you'd much prefer to be with him. you even offer to train him in some illyrian fighting techniques which he quickly takes you up on.

-if someone stares at your wings while you're at some kind of spring court high society function, he'd shoot them an evil glare which is particularly intimidating. he reassures you that there is no need to hide the beauty of your wings and that he'd deal with anyone who says something bad about them.

-lucien can't help but blush when you casually use your wings to help him throughout the day. if he shivers at a draft blowing through open windows, your wing will find a spot behind him to block the cool air. you will block the bright sun when you're walking together, barely caring about the intense warmth. if you're fighting together, your wing blocks hits and acts as a barrier between him and an enemy. when he questions himself, he thinks about those small moments that show your love and smiles.

tamlin:

-i think that tam can feel a little threatened sometimes by your wings and skills as a warrior. he places a lot of importance in his position as a protector and it takes him some time to get used to having a partner that can defend themselves. once he does, though, you two are practically an unstoppable force.

-he tries to act very nonchalant about your wings out of fear of offending you by staring at them or touching them. the first time you catch him looking at them in the sunlight, you smile and tell him that you'd never be offended by him admiring them. after that, he's constantly raking his eyes along your wingspan, creating poetic lines in his head about how the stars reflect on the silky black skin.

-tam is possessive by nature and if he sees someone complimenting them or, gods forbid, touch them, he couldn't hold back the claws emerging. he knows very well that you will stand your ground but nobody touches his partner like that and he will let them know very quickly.

-he will never really admit it but he loves seeing you in the light, pastel colors of the spring court, especially when they contrast so heavily with the dark wings on your back. he thinks one of his favorite views is you laid out in the rose garden, soaking in the sunshine with your wings laid out entirely on the ground. his love for you swells and he wishes he had a camera to keep the view preserved forever.

-he loves to spoil you with the best wing care you've ever seen. i'm talking expensive oil infused with gold that creates the most beautiful sparkle along the wings. i'm talking handmade soap sourced from velaris that smells divine which he uses while you take a bath together. he thrives when he gets to spoil you like this.

-his first calanmai after you became partners is an entire story in itself. even while ferociously charged with power, he asks for your permission to touch your wings while in the heat of things. his delicate hands are so different from the rest of the way he's taking you and he draws sounds from you that bounce off the cave walls and echo for likely miles.

i hope you enjoy this! i really like writing headcanons so if you have any requests, please let me know! <3

#acotar #acotar series #acotar x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #tamlin #tamlin x reader #acotar headcanon #headcanon #wings #fluff

689 notes · View notes

dottedsilktie · 16 days

Text

Love conundrum

A peek into a typical morning with Toji reveals domesticity is a good look on him.

CW : swearing, tooth-rotting fluff

There is something so endearing about having a man like Toji become all soft and sentimental. If you didn't know better, you'd almost call him mushy to his face.

You bite your tongue though, just to watch him for a little longer as he's hunched over the oak coffee table, deep in thought.

He holds yesterday's paper in one hand, mumbling the clues for the missing words repeatedly, glowering at the mostly filled out puzzle like it'll solve itself. It's become a habit of yours. Filling out the crossword and leaving a couple of words for him, pretending to require his help just so you can watch him fiddle with the day-old newspaper, too engrossed to even notice you.

Toji throws the paper on the table, reaching for his cup of coffee and thinking out loud "The fuck does any of this mean ? 'Six footer', for God's sake, these people are insane".

He sounds positively mad but he doesn't relent, taking the pencil he'd tucked behind his ear and grabbing the paper again. He's a man on a mission : solving your crosswords is his top priority until further notice.

The whole ordeal is sickeningly sweet but the highlight is when he feigns nonchalance as he hands the paper to you, a smug smirk on his face that melts into a sheepish smile when you thank him with a kiss to his cheek and a heartfelt 'thank you, dearest'.

So Toji perseveres, deft fingers drumming against his thigh and brows furrowed, until he feverishly scribbles the last few answers and jumps up from the couch, triumphant and entirely too happy with his performance. The face of a man who has yet again bested the evil, convoluted crossword clues you tell yourself as you make your way to the living room, stretching your arms over your head and pretending that you had not been watching his debacle for the last couple of minutes.

As you approach him, he's still rambling about a "Six footer my ass, just say an ant like any normal person would, I've had it with these fuckers". It makes you snort, and the sound of your effervescent laughter makes him stop his rambling. He turns to face you, schooling his face back in an expression of calmness as he bends down to kiss you, one arm around your waist, the other reaching for the paper.

Like always, you beam at him when he shows it to you, whispering a "thank you" against his throat. He frowns down at you and asks in a gruff voice, "That's it ?".

"Were you expecting something else ?", you ask innocently. The mountain of a man holding you actually pouts, lips pursed and brows knitted together. Mushy doesn't even begin to describe what he's become.

You reckon he's earned his praise, so you cave in and raise to your tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips, mouthing a "thank you, honey" just to see the disappointment twisting his handsome features melt into a soft, content little smile.

Toji thinks he can bear with the pedantic pieces of shit putting together the crosswords for a little longer if it means getting another morning like this with you.

Repost

#jjk drabbles #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #toji x y/n #toji zenin

326 notes · View notes

luffysscraps · 7 months

Text

Throat choke;🔞;Drabble;Ft; Monkey D. Luffy

Cw;NSFW;Fem reader;Spit kink;Choking;Gross Luffy;Sloppy sex

“Mo~More~! D-deeper~ open wider~!” Luffy requested so much from you when he knew you had your throat filled with his cock. Your head hung over the bedside while his hips were leveled with your head. His hips would snap and thrust into your mouth at a very quick pace, choking you every time his length reached the back of your throat. His balls would slap against your face with every thrust, giving your skin a colored mark in the shape of his testicles and whiff of his musk.

Tears flowed down your face from you gagging on his cock. His hands gripped the sides of your face to hold you steady like you were nothing but his toy. “S-soo~ good~! Aha~ ahh~!” God He’s so loud, if the bed rocking didn’t give it away his moans and groans sure will. You felt his drool fly from out of his mouth and onto your breasts coating it in his slime. From the side of your face all the way to your stomach was covered in hickies and love bites. The male had devoured you earlier and now it was your turn to be his little toy.

You felt him in your skull, he was fucking your brains out with every single thrust. He would go in fast spurts, fucking you into oblivion before he stops, holds your head firmly on his balls while his whole dick is inside of your mouth. He stopped briefly to pant and catch his breath, unintentionally choking you with his dick. The skin of his balls sticking to your nostrils, not allowing you to breath and suffocating you silently. Your eye’s sclera turn red from the lack of oxygen, your eyes roll to the back of your head as you tug on his thigh, desperately trying to get his attention so you can breath again.

“Whoops, sorry-“ Is all he says as he pulls his length out of your mouth. You cough and gag, tears streaming down your face and you feel a bit light headed. It was an honest mistake! You should really tell him when you can’t breath!

Anyways, he’s back on it in seconds. Recovering his stamina faster then you can your need to breath. Right after apologizing for choking you, he’s right back at it. Shoving his dick down your throat, his dick stretching the skin around your throat causing a bulge to show in your throat. You whine and moan sending vibrations up his cock that only seem to motivate him more in chasing his orgasm. “Sooo~ Good~ Hahaha~! Y/N~! Your mouth is so tight! Gonna empty my balls down your throat~!” Luffy cries out, he’s rambling almost like a mad man as he fucks your throat. Spitting a bit when he speaks, causing it to splash on your face and chest.

Your eyes roll back as his speed somehow increases, you didn’t think he could get any faster but he does. His size hits the back of your throat with strength and speed, so hard and so rapidly your throat would be sore in the morning. Your mouth making naughty sounds from the gargling and gagging on his dick. His moans and skin slapping mixing with the noises causing the room to sound like nothing less then a porn shoot.

Luffy throws his head back and slams his length down your throat one last time. “Ugh-UGHA~! C-Cumming~!” He speaks babbles as his loads shoots to the back of your throat, only stopped from going down it by the latex condom around his length. He squirms and jolts as his seed keeps flowing, his dick twitching and throbbing with every shot, shooting his sticky cum down your throat. You feel the condom filling inside of your throat, a bag of cum now lodged in your gullet.

Once he was finished, he pulled out panting, the weight of his cum causing the condom to shimmy off of him a bit. The ball of cum still stuck in your throat as he’s panting besides you. “Hah…ha…” He pants out above you, sweat grazing his abs as he can only think about the blissful Ecstasy he had just moments ago. Your face turns red as you gag and inhale on the ball of cum stuck in your throat.

You try to force it out with a couple of hard blows but you were too weak and tired from being fucked out. It’s only when Luffy feels your weak fingers tapping on his thighs and your hics and coughs does he notice the condom’s end is still in your throat. He’s about to pull it out to help you but he only watches as finally one of your gags kicked the latex bag out of your throat. The cum bag covered in your spit sat and rolled down your face as you were panting trying to recover your breath.

He stared at you with wide eyes. His dick instantly hard again from the gross and sexy sight of you. His face filled with red, he knows it’s a long shot because you look half conscious at this point but…

“One more.” He begs like he did the last time and before you know it your throat is clogged with his cock once again.

825 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 3 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

362 notes · View notes

rumisgf · 4 months

Text

— ATTRACTIVE THINGS HE SAYS/DOES

includes: katsuki bakugou, denki kaminari, shoto todoroki

warnings: college!au, black reader obv, suggestive, she/her pronouns used once

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

you can try to get pouty or sassy with him if you want to, but it is not a game you will win. one thing he likes is checking yo ass (cs he knows you secretly get a kick out of it).

“fix that attitude ‘fore i fix it for you.”

and he does not let you smart mouth him at all. he’s the sassy one, not you babes.

“what’chu say?”

you start trynna cuss at him or give him more attitude? he’ll deadass look to the left, to the right, behind him, then look back at you and be like “oh, you talkin’ to me?”

“ay, watch yo mouth.”

possessive in not a toxic way but still obvious

he cares a lot about your grades and he’ll memorize your classes so if you decide to skip a day or two, he’s texting you making sure you at least did your work

and like y’all are still in highschool, he’ll deadass take your phone if you need to catch up and keep it in his pocket

“uh uh, yer not gettin’ this back until you finish. we clear, baby?”

unconsciously flexes his jaw when he stretches

digs his tongue into his cheek whenever he’s focused and furrows his eyebrows

bakugou manspreading. that’s all.

if he sees someone trying to flirt with you he will deadass laugh in their face

moves you out of the way by grabbing your waist

if he wants you to sit with him he simply pats the spot next to him (or sometimes his lap) and is like “c‘ mere”

if you couldn’t tell, yeah he likes to give orders (☺️)

speaking of orders, knows your food order from every place you like by heart

and is the one who sends your food back if they get your order wrong

“yo, excuse me! yeah send this shit back she didn’t want pickles on her shit.”

he actually talks to older adults very respectfully

as he got older, he matured and his manners towards his professors is definitely one of the things that swept you off your feet

DENKI KAMINARI

he knows damn well when you missed him and loves to be especially affectionate just to have you all shy under his touch and with his words

“hi pretty babyy”

“aww, am i making you nervous?”

“you miss me my princess?”

“you’re real cute, y’know that?”

when you achieve something like learning how to play a game he’s showing you or doing good on an exam he always says things like “see, there you go” “good job, baby ‘m so prouda you”

he’s very attentive to you, he lets you be clingy whenever you want

taps his pencil gently with his fingers or plays with his rings whenever he’s trying to focus hard on something

then when he’s confused he runs his fingers through his hair with furrowed eyebrows and his lips pouted up

always responds with “yes, baby?” whenever you say his name to get his attention

and to make sure he’s not neglecting you all the time when he sits down to play video games he has you either cuddled up in his lap, sitting between his legs on the floor, or laying your head on his lap depending on how he’s sitting

no matter who he’s with always greet you with “hi baby” or “hey babe”, he has absolutely no shame showing affection to you

definitely participate in all those tiktok slideshows where people show off they girlfriends

pulls you into his lap by the waist

<< his morning voice 33

getting to go to the gym with him or at least see him after he goes to the gym is a true blessing bc his messy hair immediately makes him 10x hotter

always hugs you tightly and wraps both arms around your body

and loves hugging you from behind

hypes up every post you make and spams your comments

SHOUTO TODOROKI

when he gets mad it makes you feel all hot, especially because it’s rarely directed at you

his voice. that’s all.

he’s so polite and treats you like the highest human being on earth (as he should)

“are you alright, my love?”

“i’m so sorry my angel, let me make it up to you please.”

“here, i’ll carry that for you love.”

“goodnight my princess, i’ll be dreaming about you.”

he hugs you with his whole body, making sure he can feel every inch of your skin pressed up on his.

and he makes you do it to, pulling you in by your waist flush against his stomach.

makes sure to hold your hand every time he’s walking you somewhere because your safety is a priority to him

always ask before he does things, he hates feeling like he’s making you uncomfortable. “can i kiss you?” “is this okay? “you sure you want to, lovely?”

contrary, to popular belief he’s way too good at eye contact

and then gets confused when you become all flustered even though he’s staring into your eyes as you speak

“what’s wrong? is there something on my face?”

but eventually you admit how nervous it makes you, and he takes note

so now, he especially looks you in your eyes during conversation

“hmm? go ahead sweetheart i’m listenin’.”

whenever he’s studying for an upcoming exam, he leans back more in his seat and when he goes to stretch, his shirt lifts up and reveals his lower stomach

he comes well dressed no matter how bad of a day he’s having or what time he woke up

whenever he walks in a room, trust he got that shit on (because he’s way too rich to be dressed like a fool)

his dorm is always clean: bed’s always made, has a specific shelf for school supplies, etc

him cursing. that's all.

whenever you fall asleep on his chest he holds you tight under his free arm with his hand over your head, just because he wants so bad to protect you

in general tends to be protective

keeps a hand on your waist at events, walks next to the road on the sidewalk and will make sure you dont, puts his hand in front of you if the car stops too hard, all that

#denki headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x black reader #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari x black reader #denki x black reader #bakugou katsuki x black reader

554 notes · View notes

chocsra · 2 months

Text

✧ more personal chuuya hcs !!

✧ appearence hcs:

has a small small face

long, naturally curled, luscious eyelashes

soft and silky ass hair

very smooth, soft looking ivory skin

repping mestiso community, described as beautiful and unique

he actually glows in like any good lighting, golden hour does him best

his beauty is like majestic but gets called pretty a lot

bones did him soo wrong, he has toned sleeper build guys trust

naturally low-lided, sleepy eyes

he has really pretty brown eyes

has russet hair, NOT a ginger, he's more of a reddish brunette

slim, large hands that are really attractive

SNATCHED waist

he has a few pretty freckles

old money aesthetic

90s hot.

my personal hc is that his appearence comes from some sort of european descent, be it french or spanish blood that made his features so unique

looks so unreal that he looks otherworldly or like a doll; alien beauty

his skin reminds you of porcelain; this man's skin is mad flawless

ties his hair up at home into either a manbun or ponytail

has an 8+ step skincare routine..

has a super raspy voice in the morning/night

always takes his gloves off in the cuntiest manner - either biting the fingertips off one by one or that one manga panel where he bites the wrist part

whines when he stretches and it always catches u off guard

✧ crack/general hcs:

dances like hyunjin from skz (knows how to and practices his moonwalk)

bro is a WHEEZER when he genuinely laughs, he also feels the need to say ur not funny to keep ur ego in check when he is in fact laughing his ass off

when yall are laughing ur ass off (drunk or not) just know yall will be collasping on the floor feeling the six pack coming in

rip chuuya - you would've loved making electric guitar thirst traps on tiktok

he LOVES rollarcoasters or anything with a kick to it tbh (fast car or motorcycle rides) bc he loves gravity dzuh, but yknow what he CANT take??

them seats in the movie theatre where they move according to the movie, he gets way too invested in movies and the seats moving like crazy fries his brain (IM SORRY IF U DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKING AB, THEYRE CALLED DBOX)

he ofc has a weakness for dogs but if he ever tries to feed a stray cat and it runs away or hisses he gets a little sassy and hisses back

sleeps like a dying victorian child. you walked onto him sleeping once and contemplated on calling a priest

one of those people who have copies of the same clothing item, or they're like barely any different. you see his hat rack and he gets offended bc "all his hats are completely different"

he scoffs a lot

starts chasing you if you ever MENTION the times when he was 15 (has made cringy youtube diss tracks with dazai, lost the login, now that videos up forever..)

if you're short like him and tell a story complaining about how ppl call u short, he gets personally offended FOR you

likes reading books but they vary from sophisticated novels to books like "HOW TO STAND ON BUSINESS?!?!"

his spice tolerance is wild, even if he can't actually take it he still will to prove a point

since his voice is pretty guttural whenever he has a voice crack while speaking you both pause and look at each other in silence before you laugh and he just goes "shut up.. shut up.. 😒"

he likes to mock ppl (lovingly) w higher voices like higuchi (especially when shes talking ab aku) bc it's older brother vibes and their reactions are always priceless

✧ chocsra™

265 notes · View notes

ariesbilly · 3 months

Text

Has anyone done a fic where it’s like modern au or the 2000s, something where steve wasn’t a teenager in 80s or at least really young

So anyway he’s driving along the road one night and sees a kid about his age walking along, looks kind of dated with his curly mullet and leather jacket and unbuttoned shirt but maybe he just came back from a costume party or something. And Steve, being the good guy he is, pulls up to the guy and asks if he wants a ride home, is maybe looking for something more when he gets a look at the guys face and realizes what a knockout he is.

And the guy is charming too, smirking at him and accepting the ride, tho there’s something a little sad in his eyes, a little haunted.

Steve asks questions like his name (billy hargrove) and “haven’t seen you around here before, you from here?” (No, California)

He doesn’t really offer up much else and he doesn’t ask Steve about himself, which…is fine, Steve guesses.

But when he asks billy where he should drop him off billy gets a little panicked look in his eye. Repeats that he can’t go home, his dad’s gonna be so mad, he can’t go home.

And Steve’s like okay….quarry then? Because that’s his spot when he doesn’t want to go home, wants to avoid his parents.

Billy agrees and Steve drives them to the water. Parks the car. Steve tries to strike up conversation but Billy’s reluctant to say anything. When Steve, going out on a limb, suggests a late night swim, Billy agrees.

So they strip off their clothes. Steve runs to the water, dives in. Waits for billy to come but…he never does. And Steve can’t see him on the shore, the only light coming from the beemers headlights. He calls out for him, but nothing. Steve’s shoulders sag, he swims back to shore, assumes he’s been had, billys left to go…wherever. Steve sulks and goes home

It’s not until the next morning he gets in his car and notices a leather jacket in his backseat. Which…weird. But he’s kinda hopeful. He can use this to see billy again. He’s just…gotta find him

Problem is when he asks around, no one’s heard of a billy hargrove. It’s not until someone mentions knowing a Neil Hargrove that Steve finally has a lead. So he tracks him down to a house on a cherry lane. Knocks on the door. An angry old man answers, demanding to know what Steve wants

Timidly, Steve asks if a billy lives there? Or if the man knows anyone named Billy Hargrove?

And the man goes cold. Stares Steve down in a way that has him wanting to run for the hills.

The man says “Billy was my son. And he died years ago.”

And that…can’t be right. Steve just saw him last night so… he has his jacket for christs sake

But before he can say anything else the door is slammed in his face.

Later that day Steve’s hanging out with his best friend Robin. Tells her about the weird interaction he had today. And Robin loves a good mystery so she drags Steve to the library or pulls up her laptop and searches the obituaries for a billy hargrove and sure enough…July 4, 1985 a billy hargrove died in a car crash along the same stretch of road Steve found him on the previous night. And right there in black and white is the face of the boy Steve had in his passenger seat

Steve doesn’t know what the hell to think

#local cryptid billy my beloved #harringrove

240 notes · View notes

runningupthatvecna · 6 months

Text

this is for all the touch deprived plus size girlies that are very much (still) in love with eddie munson

18+ minors dni

-----

In fact, Eddie loves you.

He loves your plush hips. The valleys and hills of you, soft expanses of extensive skin for him (and him only) to touch.

He loves your cheeks. Perfect for nuzzling his nose into until his lips make contact with your jaw, inhaling your very scent until his lungs burn.

He loves the roundness of your boobs, especially when your hardened nipples perk up, begging for his touch. The squish.

He loves the roundness of your belly, how soft it always presents itself beneath his head and tickling curls of his, a perfect pillow whenever you let him rest on you. The way it separates into parts, valleys between them, a welcome dip for his fingers.

He loves your soft hair and those big arms that offer the best, sincerest, warmest, hugs Eddie has ever known. They are his absolute favourite.

He loves your thighs, my god does he love them, when they jiggle with every step you take, wherever you go, a constant reminder how good they feel around his head. How good they feel beneath his eager fingertips when he runs them up and down and up again.

He loves how wet you always get between them, how the juices are already dripping from your outer lips, telling him that if there's a patch on your panties, a dead giveaway of the effect his very actions have on you. Through the thickness, it just spreads so easily. He loves placing both his thumbs on each of your lips, he loves how he has to spread them apart, he even loves that he has to spread them apart for him to be able to even see you. See your love for him dripping out of you, see all of you, spread open and vulnerable for him. It makes his heart nearly combust in his ribcage.

And god, does he love devouring you whole, slurping it all into his mouth, sucking and licking and sucking some more, knowing how to drive you mad, your soft whimpers and pretty noises meant for his ears only. He loves the way he can bury the entire lower half of his face in your heat, all while your moans and sweet little whimpers are the only thing he wants to hear. Along with the squelch of his fingers of course, knuckles deep inside your cunt.

What he loves most though is when you stare back into his own darkened eyes half-lidded when he stretches you open, the way your sopping heat embraces his cock so easily, how warm you feel, how tight you are, how you're so goddamn fucking needy for him. The noises you make and the way tears form in your eyes because his dick is so bomb and no one has ever been willingly touching you this way.

He loves how incredibly needed you make him feel, how adamantly you're prioritizing him over other people in your life. No one's ever done that for him. Not in this way. Never.

It's a welcome symbiosis.

Eddie loves caressing every inch of you, making so damn sure you know, are aware of, and feel the way you're making him feel. Working so damn hard you'll eventually see just how fucking hot you are to him. He wants to make you forget about all the days and weeks and months and years of being on your own. Make you forget about the shitty things you've been told about yourself. Even if it means he has to pound you silly every night and every morning after and every minute inbetween. Even if it means he has to write you love notes and letters every goddamn day. Cause he would do that. For you.

#eddie munson x reader #nora writes #eddie munson x fem!reader #for my fellow plus size girlies #<3 #eddie munson smut #i have no idea what this is and i apologize already if it's bad #look i'm sorry okay #it just comes from a place of self-indulgence #ok bye

419 notes · View notes

2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

(part 4 of November Paramedic; part 3 is here and the AO3 version is here.)

Eddie wakes on the following Saturday with an itch beneath his skin. It's been there for days now. Warm and at times aching; an inflammation.

He hasn't seen Steve again. He's been thinking of him and talking about him (or rather listened to Gareth talk about him – he's not convinced Gareth doesn't want to fuck him). But he hasn't talked to him. He could rectify that by asking Max for his number, but that'd mean facing her little freckled self-satisfaction. He's not that desperate (yet).

The bedroom is blue with mid-morning light. Outside the window, some poor bastards drive to their weekend shifts. Technically, Eddie is one of them, but he doesn't start until the afternoon, so he's taking his time yawning and stretching out of his sleep-rumpledness. The cover has pooled around his waist and his t-shirt is rucked up; he scratches the exposed skin, the itch deepening as his fingertips ghost the area above his dick.

He slides his hand down and cups himself. The first caress over his boxers punches a sigh out of him.

The calendar is in the porn drawer, but Eddie doesn't need to have it in front of him – he knows every pixel better than the furrows on Uncle Wayne's face (ew, he shouldn't think of Wayne when palming himself, ewewewewew!). Even if he wasn't so familiar with the photo, he'd be okay. After all, he's sat opposite the subject. He's seen him up close and in four dimensions. Watched him lick salt from his fingers and wrap his lips around paper straws.

The itch now burning, he lunges for the near-empty lube bottle on the nightstand and delves his hands into his shorts. Shifting so the cockhead pokes out of the waistline, he starts stroking in earnest.

He likes to go slower, stop and start and prolong it, but this time it's like a fucking race. He grips the shaft, twists, squeezes the head, pulls, while his other hand rubs his balls. Sweat beads on Eddie's face as his breathing speeds up. He needs to calm down or he'll finish before he's even started.

It's hard, though, especially as the image of Steve is solidifying at the foot of the bed. Kneeling, legs spread, Eddie's thighs resting on top of his. He's wearing the paramedic uniform, zipper down and shirt open, sliding off his shoulders. And he's smiling like that, a hungry glint in his eyes.

Fuck, what would Steve be like in bed? Would he take charge or be passive? Would he be flexible? Does he like giving oral? A guy who looks like that must be getting laid constantly; he has to be good with his mouth. And his hands, they're big, surely big enough to envelop Eddie's around his cock. Eddie prods at his taint, imagining his fingers were longer and thicker as the flats of his knuckles rub through to the muscle. The pressure is building, the tingling lighting up in his chest and legs.

Would Steve let Eddie restrain him? Tie him to the headboard, hook his knees over Eddie's shoulders, and fold him in half? Or would he prefer to hold Eddie down… push him into the mattress, palm splayed between his shoulder blades, and open him until he begged to be fucked. Then he'd spread Eddie's thighs, split him in half on that cock and pound until he screamed-

Eddie screams, hips lifting off the bed. Sizzling waves of pleasure roll over him, leaving him spasming. It came faster than preferred, but fuck it, he's too spent to be mad about it. He should have expected it anyway – November-paramedic always does this to him.

November-paramedic. Steve. Steve could do it to him, too. 'If he was straight, Max would've said so', right? The only thing to worry about then is if Eddie is his type.

(Catching himself in the bathroom mirror, blotchy and shaggy and with spunk on his shirt, he can't see himself being anyone's type.)

Someone knocks on his front door as he prepares to step into the shower. He's not expecting anyone, so he ignores it, stripping and tossing his dirty clothes in the hamper while waiting for the water to get warm.

The knocker doesn't relent. They get louder. Frantic. Shit, maybe it's someone in trouble?

When they bang hard enough to break through the door, he turns the water off and rushes out. Stopping only to grab his sweatpants from the couch, tugging them on as he walks, he reaches the door and yanks it open and

stops dead in his tracks.

There's no emergency. No serial killer running amok and no fire, unless one counts Max's flame orange hair. It's in twin braids today, and she's wearing loose gym shorts and a tank top. She has a tote bag on her shoulder and a smile on her face, but nary a sign of distress.

He slumps against the doorjamb, glaring at her. "What."

"Do you play basketball?" she asks.

"Does it look like I play basketball?"

He gestures to his lanky, shirtless frame. She gives him an unimpressed once-over. Exactly. He's about to ask if she's filled her quota for inane questions this fine morning when she looks at him with unscrupulous eyes.

"Steve and Lucas like to play at the park. I'm not as good as them, but it's pretty fun so I join in. They're competitive and go really hard. Gets sweaty. And they always wear these tiny basketball shorts-"

"Okay, so?" he says, interrupting before the picture gets too detailed and the blush reaches farther down his chest. He crosses his arms even though he knows it won't hide anything.

Max rolls not just her eyes, but her entire head. "I'm throwing you a bone here, dumbass! Do you want to join or not?"

"Why would I want to join?"

Her reply is a mere look, but the 'are you fucking kidding me' is louder than her voice could ever be. His hands, needing something to do, begin rubbing his upper arms.

"What do you get out of this?" he asks. Because he can't think of anything. Is it simply out of the goodness of her heart?

"Meddling in your love life is the closest I'll ever get to becoming God." (Ah. Egomania. Of course.) "So?"

Eddie sighs. On the one hand, there's Steve, panting and sweating while wearing short shorts. On the other hand…

Yeah, no, there's no discussion here.

"Yeah, I'm in."

"Great. We have," she looks at her phone, "fifteen minutes until they're here."

"Fifteen minutes? Max, I haven't showered yet!"

Seventeen minutes, one change of clothes, four spritzes of body spray, and half a can of dry shampoo later, they're sliding into the backseat of Steve’s ludicrously expensive car. Eddie had been skeptical about the dry shampoo – he didn't use fancy products for his hair, didn't need them. Plain regular shampoo and conditioner were good enough, thank you very much. He'd rather it be stringy with natural grease than artificially stiffened. But Max swore by it; after covering his scalp with the dandruffesque stuff and combing it out, he has to admit it looks and feels fine. The breezy smell isn't terrible, either. He might ask her where she bought it.

"Hey, guys," Steve says, already putting the car in gear. "S'great that you wanted to join, Eddie!"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie, who was going to apologize for springing his appearance on them, says. But neither Steve nor Lucas seem surprised he's there? He shoots Max a look. She ignores him as she's rapidly texting. "This isn't really my thing, but it'll be fun?"

"We won't go all out," Lucas says. "Max doesn't play either, so we know how to take it easy."

"Mmm, yeah, they're both okay teachers…" Max says, distracted, like she's barely paying attention to the conversation. "Lucas usually helps me, so you and Steve can have each other."

"I'll be here if you need me," Steve says, flashing a front cover-worthy smile in the rear-view mirror.

Eddie just laughs weakly, already out of breath. They've hit traffic now, and masked by the thrum of tires and Steppenwolf playing on the radio, he leans over to Max's side to whisper:

"Stay out. Of my. Love life."

She raises a brow. "You mean the love life that wouldn't exist without me?"

"It would exist."

"No, it wouldn't."

"It would."

"No, you're hopeless. Have you even been on a date before?"

"Yes, I have!"

"Did Gareth ask the guy out for you?"

"No!"

Sure, there had been this one time at a party when Gareth drunkenly announced to a guy that Eddie had been checking him out the entire evening. But that's the closest either of them has ever come to asking someone out for the other. And it doesn't count anyway because it didn't lead to a date, just a mediocre makeout session. The other guy's personality turned out to be the equivalent of a toolbox full of dicks, and he wasn't hot enough to make up for it. However unbelievable it may seem, Eddie does have standards.

Max sighs, powering down her phone and slipping it into her tote. "If I asked you in advance, you'd have the time to get cold feet and cancel."

"I wouldn't've done that."

"I wasn't risking it." Her lips curl with distaste. "Steve always gets so pouty and puppy-eyed when he's disappointed. It's gross."

"Me canceling wouldn't disappoint him!"

She gives him a long look. Pitying, like she thinks he's so stupid he can't even realize how stupid he is and is sad on his behalf. "I think I'm better at judging whether or not it would."

The park they stop at is nice and big but otherwise nondescript. A dozen or so other visitors are scattered around the area, most of them walking their dogs (or in one case, cat). The adjacent basketball court is empty, however. Unsurprising given the early hour, and also relieving – the fewer people who witness this, the better. Because Eddie really doesn't play basketball. Sports, in general, is incomprehensible to him. How do you do it? Why is it 'fun'? He doesn't get any of it, thus has accepted he'll make a bit of a fool of himself today.

Except he doesn't. Not as much as he thought, at least. Steve and Lucas are both so nice and enthusiastic about it, explaining and demonstrating and explaining again. They're not playing sports, per se; more like playing games that involve basketballs and sometimes hoops. They run, dribble, shoot, steal the ball from each other, try to catch one another, all without keeping score or declaring winners. They just… play. Carefree, like children.

If high school PE had been anything like this, Eddie would've passed on the first try.

It's still exacting. After two hours (hours!) of playing, Eddie is feeling it in his legs and lungs. It's good, though, the sting and the burn. He's slick with sweat and his hair is frizzing out of its tie, but he's accomplished something. When the muscle cramps hit later on, he'll be happy about it for once.

He's still quick to agree when a rosy-cheeked Max suggests they take a break. Sitting on the edge of the court, sharing the water she brought, they watch as Steve and Lucas play for real. And it's, wow. Poetry in motion. Eddie knows nothing about basketball, but he has to assume they're both good. By his analysis, whatever it's worth, Lucas has more natural aptitude but Steve has the experience, at times pulling feints that stump Lucas. This conclusion is vindicated when they at several points stop so Steve can coach Lucas through the maneuvers.

They're both impressive. Mesmerizing. When they first arrived, seeing them step out of the car did a number on Eddie's poor, gay heart. Those shorts are short, and their jerseys display just enough arm and throat to tantalize. And now? When they're getting into it? Giving each other a run for their money, giving their all, until they glisten and their clothes stick to their skin?

No wonder Max likes to join them, the little pervert!

"Do you play basketball now?" Max asks, snapping him out of it.

He squints at her. "You're a voyeur, Mayfield."

"You're the one who's drooling."

"Am not," Eddie says and surreptitiously wipes his chin, just in case.

"Sure." Max pushes to her feet. "Hey, Lucas! You're supposed to help me with my throws."

Steve and Lucas, in a battle for the ball, break it off. Lucas beams at her.

"Yeah! Let's do it!"

Max and Steve switch places, Max grabbing the ball on the way to her spot in front of Lucas, and then Lucas' hands are all over her. On her shoulders, her elbows, her hips, correcting her grip and her stance. She's smiling like a cat with a canary dipped in cream, pressing her back to his chest. He's basically embracing her, and by the time she shoots they've melted together.

Jesus. How can these children be bolder and smoother than Eddie ever has?

"Cute, aren't they?" Steve says between sips from his water bottle.

"Yeah. What's their deal?"

"They used to date. Shit went down and now it's complicated." A bit of water dribbles out the corner of Steve's mouth after an especially sloppy swig. Eddie's stomach is one big butterfly. "I think they belong together. Just need to find each other again first."

And then it happens: Steve offers Eddie the bottle. His breath hitches; he accepts it with a trembling hand. Raises it to his mouth and puts his lips where Steve just put his lips. Hoooooooly shit. There's a metal festival going on inside his ribcage, his pulse like a bass drum in his ears. Beat a little faster and he'll risk cardiac arrest. 'Death by indirect kiss' has a kinda romantic ring to it.

He swallows and asks at a higher frequency than usual, "You known her for long?"

"She was thirteen," Steve says, too busy staring wistfully at the kids to notice Eddie's newfound resemblance to a dog toy.

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

Eddie rolls the bottle between his palms. Maybe he can smuggle it away when Steve isn't looking. Take it home and cherish it forever. Never pour the water out or wash it. Put it on a pedestal and give it a plaque that said 'I have Steve Harrington's spit in me' and be envious whenever he read it.

(Christ, he's a creep.)

"How did you get to know them?" he asks, giving it back. He doesn't trust himself with it.

Steve drinks again, so now they've both gotten a taste of each other. Cool! Third base, or whatever. "I was kind of their babysitter."

"Really?"

"Yeah. No. They were too old for babysitters, it was more like… giving them rides. Being there when they…" Shaking his head, he fully turns to Eddie. His face is dead serious business. "Like, these kids are nerds. Or just troubled. Or both. It was hard sometimes, so they needed someone."

"And that was you?"

"Not always. Remember Nancy and Jonathan? They're Mike and Will's older siblings, respectively. They did much more. But, y’know… Nancy and Jon have ambitions. They're going places. They've been in those places, and now they have new ones!" He smiles, sweet but with a hint of bitterness. "They were busy. So I filled the gaps. Also, not everything was… Like, Nancy is the toughest, strongest person I know. But she's also a bookish, 5'4 girl. She couldn't break up brawls or scare off bullies. Not permanently at least. And Jonathan, he packs a punch when he wants to. You won't think so when you see him, but he does. But he still needs to get into the fight. I don't. I could just show up and people would leave. Because I'm bigger and, uh, my reputation kinda precedes me."

"Really?" Eddie makes a show of looking Steve up and down. He's strong, anyone can see that, but he doesn't look like the type of guy who gets in that kind of trouble. "You got a rep as a fighter?"

He realizes too late how rude he's being. Fortunately, Steve just snorts good-humoredly.

"More like I got a rep as someone you can't win against. If someone said 'Steve Harrington beat us' I could say 'no' and that's it. Even with two black eyes, people would believe me. Jonathan, though? He could have an airtight alibi. Eyewitnesses, security footage, the works! But if he was accused, people would find a way to pin it on him."

As he speaks, Steve's voice gets louder, the words tumbling out. He sounds upset, like he knows what he says is indisputably true, but he's not yet used to knowing it. The fire he spits it out with must surprise him, because his eyes grow a size before he reels himself in. Kicking at the ground, he clears his throat.

"But, uh, it didn't happen often," he says. "S'not like we fought every week. Mostly it was stuff like him dropping them off at the arcade and me picking them up. Or I let the kids use my pool for their birthday parties and their families had me over for the holidays when- if my parents weren't in town. That stuff. Just helping each other out."

He looks at Eddie, his smile tight at the corners, but shrugging like it truly isn't a big deal. Just helping out. Just being kind. Because these people, these kids, mean something to him, so how couldn't he be good to them?

Eddie's head is spinning. He recognizes that 'being a paramedic' and 'caring about people' typically go hand in hand, and he shouldn't be left in a fucking daze over the revelation that Steve is nice to his friends. Yet. The confirmation has turned him into a bubble floating in the wind.

"You wanna go again or get something to eat or…?" Steve asks, popping the moment. Eddie blinks the shimmer off his retinas.

"I haven't eaten yet, so I'm starving."

"You haven't eaten at all?"

"Uh, no? I woke up and, um, I- I mean, and then, Max was there and she kinda sprung this on me fifteen minutes before you arrived?"

Steve stares at him. Eddie stares back. The basketball thumps against the asphalt. Steve's expression screws into annoyance.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand down his face. "I'm so sorry."

"What?"

"You didn't… If you didn't want to come today-"

"No! No, I did, it's been fun!"

"Really? Because they keep doing this. Trying to set me up."

Eddie chokes on his saliva. "S-set up?"

Steve nods, rolling his eyes. "They think I don’t have enough friends my age. Which I do! Not many close friends, but I don't need any! I have Robin." His face gains a pink tint. "Um, but that doesn't mean I don't want to get to know you better. I do."

"Cool," Eddie says. The world is spinning again. "Me too."

"Well." Coughing loudly, Steve waves to catch the kids' attention. "Let's get something to eat."

The remainder of their time together passes in a leisurely blur that Eddie watches from the sidelines. Not as in he doesn't engage with the others, but as in he engages with them on autopilot while his actual consciousness hangs around like an apparition. They get tacos from a food truck and ice cream as dessert, courtesy of Lucas who talks Steve into it. Something about Steve owing his little sister, but since she isn't there he should buy for Lucas instead, or something. Despite his grumbling, Steve doesn't seem too perturbed about paying.

It's a little past one o'clock when Steve drops them off, saying they should do it again before driving off. Max smirks at him as they reach their apartments, saying 'you're welcome' and tossing her braid over her shoulder. Eddie flips her the bird, which she doesn't see since her door is already closing.

The first thing Eddie does after stomping inside is collapse face-first on the couch. The second thing is groan into the cushions as he remembers he still has work this afternoon.

"Dude," Gareth says later that same evening. Half-filled character sheets and messy notebook scraps are spread before him on the kitchen table, where he's finishing the description of his character so Eddie can sketch it. "You went on a date."

Frowning, Eddie stirs the pancake batter harder. It's all mixed, but the stove is from circa 1860 and takes forever to heat up.

"No we didn't," he says. "Max and Lucas were there too."

"Dude, you went on a double date."

"It wasn't a date! I'd notice if it was."

"He said he wanted to get to know you better!"

"As a friend."

Gareth sighs, tapping his pen on the table and leaving ink stains behind. "He's a guy. Guys don't say 'I want to get to know you better' when making friends. That's flirty talk."

"It's… not," Eddie says, unsure. It's not, right?

Gareth plants his chin in his palm, fondly shaking his head. "This guy is into you. I'll make you see it. Just wait."

Eddie doesn't know if he should interpret it as a promise or a threat.

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

Part 5

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll

#steddie fic: november paramedic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #lumax #just like with cars I know nothing about basketball #but this time eddie is equally ignorant so it's ok #gareth wasn't supposed to be in this part at first but I realized it wouldn't be the same without him #so he squeezed in at the end #my writing

2K notes · View notes