#to have to sleep in a fucking sleeping bag while my mattress dries
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I’m literally just so fucking sick of have a dirty room
#it’s just an ongoing issue ever since I had the foster kittens#they basically descimated my room with pee and poop#and since we kept of them he still sorta thinks it’s his litter box#one of them*#and I’m not trying to point fingers but my mom didn’t monitor anything at all when I was on vacation#so basically all three of my cats peed and shat everywhere in my room AGAIN#and I tried to clean it all up#and I’ve changed my sheets and sprayed down my mattress like… four times in two weeks and it’s driving me nuts and triggering me really badl#to have to sleep in a fucking sleeping bag while my mattress dries#and nobody is helping me#and when I focus on doing all my laundry I can’t focus on anything else#I’m just tired#and it’s embarrassing and it’s so so painful#because being in a clean space is like. the only thing that keeps me sane#and I do all my laundry only for everything to still stink#I’m just so …#tired#sorry to rant#caitie rants
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✨Pairing✨: felon!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader
Summary🪄: Surprisingly, you’re Ari’s first stop when he gets out of prison
🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!! Ari (first and foremost because hello☝🏾lol), angst, talks of prison, allusion to violence (male-male), allusion to childhood trauma, a few bad language words, unprotected happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe!)
A/N🎤: Hi! So this is my entry for the Cum Together Extravaganza created by the amazing, talented, wonderful, whore-mone inducing @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 lol, and I hope everyone enjoys☺️! *This idea is loosely based off Nicolas Cage’s character from Con Air (if you know you know✨)
*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was created by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*
Prompt: Pining + Running into each other after a long time apart + Frantic Kisses
His heavy boots stop just a foot or two away from the familiar steps he’d climbed plenty of times before. A mix of emotions swirling through his brain causing a tightness in his chest.
He shouldn’t be here.
Not after he’d all but physically pushed you out the visitation room that day. A common tactic of self sabotage he developed over the years, along with his way of trying to protect you from the eventual hurt he knew he’d put you through.
You were so angelic that day. Your natural glow competing with the sun outside shining through the window against your soft skin seemingly made of gold. Brown eyes full of worry, yet still holding that sparkle Ari had never experienced from anyone before. This wasn’t a place for you to be. A place that would soon tarnish your purity - so white the freshest snow, having fallen directly from the sky above, seemed dirty.
“You’re hurt,” you stated wanting so badly to reach out and try to do something for the blue and purple bruise on his cheek. To clean the dried blood around the stitch in his right eyebrow, but you keep your hands to yourself following the strict “no touching” rule.
He only shrugged. Clearly uncaring of whatever happened, but there was also a dimness to his spirit.
Since your first meeting, you could tell there was something hidden behind the walls he’d built. Sense a complicated past before he felt comfortable enough to tell you some of what he’d gone through. However this was different. Past the point of reverting back to the old Ari that was known as a troubled, aloof hermit, it’s almost as if this was a completely different man.
“I uh wanted to bring you cookies, but the officer said no,” you started again, trying to change the subject since Ari wouldn’t tell you what happened. “Something about possible contraband smuggling? As if I could sneak something in a small cookie. Plus it’s me of all people! Where would I even get-,”
“Don’t come back here,” he finally spoke in that gruff voice. It takes you back at first, lightly chuckling to yourself thinking he was joking. His serious eyes - somewhat dark and with new adjoining bags from his lack of sleep - tell you otherwise quickly causing a furrow to your brows.
“Wha-What do you mean-?”
“You don’t need to be waiting for me. Just…leave.”
“B-But I love you Ari.”
He shakes his head before standing to his feet. “We’re done,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the metal door. Whoever was in charge apparently heard him from the pad shining green to grant him entrance back to the waiting hall where another officer met him to reapply his cuffs and escort him to his cell.
All the while ignoring your cries of his name and how you pleaded for him to talk to you.
But later that night, staring at the discolored white ceiling as he lied in his top bunk on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress, it’s all he could hear. Those same tears that ran down your cheeks now silently running down his.
“Fuck,” he silently curses to himself while his fingers pass through his almond strands as he turns away - now hyper aware of how strange he probably looked to your neighbors just standing in your yard. He should’ve just gone to the halfway house he’d been recommended from the transfer counselor.
Try to stay far from you and this part of town for that matter.
He was slowly realizing though, that the heart he thought was closed off desperately craved attention only you could give. Only wanted your warm touch and smile that soothed a childhood ache he’d long suppressed.
Just as he moves to descend your stone path, the front door creaks open to staccato taps on your wooden porch. There’s a continuous clink of metal followed by excited barks as the black dachshund runs down the steps and around Ari’s feet.
“Barry! You can’t run-”
Beautiful as a painting in a museum, there you stood in your cut off jean shorts and some older looking shirt. Your hair much shorter than the last time he saw you eight years ago, but the pixie cut only brought more attention to your gorgeous face and adorable cheeks.
Other than that, it’s as if you hadn’t aged a day.
“A-Ari?,” you stammer stepping further out onto your porch.
He has to clear his throat to get rid of the nerves blocking his words from escaping. “I…I’m sorry for just showin’ up like this. Would’ve called, but when they gave me my phone back it was dead.”
“So..you’re out?”
“Yea,” he softly smiles. You don’t return it though looking as if you’d seen a ghost while staying planted on the top step. Even Barry had returned back to your side, circling a couple times until he felt comfortable enough to lie down. “This was a mistake. Clearly she doesn’t want you here.”
“I’ll uh leave then,” Ari says nervously scratching the back of his neck after a long - and awkward enough - moment of silence between you two. “I didn’t mean to bother-”
Before he can finish, you’re running down the steps - not caring of the dirt and grass on your bare feet. He’s prepared for your deserved anger, whether that be yelling, shoves, or even punches. Instead, your fists clasp the front of his shirt as you pull him down to meet your lips.
After years apart his hands still automatically find their usual place on your body bringing you closer. Ari’s right on the side of your neck, tilting your chin however he needed to gain the access to your mouth he missed, while his left dragged from your hip to the middle of your back holding you to him.
Your moan hitting him in a deep, long ignored place that has him embarrassed like a teenage boy how fast his blood runs southward.
The need for air has you both begrudgingly parting, while your foreheads stay connected. “I’m sorry..for everything,” he whispers letting his thumb graze along your petal soft bottom lip. It’s as if he thinks you’ll break he’s so gentle - like it’s a fragile piece of artwork he dared touch.
"I didn't-"
"Shh," you reply leaning up to peck his lips once more. "Later."
-
Your lips barely separate journeying the short distance from your front door to your bedroom. Both of them red and swollen, yet neither of you attempt to stop as your back hits the light blue comforter - fluffy and soft as a cloud.
His hands grip your thighs curling along his sides, yet fail to move where you need them most making you whimper as his mouth slides to your neck. Taking matters into your own hands, you pull his shirt over his muscled back - silently giggling to yourself and filling with a sense of pride hearing his pleasured groan as your nails rake against his warm skin.
They’re set for his buckle next, but Ari’s quick to use his rougher and stronger ones to pin on either side of your head. “Ari please,” you whine eagerly trying to grind your hips so your soaking core can get some type of relief. You know he’s desperate for something too briefly nudging the tent formed in front of his pants.
“I know, I know.” He unsuccessfully tries to kiss the pout from your lips. “I..I wanna take my time tonight. It’s been eight years sweetheart.”
The deprived and needy part of you wants to counter, urging him for the opposite since it’s been so long. Instead, you nod letting him completely take control.
Slowly, he helps remove your clothes before open mouth kisses and taps of his tongue flow down from your neck and across your heaving chest to your stomach. You moan arching your back to lift your breasts closer to his face when he returns there taking his time attacking one nipple with his tongue while the other is groped and plucked in his free hand.
By the time he finally reaches your waiting and wet core, it only takes one lick and your sweet release is covering his beard.
“S-Sorry,” you stammer feeling your skin heat even more from shame not wanting that to happen so quickly.
“Sorry?,” he softly chuckles before leaving a kiss on your mound. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”
The sound nearly has you in tears knowing your Ari was back. The one you knew loved you just as much as you loved him.
Having had a taste after going so long without, he can’t wait for more switching between his skillful tongue and fingers until your juices flow again, His mouth attached to you; greedily slurping everything you could give him. Your fingers are seemingly locked in his hair as he rises enough to remove his pants. Grunting as he grabs the base - past the point of painfully hard - to direct himself inside you.
“Fuck,” he moans into your neck feeling you rapidly pulse around him. So warm and tight he has to restrain himself from taking you like a wild animal.
Not that you would mind.
“M’not gonna last baby.”
“Spose to happen,” you slur clutching around him urging him to move.
His hand tightly pinning your hip to the bed, his thrusts start slow yet hard before gaining speed the closer he feels. Simultaneously, your cries of his name get louder as well while his mouth and tongue move along your neck and earlobe.
“Shit, I feel you right there baby come on. Come with me.” You can’t comprehend anything with your brain in this foggy, love drunk state, yet somehow your body complies when his thumb finds your swollen and throbbing nub squirting against his skin and down to the sheets below. “Mm good girl.”
His final pumps have you filled until no more can stay. A small mix of both your releases leaking from your hole with every surge of his hips until he’s drained.
Exhausted, he carefully tries to pull out but your whines have him stopping. Softly smiling to himself while slowly lowering until he’s comfortably laying on top of you. “Calm down I’m here.”
Soon your even breaths fill his ears and he’s able to lie on his side - gently moving you with him- to completely take in the area surrounding him. His fingertips mindlessly tracing along your thigh as he reacquaints himself to your bedroom. It was fitting for you in every way, from the light yellow of the walls to the books lining the shelves he built for you long ago. Your few stuffed animals in a wicker basket in the corner as if they were prepared for bed themselves.
Ari notices one in particular - a white bunny with long ears and pink bows he bought you during a trip to the store one day - on your dresser next to a framed picture you must’ve secretly took. He appeared to be taking a break from something dressed in a gray tee, dark jeans, and work-boots with his utility belt on his hips. A bottle of water in his hand lifted to his lips as he looked off somewhere in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he was watching a bird peck the ground trying to find bugs or seeds to eat.
And he looked so peaceful. So calm for once in his tormented life. He had you to thank for that being kind and willing enough to share your light when he fought so hard against it.
In the bit of moonlight peeking through the blinds, he can make out ‘Home’ in the corner of the picture causing the slightest curl to his lips as he holds you closer.
“You kept putting up with me,” he quietly speaks pecking your temple. “So patient even after everything. Know I’m never leavin you again sweetheart. I’m home for good.”
#CT 2024 raffle entry#ari levinson#ari levinson au#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x black!reader#red sea diving resort#ari levinson x woc#chris evans#chris evans x black reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans x woc!reader#CT 2024 community extravaganza
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a flinch is enough
info: the past never forgets, and techno never forgives. 》 they/them 》 in canon + platonic 》 1.4k words
warnings: sexual assault, explicit descriptions of murder/blood, hurt/comfort, swearing
a/n: this was a request from my beautiful 🌹 anon, thank you for sending this in. i made the implications of sexual assault a a little more subtle but i still hope you like it.
this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.
——♤——
the moonlit sky was a beautiful dark blue as you stared at the light. you had been doing housework the entire day due to your counterpart being too busy with whatever he was brewing upstairs. the piglin hybrid usually helped you when he was home, it's his house after all. but today was different, you supposed.
you were so caught up in the moon's doings that you didn't notice the tall figure creeping down the stairs and right behind you. he assumed you were aware of him and went to tap on your shoulder.
as soon as he does you whip your head around, backing away from him as you hold one arm in front of your face and the other in front of your lower body. the shaking of your body became more prominent as time went on.
"(y/n)?"
you couldn't look at him. you weren't strong enough.
"(y/n), please. look at me."
you lowered your arms hesitantly and looked him in the eyes still filled with fear.
"(y/n), i'm not going to hurt you. i promise."
you averted your gaze and drop both your arms. tears leaked out of your eyes and cupped your face with your hands, all the memories coming back and hitting you like a truck.
"i'm so sorry, techno."
you dropped to the floor, your knees buckling under you and techno barely being able to catch you. you felt a heavy, warm cape drape over your figure while a worried piglin grunt escaped techno's throat. he got on one knee and rested one of his hands on your shoulder.
"don't apologize."
two simple words managed to tug at your heartstrings so harshly you couldn't hold it in anymore. you sobbed loudly into your hands, completely losing any posture you tried to maintain. techno was startled, thinking he did something wrong. he quickly snapped out of it, however, and pulled your body by the shoulders into his chest. his firm grasp made you feel secure, stifling your cries a little.
"...are you alright?"
you knew he had no idea how to handle it from here, but you appreciated the concern and kindness he showed. you pulled back from his embrace and wiped your eyes gingerly.
"i'm.. a little better."
"good."
the voices wanted to know who did this - who made you this way. who the fuck hurt you? he tried to keep them quiet, but he wanted them dead as much as his mind.
"can you tell me what happened?"
everything was silent for a few seconds. the voices were quiet, nothing came out of techno's mouth. you sighed and shakily started explaining yourself. techno listened silently, trying to catch every detail and description of the man who scarred you. he had a basic image of him in his mind by the time you were done.
"thank you for telling me."
techno glanced outside the window, the soft glow of the moon telling him it's late. how long had he been brewing? he shuffled a bit and eventually stuck an arm under your legs and upper body. with a small yelp you were lifted a few feet in the air, the cape that you were siting under fell off your back and onto the floor in the proces.
"you need some rest."
you didn't bother trying to stop him. your mind was foggy and your body felt heavy.
"thank you, techno."
"shh, there's no need to thank me."
in comfortable silence you were carried up the stairs and into techno's room. you were confused, you had your own room after all. you didn't mind, though. he placed you on the mattress he slept on rarely. his bed was bigger, the blanket was heavier, the pillow was softer, everything felt better. you wrapped yourself in the plush blanket and felt your eyelids getting heavier already.
"sleep well, (y/n)."
just as he was about to stand up you grabbed a hold of his wrist. he looked at you quizzically, knitting his eyebrows together.
"where are you going?"
"don't worry, i won't be away for long. now sleep."
"fine. good night, techno."
"good night."
—
looking through his bag once more technoblade checked if he forgot to grab anything; he had food, arrows, ender pearls, potions and a small knife. on his hips hung his axe, crossbow and sword, yearning to be used. his bag was full and everything he needed was in his possession. before he opened the door techno noticed the red velvet fabric resting on the ground. with a few paces he arrived in the kitchen and picked up the cape. he swung it over his shoulders and adjusted it carefully. with a loud exhale he stepped out of his house and into the cold weather of the tundra. he whisteled a command and one of the wolves in the pack jumped out of the enclosure it sat in and rushed over to techno's side. he was going to find them.
you've shown him your previous residence multiple times, which is where he was going to look first. it was his best guess. while making his way over to your former abode the wolf that traveled with him was scouting out ahead, hoping it would find it faster than techno.
techno's eyes shoot in the animal's direction when it starts barking aggressively at a moving figure across the woods. the voices screamed at him to assist his pet, to shoot him, kill him immediately, to which he happily obliged. he sped over to his companion, hoping to catch a better glimpse of the person.
"stop him, now!"
techno ordered the animal. after a few seconds he heard a loud thud followed by a yell belonging to a man in immense pain. he made his way over to the barking wolf, it having a slightly stained mouth from its jaws going through the man's flesh and muscles. he found them.
"what's the rush?"
he towered over the other male pathetically writhing on the floor. his calf had a nasty teeth mark, bleeding profusely and covered in dirt and saliva.
"p-please... don't... hurt me!"
"why shouldn't i?"
technoblade hated these kind of men; not even willing to fight or run. just begging and whimpering for mercy. it made him sick. the wolf that followed him all the way here was still barking, ready to tear the man to shreds.
he takes his netherite axe off his hip and hoists it over his shoulder. techno looks the other man right in the eyes, fully aware it fills him with fear. he wanted to feel everything you were put through. he was going to feel your pain.
"i...i've never done anything to you..!"
technoblade froze at the sentence. nothing? he thinks he's done nothing? he's not completely wrong; he's never physically hurt him - he's never even met him before. his train of thought was interrupted by the voices yelling in his head. they were screaming at him to cut him, to strangle him, to burn him, anything. he needed to feel pain.
"does the name (y/n) mean anything to you?"
the horror on the man's face got worse by the second, him figuring out why techno is here. the piglin drops to one knee and gets about an inch away from his victim's face.
"am i going to get an answer?"
"y-yes! we were friends a few years ago."
techno let his axe fall off his shoulder and into the dirt, the blade only falling a few inches away from the other male's injured leg.
"do friends traumatize each other?"
the question filled the victim with dread, his monotone voice only adding to the fear.
"y-you don't know what we did!"
the sudden surge in confidence surprised techno, to be sure. there was nothing more pathetic than a man yelling at the brink of death in such a tone. he scoffed with an amused expression and retracted his axe back into the holder that rested on his hip.
"yeah! they were lying to you, i promise. that's the reason i stopped being friends in the first- GAH!"
his sentence was cut of by a dagger being plunged into his stomach and dragged up to his ribs, cutting open his body. he mewled and moaned in agonizing pain, unable to form any coherent words.
"you disgust me."
technoblade stood up, his ears twitching and voices pleased. the blood on his hand dripped on the dried leaves as he called the wolf he brought with him. as the animal sped over to technoblades' side the screams of the impaled man were completely gone. looking over his shoulder he sees the lifeless body of the man who has haunted you for a long time.
he'll never hurt you again.
——♤——
thank you for reading, hope you liked it.
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#dream smp x reader#dream smp x y/n#dream smp x you#mcyt x reader#mcyt x y/n#mcyt x you#technoblade x reader#technoblade x y/n#technoblade x you#techno x reader#techno x y/n#techno x you#dream smp fluff#mcyt fluff#technoblade fluff#techno fluff#dream smp angst#mcyt angst#technoblade angst#techno angst#dream smp fanfiction#mcyt fanfiction#technoblade fanfiction#techno fanfiction#c!techo x reader
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Blue Flames of a One Night Stand
(18+) Dabi + (y/n fem)
part 2 part3 part4
www.wattpad.com
It was never meant to be like this. The one-night stand should have ended hours ago but some how the sun rose with you tucked in his arms. He just wanted a night to unwind with a few drinks and a quick release but somehow you came home with him and spent the night.
The light flowed in from the window between the holes of the old curtains. Your body curled up under his blanket trapping one of his arms underneath you like a pillow. Dabi took his free arm from over you to rub the sleep out of his eyes. After blinking a few times to adjust to the early afternoon light his gaze traveled over your sleeping form. Dabi smiled at himself seeing your ruined mascara streamed down your cheeks. Memories of your screams flicked in his mind.
“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. Dabi fell back onto the bed tossing is arm over his face with a low grumble. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still peacefully sleeping. Slowly he dragged his palm over his face in frustration.
Slowly he pulled his arm out from under you trying not to wake you. As you rolled away the blanket fell away from your chest revealing your perked nipples. Deep bite marks over your chest and neck reminded him of his actions last night in his drunken haze. Dabi’s cock twitched at the sight of you exposed. He softly watched you sleep on his bed for a moment before snapping himself out of his trance. Slowly he pulled the blanket back up over you before sliding out of bed.
Enjoying the feeling of the cold floor beneath his feet he took a step only to feel silky fabric bush across his toes. Looking down to the floor was the dress he burned off your body. A sinister smiled graced his lips at the memory of how the dress hugged your curves until his blue flames helped him rip the fabric from your body. He let out a groan as he picked up the burned fabric. When he stood back up, he began to feel painfully aware of his arousal. Letting out a huff of air from his nose Dabi made his way to the bathroom.
With a twist of the lock, he felt secure with in the small space. Quickly discarding your mini dress into the tiny trash bin. He was not sure what you would wear when you got up, but he tried to convince himself that it was not his problem. You should never have let him burn your clothes in the first place if you did not have anything else to wear home. His sadistic side absolutely loved the way his blue flames danced across your skin and how you moaned when he would use his quirk.
Leaning over the sink his eyes slowly trailed up to meet his reflection in the mirror. Your bright lipstick smeared over his own lips with matching kiss marks down his neck and chest. A ring of faint lipstick remained at the base of his shaft. Giving himself a slow stroke of his length with only the memory of how you took him deeply in your mouth in the dirty bathroom of the club last night. As his eyes made it back up to the mirror, he noticed that in the same lipstick color on his body was your name and number on the glass. Dabi checked darkly to himself knowing he had completely forgotten your name if he even bothered to ask at all in his drunken haze.
Dabi stopped his hand to reach for the shower faucet. Quickly stepping inside the shower to enjoy the cold water running over his burned shin. Dabi placed his left had on to the tile wall as his right began to stroke along his hardened length. The metal of his piercing rolled along his palming action. He began to breath deeply into the cold water that flowed over his face. Quiet curses and deep grunts escaped his lips at the memory of your body bousing on his old mattress. With a few final strokes his chest hummed as he found his release. Dabi’s mind began to clear as he watched the water swirl down the drain. With a deep breath he finally grabbed the soap and washed away the possessive love marks and dried bodily fluids you left on his body.
With a feeling of slight mental clarity Dabi walked over to his secondhand dresser. Aloud squeak from opening the drawer caused you to stir. Realizing you are finally waking up he quickly pulls out a pair of black jeans and old white shirt. Once clothed he reached to the top of the dresser for his cigarettes placing one in his mouth to light with his quirk.
Slowly he walks over to the bed. Seeing your bare bottom peeking out from the sheets with is handprint lightly branded into your skin began to fill his head with pleasant thoughts. ‘She left her number maybe she wants to meet again. Of course, she does, sluts like her love getting dicked down.’ The thought of you staying slowly turned into thoughts of his villainous life. ‘Wonder how that dusty Tomura would feel about her? He would want to share her as if that dusty virgin would know what to do with a piece of ass like that.’
The bed squeaked as he sat on the edge next to you. Leaning an arm over your body to hover over you he let out a puff of smoke away from your sleeping form. “Going to wake up at some point doll face?” Your face scrunched up as you let out a groggy groan soon to peak up at him with one eye.
“Coffee?” your voice comes out strained and scratchy.
“Ya, I got some,” there was a sarcastic chuckle in his voice, “anything else you want princess?” With a satisfied moan a smile crosses your face. You stretch your arms above your head and wiggle your body beneath him. You reach your hand over to clasp the hand Dabi held the cigarette with and pulled his cigarette into your mouth while he held it for a drag.
“Shower if you don’t mind.” You lock eyes with the bright blue that stole your attention all night. You were not sure what he was thinking but you enjoyed how intensely he was staring down at you.
“Water only runs cold princess.”
“Well after last night I could use a little cooling off.” Dabi frimly grabbed your ass cheek with a satified hum in his throat. You could feel a low heat from his palm made from his quirk. After a moment he release you. Standing up from the bed he put out his cigarette in the ash tray on the windowsill next to the bed. He started to walk to the door and your eyes followed his movement.
“If your going to eye fuck me this early in the morning, we could just go another round.” Dabi glanced up and down your barley covered body with a grip on his belt buckle as if he were waiting for you to invite him back over.
“Shower first need to get your kids out of my hair.” As Dabi tried to hold back his laughter you managed to roll out of his bed. His blue eyes drank in every curve of your naked body in the light of the day. The bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites and burns only made you look more attractive to him. “See something you like?” You say with a sarcastic tone as you bend over slowly giving him a full view of your ass while you pick up you purse.
“Just admiring my handy work babe.” You slowly strut across the room lust filled blue eyes follow your every step. You arch up on your toes to place a chase kiss on his lips. Tossing your bag over your shoulder you walk into his bathroom.
You walk into the kitchen hair wet and up in a messy bun. Glasses on your face because you needed to rest your eyes after wearing contacts late into the night. Thin short pink running short and a tight white tank top with matching thin flimsy sandals. With each step closer to Dabi the smell of coffee makes you let out a satisfied hum.
“So, your name is Dabi?” You had noticed he taken your lipstick and wrote on the bathroom mirror as you had to what you assumed to be his name. Dabi slowly turned around with a mug to his lips grunting confirmation to your question. He handed you a mug of black coffee and took the moment you were distracted by your beverage to take in your appearance.
He was surprised that you had a change of clothes in your small bag, but his face showed no emotion. Part of him was hoping you would walk out in only a towel or the hoodie he left on the bed for you. Dabi thought you looked so normal and innocent in your day clothes making him wonder why you were here with him. You made the aggressive advances on him the night before and now he was starting to question your motives. The bitter taste to his coffee was nothing to the bitter feeling of being used. He sucked down another gulp of coffee trying to harden his already shielded heart. Dabi placed his mug down, crossed his arms over his chest then lean back on the counter.
“(Y/n) right?” His tone was dark and sarcastic when he spit out your name. You felt an unpleasant chill run down your spine. Trying to place the mug down without showing how intimidated you were by his sudden change in attitude was difficult. You smiled tightly and hummed out a yes to show he had your full attention.
Dabi enjoyed the fear in your eyes it gave him a deep satisfaction. He pushed himself away from the kitchen counter in two quick steps he was toe to toe with you. His height difference was clear as he looked down at you. His grip was tight on the tip of your chin when he pulled your gaze up to meet his. He leaned in close with an intimidating look in his blue eye.
“What is a sweet little thing like you doing playing round in a hole in the wall bar with a thug like me?”
You felt frozen in place as you tried to steady your breathing. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It was obvious you planned to sleep with someone you even packed extra clothes. You could not blame him for the question, but it was the deep threatening tone that he asked in that made you want to choose your next words carefully.
“So, what is it, were you board and needing someone to spice up your perfect life? Or do you get off on using people?” You try to respond but only a few low squeaks escape. Your throat feels try and legs weak as you try to look away from his sharp glare.
When Dabi goes to release your chin, he pushes you head to the side nearly knocking you off balance. With a huff he is back to leaning nest to the counter arms folded over his chest. He will not even look at you and the sour expression on his face fills you with guilt.
“Just go.” With those harsh words you felt tears filling your eyes.
You storm off to his bedroom to grab the last of your things. While in there you take the time to mentally collect yourself. This was not how things were meant to be. You needed to tell him the truth even if he did not believe you or care what you say. A rising determination was fueling you to go back out and tell him why you hooked up with him last night. Straightening up your stance to toss your bag over your shoulder as you turn around you find Dabi filling up the door frame and blocking your way out. Your body slightly jerks back in response to not expecting him to be behind you.
“Umm Dabi,” you stuttered shyly as you spoke up, “Look its not like either of us were planning to have more than a one night.” He squinted his eyes at you but said nothing. Inside he was slightly offended after how softly he thought of you this morning but over all he did agree with you. “Yes I did pursue you .. rather hard last night but I can explain.” You began to twiddle your finders nervously along the hem of your shirt. Dabi still stay silent, but the quirked eyebrow seemed to you as an indication to continue. “Well, you kind of look like a villain.” You were not wrong, but Dabi still felt like he had a right to be offended plus he was starting to enjoy watching you squirm.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better being called a villain because why? My scars?” Dabi stood tall in the doorway radiating off an intimidating presence.
“Ok I know that came out wrong, but I needed someone to ruin my reputation.” Well, that was an unexpected answer. Dabi felt taken back as he tried to understand what kind of a woman would willing let a man ruin her reputation. Dabi took slow strides towards you closing the distance and still blocking you from the door. You backed away in a slow shuffle as he approached until the back of your knees met the bed nearly knocking you off balance. Dabi leaned his head down slightly and placed a firm grip on your chin tilting your face up at him.
“I -I just wanted my ex-boyfriend to leave me alone.”
“And how did I fit into that little plan of yours.”
“We broke up 6 months ago, but he won’t let me move on keep saying I’m good for his reputation because he’s some mid rank hero.” That peaked Dabi’s interest. He loosed his grip on your chin and took a slight step back wordlessly signaled for you to continue explaining with a flick of his hand.
“We broke up 6 months ago, but it was more like I dumped him because he is an abusive jerk.” You took a deep breath to try and suppress tears of the memories of your past relationship. “It got to the point I wasn’t allowed to have friends because I needed to always be available to him even though he was cheating all the time. When I called him out on the cheating, he just claimed they were very affectionate fans.” Your tone got bitter the more you spoke. “So even after I broke up with him and moved, he would still fallow me or have another hero friend follow me. He broke into my home and would constantly call me even when I was at work. He continued to tell people we were together and because other people never saw the abuse I was labeled as an ungrateful girlfriend.” You could no longer hold in the tears your voice was starting to crack from crying.
“Shhh Shhh- princess don’t waste anymore of your tears on a guy like that.” He tried hard to make his words sound sincere. Dabi knew all too well how corrupt heroes were and so he quickly thought of a way to help make you look more ‘ruined’. At least he would get another taste of you before ridding himself of unnecessary drama. He really did not need more heroes following him around but if his idea worked, even a little, there might not be one following you. It was a win, win, to him.
“You need to save all those tears for the punishment I’m about to give you.”
“Punishment?”
“That right, punishment. You have been a very naughty girl using people like that for your own needs.”
“But I- “
“No buts.” He guides you slowly to lay back on the bed with your feed dangling off at the knees over the edge. “You need to show me how sorry you are for what you have done and take your punishment. Got that?”
“Yes…sir.”
“Good girl.”
Dabi lightly nudged you to sit on the bed by putting his hand atop your shoulders. The bed made a loud creaking sound as your weight caused it to sink. His fingers slowly traced down your body until he finally placed his hands on either one of your thighs. As he leaned in, he pushed your legs apart. His nose ran up the length of your clothed slit the sensation caused you to let out a breathy moan.
“Wet already and I’ve barely touched you. I told you doll face this is a punishment.” Without wasting a moment Dabi smacked his hand hard on to the top of your feminine parts. You let out a loud sharp scream from the sharp pain. He quickly found your clit and started rubbing slow circles adding pleasure to the dulling pain you felt. His free hand crawled up towards the elastic band of your shorts hooking his fingers under the elastic. With a few shimmies of your shorts your bottom half was soon bare.
“Ooo!” Dabi leaned in and kissed the red handprint he left on your sensitive flesh. For a split second he felt guilty about how hard he hit you but the thoughts of what he was still planning to do was causing a sinister smile to form through his stapled face. “I’m starting to think you enjoy pain.”
“No, it’s not like that I..”, Unable to finish your sentence as a wave of pleasure was building up in you. Dabi no longer cared what you had to say he was more focused on the moans he could pull from you.
Your chest was slight blocking your view of fully seeing Dabi’s face, but you could feel his fingers slowly pumping into you. His lips and tongue swirled and sucked on your hood and clit. The combination was quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. After how long the two of you were intimate the night before your body was already sensitive.
You started to moan out what you though were words saying how you were about to cum but suddenly everything stopped. You sat up slightly in shock to see Dabi licking his finger of your juices with a sinister smirk. It was very quickly obvious he was not going to finish.
“I told you this was a punishment. Now get your things and get out.” With those cold words he stood up with your shorts in his hand. He lazily tossed them at you so dumbfounded by what just happened you nearly loss balance catching them. Dabi walked away from you as you put your clothes back on. He pulled out a cigarette and leaned near the partly opened window. Everything about him was cold again and it twisted you up inside far more than before.
Despite the aching in your shorts and the twisting pain in your chest you managed to gather your bag without crying again. You looked over at Dabi hoping to see some kind of emotion from him, but he turned his gaze away from you. With quick strides you made your way across his tiny apartment and out the front door. To make yourself feel a little better you slammed it shut behind you causing the cheep walls to shake.
Your angry pride filled power walk slowed after you made it a few blocked away. Slowly you shuffled to the nearby bus stop and leaned on the street sign. As you waited for the bus you allowed yourself to quietly let out tears. A mix of regret filled you as you replayed the last 24 hours in your mind. “Dabi..”
#Dabi#dabi x reader#dabi smut#mha smut#villain#league of villians x reader#lemon#todoroki smut#bnha smut#dabi is touya#touya todoroki#touya smut#my hero academia#blue flames
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he lives in my lap | reader x changbin
➛ Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x seo changbin
➛ Recommended listening: she lives in my lap, outkast
➛ Genre: pwp (smut), fluffy tones, 18+
➛ Word count: 3.9k
✨ Summary/Request Here ✨
Anon: sub!changbin nipple play drabble👁👁
i’m such a sucker for sub bin smh
a/n: thank you for requesting sweet anon! any day, any time i will write sub!changbin! this was such a pleasure to write n’ i hope that ya like it! <3
{see below for nsfw tags!}
NSFW: dom!reader, sub!changbin, tsundere!bin, slightlybratty!bin, established relationship, use of petnames, body worship (calm tf down ro, we know you love binnies’ bod), *plz pretend to be surprised here too* thigh kink, power dynamics, LOADS of nipple play (m receiving), praising & mild degradation, handjob, lil pet of petplay (bunny), v soft aftercare
♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥
you caught him sulking, bundled up in his chair with his legs crossed and his eyes dried. its the times like this when you don’t need him to tell you what’s going through his mind. he huffs and spins around just to get a moment to break his stare at the screen. he rubs at his temples where his headache surges, but he’ll never stop to ask for help or to express how tired he really is.
“what are you working on?” you simply ask as you cross the way behind him and squeeze his shoulders.
he sighs, and answers, “work.”
it’s barely an answer, but knowing him, prodding wouldn’t do much else.
“its getting late,” you pause, contemplating to next part of your phrase, “could you come to bed? i’d....love to have you with me...if you can.”
his fingers stop their typing, and he pulls off a single padded headphone to listen to you.
“you know that i’ve got a deadline. can’t.”
“wouldn’t you like to--”
“--can’t you just live one night without it?” he barks, swiveling in his seat to face you.
his eyes, the whites of them pink and his under-eyes bagged, tell you that you can’t take exactly what he means to heart, but still, it doesn’t hurt much less.
“bin--i just want you to take care of yourself and not overwork. you know that you need your rest to make everything work out right. right?”
your boyfriend sighs and composes himself, then puts his headphones back on.
“deadlines are deadlines.” changbin simply replies. “in a couple days it’ll be over.”
the sound of his clicking at his mouse fills the room back up, and this close you can hear the faint buzz of his music on the other side of his headphones. its as if he wants to create some kind of shell between you and him; he pulls his hood up and balls himself up in his big black hoodie.
with him, your patience overcomes anything.
“bin--” you reach for his arm to rub in calming little circles with your thumb, “you’re worrying me.”
the exhaustion in his voice causes it to crack, “i’m fine.”
it doesn’t take him much to go up in arms when you pull off his headphones to hold his puffy face in your hands. earnestly you hold his eyes with yours.
“you’ve worked so much already today. please, come to bed, i know you won’t admit it to yourself, but it’ll be okay if you sleep for just a little while....or, relax at least...”
changbin huffs out again in his same little annoyed nature. you knew the ins and outs of him well: your words might have gone in one ear and left out the other, but they still would jumble him up on their way out.
“i said that i’m fine,” your boyfriend repeats, “you’re worrying over nothing.”
it isn’t easy to admit defeat in the moment, but that’s all it is: a moment. he allows you the pause to plant a tiny kiss on his forehead before focusing back on his work. the truth is, you really did want him to join. the bed was always warmer with two anyway. these days, it was even a little hard to fall asleep with him.
“well,” you throw your hands on your hips, “i’ll just be back here...if you need anything. i can warm up your side for you, kay?”
for a moment, his fingers stop their clicking, wavering. “okay.”
he likes it when you wear his shirts and other little things like that. he even thinks that its cute when you steal his socks and they bunch up a little. after living together your clothes have started to all smell the same, but knowing that it’s his has always been enough for you.
at first, you promise yourself that you’ll stay up as long as he does, but not even you can stay up that late. he turns the lights off for you, leaving only his desk lamp and the blue screen of his desktop. silently you promise him that you’ll stay up as long as you can manage...
“--oh. sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up...”
your blurry eyesight makes out the time that’s ticked past two hours since you last remember checking.
“its okay,” your sleepy self returns. you’ve fallen asleep on his side of the bed which you promised to warm up, but he won’t ask you to give it up when you’re half awake.
“i’ve decided to sleep in late tomorrow.” he hums while reaching for his phone light to turn it off. “you’re right.”
“i know that i’m right.”
even in the dark you can feel his little joking smirk. the mattress makes springy sounds under the weight of your two bodies, and somehow your hands find their way into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. there’s nothing like feeling his presence beside you--its a kind of irreplaceable reassurance that you’ve only ever felt in him.
he’s close enough to feel his tiny breaths in the space between you, and how it tickles your upper lip. sleepy kisses float from your lips to his which he happy returns by pressing into you closer and melding your body with his. you make a point to kiss him slowly and with every ounce of intent that you are able to pour from yourself to him.
your love unties himself for you just as he does whenever he feels your thumb trace under his jaw slowly or as you hold his face in your hands, tilting him to deepen your exploration of his mouth. you can feel him get looser and looser after being so tightly bound. your hands work at his knots with swift fingers that interweave with his hair, then find their way to traipse up the hem of his clothes.
he mutters a little sound that could be translated into many pleasurable things, but you don’t need to think too hard to interpret it.
“binnie...” you coo, gently rolling him to his back to lean over him with your upper body, “you’re doing so well. i can tell how hard that you’re working...there’s no need to hide.”
he nods, allowing you to paint his cheeks with more little kisses that fall down to his neck, then travel back up to his ear where you nibble softly. in your own mind, its your favorite place to show him your love: he shivers feeling your breath quiver in his ear, then exhales out after feeling the small pull at his skin.
higher under his shirt your hands tip-toe, then trance the curves of his sides and finally reach the spot where he is most sensitive...your boyfriend gifts you the gorgeous sound of his uncontrollable little whimpers once he feels the pads of your fingers graze over one of his hardened nipples.
“oh?” you taunt, “already so sensitive?”
changbin attempts a scoff that comes out airy on his lips, “i mean, yeah...when you do that.”
your index circles his bud, causing and even more delightful symphony of shaking breaths to exit.
“...but its so late...” you remind him. its halfway between a genuine reminder and somewhat of a challenge. there’s nothing more that you would want, but the clock tells you otherwise.
your room is nearly devoid of light save for the way that the crescent moon peeks through the slits of the shades. the silver light illuminates his face in stripes, one of them directly over his eyes which makes them sparkle with the same iridescent shine of stars.
“do you think that i care?” changbin shies a bit into the puffy pillow that cradles his head.
from your position above him you can see the way that he pleads wordlessly, and how he just knows that he’s irresistible to you. his gaze softens to shift in that cute little pout. he too knows how to untie you, how to make you fall into him so deeply that you can’t see anything but him. he knows exactly what to say, how to wet his his cushy lip so it glistens just a little when he parts his mouth for you to crave even more than you already do.
“do you want me to say please?” he adds.
fuck, he really does know you well.
your knuckles rub along the fuzzy underside of his sweater, scribbling more circles around his nipples that hardens them painfully even though you’re barely touching him.
“that is my favorite word,”
his tone is airy, barely audible when he asks as politely as he can, “please, can you use me how you want?”
you tut, bowing low over his lips to only let them hover over his own. your lie of a kiss just barely makes contact with him. he whines from the promise of your taste, even wiggling his hips in his agony knowing that he won’t get what he wants quickly.
“hm, i didn’t really hear you that time...” slowly your hands begin to pull the fabric of is shirt over his head. “say it again for me?”
“please...?” your boyfriend desperately repeats.
“and you’ll be a good boy for me? you’ll do what i say?”
“yes...yes. everything that you say.”
his hoodie ruffles up his cute dark locks that sprawl all over his face and even cover his eyes. for a moment you think of how his hair had gotten longer than you had noticed. you sweep it aside, holding his eyes while your hand swipes up and down his chest just between his pectorals.
“and you’ll tell me when you want me to stop?”
finally you grant him the kiss he’s been waiting for which he drinks up greedily, moaning carefully over your lips.
“mmhm.”
you nearly startle him after forgetting to move slowly, finding your own eagerness taking hold of you. changbin’s eyes gleam seeing you on top of him and both of your legs straddling his sides. you slither farther down his body to align yourself correctly, then pause finding your place.
after, he then startles you by letting out a sudden cry in response to his beloved sensation. both of your hands are busied pinching and tweaking directly at his pink nipples that turn redder from your touch. you toy with the hardened buds while his eyelids flutter--he can’t figure out if he wants to close his eyes to feel it all, or watch you. he decides upon the latter and tries his best focus on your hands spread on his chest.
its a wondrous indulgence of yours as you watch the way that his muscles fill up your hands and even how his skin pops between your fingers when you squeeze. “my bun,” you sigh in admiration, “i just can’t handle you...”
your head spins when he echoes, “neither can i...”
it seems fair for you to take off your top too, so you do. your hands survey farther up his chest, then course down his arms which you tuck to rest on each side of his head.
“you know how it goes.”
he doesn’t even need the reminder.
“fuck, you’re gonna take all the time you want now, aren’t you?”
your boyfriend regains a bit of his composure to snark with that little unfair smirk of his.
“would you rather me not do this for you at all...bun?”
he rolls his eyes, impatient and annoyed for barely a second. he’s quieted the moment that he feels your lips float over his skin. you can feel the way that his breaths are thrown out from his lungs once you press even harder. his hips squirm and he turns into a puddle of half-choked winces that turn high pitched and needy the closer that you get to the sensitive areas of his chest. your tongue twists around it, only teasing at first and never allowing him to feel the full heat of your mouth. your left hand swipes up his side and settles right over his other bud which you toy with between your index and middle finger. you pull, then delight in the way that you can even feel his moans start deep from his core then come ripping out carelessly.
at last you grant him the wet of your mouth when you tense your lips to pull too. you know that he likes it when you use your teeth too, but you never start with the most exciting part.
his arms twitch like they usually do where they lay on both sides of his head. your boyfriend interlocks his fingers behind his head to pull and hold them there until his knuckles turn white. he would touch you, but you don’t like getting that distracted. you don’t need it anyway to heighten the way that unraveling him already pools heat between your legs and sends you grinding over his midsection.
you use a combination of gentle kisses contrasted with the pull of your fingers and eventually the bite of your teeth to get him properly gasping out as if he cannot breathe. your name finds its way twisted into some of his moans too; it sounds so perfect, so right said that way: airy, wavering, shaking after he bites it into his lip too.
you stop to admire him, now using your thumbs to tease at the way his reddened nipples now look painfully aroused and even glimmer with the sheen of your saliva upon them. changbin is flushed out all across his cheeks and even over his nose bridge. the rouge spreads down to his neck where the veins there quiver with each of his senseless gasps for air. he jerks from the careful feeling of the pad of your thumb compared to how viciously you had tugged at him before. you grind down your hips into his hard-on between your legs and into your own heat which craves him just as much.
“good?”
he nods, and chuckles out after reveling under your view.
you free his hands from their place behind his head, then you immediately find yourself wrapped up so tightly in his arms that you let out a tiny squeak. his thick arms that stretch with the strings of muscles always remind you that the power you have over him, he holds over you just the same. he brings your lips back to his to kiss thanks into your mouth that’s become raw from your musings.
“i’m not done yet.” you sneer directly into him.
“i had a feeling.”
your love knows how to sit and look pretty for you. how to keep his hands to himself and wait just enough for you to make a proper mess of him. even though you don’t see it, he’s infatuated watching you twist over him to the bed table and pick up the cup of water that holds partially melted ice. the sound of the cubes chime against the glass and burns your hand with the cold once you choose the largest of the lot.
changbin looks at you fearful at first still consumed by your heat which lingers all over his body. you test out the sensation by spreading out your opposite hand first which is wet from the condensation from the glass.
“ah!” he winces out.
“too cold?”
“n-no...” somethings shift in the way that he holds your gaze and the ice quickly melting in your hand. “i-i want it...”
“you sure?”
“please don’t make me wait again...”
the cold from the cube starts to make your fingertips turn numb, but its of no conscious to you when he holds every bit of your attention while you wait for his visceral response.
he yelps, nearly almost screaming from the mixture of cold and hot that swirls around his body. he grinds his teeth into a groan next to steady himself feeling the tenderness of his nipples next to the freezing cold. you can’t help but stifle a greedy laugh at how downright confused he seems at the two sensations of arousal and biting pain that made him feel even more lightheaded.
you love the sight of the whites of his eyes when he reaches a kind of euphoria that only you can give him.
“oooooh god.” he laughs along with you at how preposterously unreal it feels. the little smile that anchors on his mouth is unbelievably cute, and you can’t help but want to feel it on your own.
you trace circles around and around his buds until they harden just as they had done under your tongue. he shivers too; either from the cold, or from the overload of his senses--it travels from the tip of his head, through his hips and down to his toes.
“aw, my bun likes this...doesn’t he?”
“mmm.”
the ice only lasts a few moments on his chest and between your fingers. after, his chest is left shimmering from the new substance that looks like liquid crystal all over him and where it drips down to the comforter in droplets.
you shift your attention lower down his stomach where you stop right above his bellybutton to let both of your hands hook under his sweats. you look up for approval, which he eagerly gives with the hastily phrase repeated, “do it, do it.”
his clothes it the floor in a puddle, and your boyfriend is left bare for you to take in. you indulge in every single part of him that you’ve explored time and time again, but each time it feels renewed. your hands eat up his thighs with covetous squeezes until the crescent-moon shape of your nails decorates him nearly everywhere. they slide up higher, finding the place where his curved and rosy cock bobs waiting for your touch.
“poor bunny....does it ache when i don’t touch your cute little cock?” you trace a finger up his shaft which causes his body to violently jerk in response. the truth of the matter is, he’s anything but little.
even when your words turn venomous back on him, he still drinks it up as if it is nectar.
a wicked chuckle passes by your lips remembering what he had said to you a couple hours before. “can’t you just live one night without it?”
“n-no--” he stammers, “i-i’m sorry that i said--”
you silence him with a finger to his lips. “sit up.”
he does so, trying to gauge what you’re planning to do next. the mystery of it all enthralls him to the point of working his cock up with pearly pre-cum that drips down his length. changbin waits as you reposition yourself behind him, just so he sits flush against your torso and between your legs.
at first, you trial you hands up and down his thighs to create a show for him. your fingertips tickle him gently where his leg hair grows thin and soft. you then move to massage into his inner thighs and the more intimate erogenous areas there that you claw at.
“hm. maybe i’ll let you get what you want if you say--”
your boyfriend’s hands bury themselves into the sheets to grab at anything to provide balance. “--please! please...i’ll say it however many times it takes...”
you tsk, then nibble into the peachy cartilage of his earlobe. “mm, that’s enough. i’m feeling generous...”
you wet a stripe of your saliva up your palm and guide it to his length where you give him one good squeeze that is more than enough to send his toes curling. he whimpers out feeling the lack of contact afterward, realizing that one squeeze was all that you were planning. instead, shift your motions toward his tip and his seeping slit. the tip of your index draws rings around it which elicits agonizingly gruff growls from his throat that you’ve only ever heard a couple times before.
“please, please, please....” he chants.
you do love the way it sounds.
his moans become even louder once he feels the tension from your grasp where it returns to his shaft and pumps. in a way, the whole image is just perfect for the both of you: as you peer over his shoulder you can’t even but help feel turned on by the sight of your own hand and how it twists around the throbbing veins that imprint his cock. with your non-dominant hand you continue traversing the squishy and fleshy bits of his thigh.
your boyfriend laughs out his growing self-indulgence while you work your hand up and down, then experiment with testing him with the ways that you can squeeze harder then softer. changbin throws his head back into your shoulder lazily once he starts to feel his senses slow and intensify the closer that he gets to his release. he shudders against you too, and tightens his body too as he edges himself even closer.
after the distraction that you’ve crafted tugging him up and down and how the twist of your wrist feels like heaven, he jumps still feeling your free hand find its way back up his chest one last time roll his nipple between your fingers. the combination of the two sends him spilling right over the edge and overflowing with a rambling of curses and half-attempted moans coupled with the release of his seed cascading down the back of your hand.
nearly all of your boyfriend’s weight falls upon you and you giggle trying to deal with your previously cold and stubborn lover reduced to nearly nothing but a limp and euphoric mess in your arms.
“you okay?” you ask him, peppering tiny kisses into his neck.
“give me...a minute.” he laughs out too. “i’m just...really...exhausted. but--in a really, really good way.”
“time to get some rest then?”
changbin nods, and gives you back as many kisses he can with his neck titled at this somewhat awkward angle.
“stay right here, hm?”
you cradle him back to slide out from behind him and work at cleaning yourself off, and them him--he loves obliging if it means that he gets to be pampered with clean clothes and your little massage to his shoulders to get his tensed body relax even more. the blankets get exchanged for new ones and you find him telling you not to put your shirt back on.
changbin flushes, explaining, “i just like being close like this with you. everyday. any day. i can’t live without it either.”
you can’t exactly tell who is “holding” who, but it all just feels so peaceful and intimate you almost forgot that you were supposed to be sleeping until the day breaks behind your boyfriend’s shoulder.
“thank you,” changbin sighs, “thank you for taking care of me.”
“now start taking care of yourself.” you tease, “don’t overwork yourself, got it?”
your boyfriend sleepily hums, and tows you right back into his chest. “don’t worry, i have a feeling that i’ll be sleeping in pretty late.”
~🌹~
Bunch of (Ro)ses!
@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim
#skz smut#stray kids smut#kpop smut#seo changbin smut#changbin smut#seo changbin x reader smut#stray kids drabbles#stray kids oneshots#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#kpop fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#kpop fanfiction#seo changbin x reader#changbin x reader#changbin x you#seo changbin x you#changbin x y/n#seo changbin x y/n#seo changbin x gender neutral reader#kpop oneshots#stray kids imagine#kpop imagine
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Take the Silence Away
for the request: Lou Miller helping fem!reader with her depression
Summary: You thought you’d be home alone to deal with your feelings, so when Lou arrives, you’re worried you’ve screwed up entirely.
Characters: Lou x fem!reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: mention of depresssssionnnnn, mental health issues, general sadness and whatnot, self-degrading talk
Nobody ever talks about when the lowest points hit on the brightest days. But you were getting quite acquainted with the concept.
The windows were open, you could hear car honks and children laughing. The sun was shining directly on your face. There was a smell of spring in the air and you should have felt absolutely fine. The day could not have looked more perfect if you looked outside.
But Lou was forced to cancel your lunch date, and somehow that had you crumbling where you stood. You couldn’t remember the reason; it didn’t matter. She wasn’t coming today. You knew she didn’t have a choice, and weren’t mad at her. You were mad at yourself, for reacting the way you did.
Wearing your cutest, most attractive dress, hair done up and makeup flawless. You really should go and change. But you couldn’t get up out of the bed that you had collapsed in when you had finished your phone call.
Was it really all that bad? No, seemingly not so. But your brain didn’t quite agree with that.
Tears had smeared your mascara half an hour ago. An hour before that your hair had slipped from its stylings. You had been starving for lunch with Lou, but you hadn’t budged to eat at all since.
Were you weak? Weak for getting so despaired when one good thing fell out of place? Was there something else you should have been paying attention to?
It didn’t matter, you decided. Nothing mattered, right? Nothing but numbness. It was something you were accustomed to.
There were birds chirping close to your window, and it made you turn your head only slightly, but you were too late to see what birds. You caught a wing flapping before they disappeared, and sighed in exhaustion. Missed that too.
You don’t know how long you stayed in bed like that. Did the phone ring? The front door? You didn’t notice if it did.
Your eyelashes felt crusty from the dried tears and makeup and it irritated your skin. You aggressively rubbed your eye until it was sore and blurry, and your fingers came away with smudged makeup. Oh right, you were wearing makeup.
The ceiling really wasn’t that entertaining. Maybe you should get out of bed, put on your pj’s and just crawl back in bed. Or sleep in the bathtub- the couch? Heck, the floor would be just fine. You deserved it, you were sure..
The sound of the front door opening caught you by surprise, but you didn’t budge. An intruder? Good. Let them take what they want, you couldn’t be bothered anyway-
“Guess who?” a voice called out.
Your head shot up. You tensed your body like you wanted to leap out of bed at the sound of Lou’s voice- oh it would be nice to see her, right?
But no, you looked like a mess. Fuck. There were footsteps approaching, she always knew where to find you. You wouldn’t have time to fix yourself, not this time.
You sat up and rubbed a little harder at your eyes, knowing it wouldn’t do anything to hide the puffiness and smeared eyeshadow. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You didn’t want her to see you like this-
The door creaked open and you rushed to sit, perched on the edge of the bed, forcing a smile.
“Guess who got us dinner?” Lou was grinning, holding a few plastic bags. You could smell the takeout where you were sitting, and your stomach grumbled.
The sight of her made your heart burst. She looked impeccable- her hair swept by the wind, looking rosy-cheeked from the bike ride. Her shoes were off, and she was wearing a pair of ugly, disgustingly coloured socks. Socks you recognized that you bought her as a joke, because it never would have gone with her fashion sense, but that she wore anyways. You felt yourself choke up.
“Hey, baby. Everything all right?” her voice was riddled with concern, and your stomach dropped with dread. You hated making others worried, hated to see them sad, hated-
“Yup. I- uh, fell asleep,” you said. “Guess it was a good idea to cancel lunch.”
You let out a huff of dry laughter, but Lou wasn’t having any of it. She put the takeout bags on the ground, and disappeared into the closet. You sat there, startled for a moment, and wondering what she was doing.
She came out in a fuzzy cow-print onesie, and had another zebra-print onesie in hand. There was a clear intention in her eyes, and you would’ve ran out the room if you had had the energy.
“You are not making me wear that,” you laughed incredulously. They were kept in the back because neither of you ever wore them, until now. Her eyebrow raised and with lightning speed, she was on top of you, making you shriek.
“Lou! Lou, oh my god, what are you-” you burst out in a fit of giggles as she tickled your sides, flailing your limbs. She managed to worm the bottom half of the onesie onto your body. You wheezed with laughter, out of breath.
“Okay, okay okay.” You finally relented, letting her take off your dress and zip up the cozy onesie all the way. She tugged the hood over your head, letting your zebra ears flop and you rolled your eyes, smiling.
Then she leapt off the bed and grabbed the take out. She precariously balanced it on the bed before sitting on it, and tugging you to sit in her lap, legs intertwined.
Without another word, she kept you in that position as she passed you your takeout box, the familiar, amazing smell of your favourite meal making you light up. She rubbed a hand along your leg without another word as you dug in, realizing how hungry you were, and that Lou somehow had managed to order the one thing that got you eating.
You ate in silence for a little while, sitting in Lou’s lap in your cozy outfits. Though it was quiet, there was calm, and you actually found it quite relaxing.
“Do you wanna talk about anything?” Lou eventually asked, mouth full of food. You stilled, looking down at your plate. Your fingers began trembling a bit.
“I-” You hesitated. But then, Lou’s hand wrapped around yours and she squeezed firmly.
So you let it all out. Your stresses, your fears, your numbness. Halfway through, Lou was blinking back tears, and so were you. When you could no longer form coherent words and were choking out sobs and half syllables, Lou wrapped her arms around you tightly and tugged you close. Eventually she slowly fell back onto the mattress, with you holding on like a small koala bear.
“If you’re worried that now you’ve scared me off, don’t be,” she eventually said, once you sobs had subsided somewhat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Your throat was hoarse and dried up, and you buried your nose in her neck. “You have every reason to leave me.”
“That’s not true.”
She nudged you until you pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I have every reason to stay. If you’ll let me. And talk to me about things, when they get bad?”
You could have saved both of you from so much turmoil right at this moment. Now that she knew, you could send her away with a good reason; that your emotions were not up to par, that she didn’t deserve this.
But your heart ached with love. And you wanted her so desperately, in every way. Even when you were numb, Lou was a sweet, calming reminder of everything you needed to go after when things got dark.
And you nodded, promising something you never thought you had the strength to do. To be open with someone. Lou smiled, kissed your cheek, and pulled you even tighter. Your full belly and exhausted tears easily sent you into a deep sleep, with her rubbing your back and keeping you warm.
A/N: brb crying
@ the anon who asked for this i hope everything is going alright in your life, i hope this helps, i hope you will find ways to help yourself and realize how worthy you are to enjoy this wonderful thing called fuckin’ LIFE <3 (and that goes for alllll of you who are reading this too okay)
#lou miller#lou x reader#lou x you#lou#ocean's eight#oceans 8#ocean's 8#cate blanchett#cate blanchett x reader#lou miller x reader#reader insert#merry writes#wlw
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[3:38 a.m.]
pairing: san x seosang
top: san
bottom: yeosang
genre: smut
words: 1463
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yeosang mumbled to himself while staring at his computer screen. he took a quick sip of his cappuccino and shook his head.
"nope. it doesn't sound genuine enough," he sighed in disbelief and tapped the backspace key a few times to clear out the words he had typed.
waking up at three in the morning with a house full of seven crack heads is the worst decision yeosang has ever made. he would sit in his room writing a fanfic about two male kpop idols being a couple. he wouldn't talk about it to anyone. not even to wooyoung, his roommate.
the blonde yawned out of boredom and being tired and lightly scratched his cheek. looked at the time on the corner of his computer screen.
"three thirty-eight... and i still haven't posted anything in my writing account for a month, except for silly life updates," yeosang complained then closed his laptop and set it under his bed.
"i'm going to grab something to eat really quick. i'm hungry. maybe get another cup of cappuccino while i'm at it."
he quietly left the room and tip-toed to the kitchen. once yeosang made it there, he opened the cabinet of snacks and grabbed his two packs of dried, sea salted seaweed. he opened the other cabinet that was filled with coffee mugs of all kind. some being LGBT and BT21.
yeosang grabbed the shooky mug and set it on the kitchen counter. he opened the bin of coffee beans and poured a cup into the coffee machine, thankful that it wasn't empty. seonghwa and mingi went out grocery shopping recently and hongjoong, san, and wooyoung restocked everything after their necessary walmart run.
while turning on the grinding button, he heard soft taps from the hallway. a tired groaned followed by it.
"sangie," a voice groaned, sounding a little annoyed from the coffee machine being on, "we can't have coffee until six. what are you doing up at this time?"
yeosang looked over his shoulder to san. san was his best friend for five years and his lover for six months. the two met in high school months before graduation and college orientation. san was never the one to make fun of yeosang, unless he's done something weird or being effortlessly funny towards the roommates, and he can let someone be themselves.
he cleared his throat and added water to the boiling water kettle, making a cup for himself.
"i can't sleep. once i'm up, i have to do something like making coffee," the blonde simply answered, cautiously pouring water into the grinded coffee and mixing it with a spoon.
"it's been like for years. i tried counting sheep, but i am an adult. none of that crap works unless it's booze."
san let out a quiet chuckle and took a seat at the kitchen counter.
"well, you have me. you could've just asked for some cuddles. we all know you don't drink. you're a light weight for fuck sakes," he reminded.
"you never had a drink before. not even a fake daiquiri."
"and i don't plan to any time soon. i will forever be an uber to all of you drinkers, including jongho," the older added then stretched and rolled his shoulders while the coffee was brewing into the coffee jar.
"ouch. that hurts my feelings, sangie," san teased, getting up from the stool and walking over to the male. he circled his arms on yeosang's waist and swayed him to side to side, smiling fondly.
a deep red blush covered yeosang's face. he could feel one of san's hands going under his shirt, and his thumb gently pressed against yeosang's nipple, which caused him to let out a soft gasp and closed his eyes.
"s-san, baby, what're you — w-we can't. not right n-now," he whispered helplessly while san placed soft kisses on his neck and shoulder.
"please, yeosang. it's been weeks that we've done it. you've been avoiding me for too long, baby," the other whispered back.
the black and red haired male turned off the coffee machine and pressed his body against yeosang, his chest touching his back as his other hand pulled yeosang's pink lace panties down to his lower thighs. san scooped him up and took him to his bedroom, his foot pushing the door closed once they were in.
the two began making out passionately. yeosang's back against the wall while san held his wrists pin above his head with hand. yeosang moaned when felt precum dripping out of his tip.
"sannie, please, please," he whispered through the kiss as san pulled away to take yeosang's shirt off and cover his chest with hickeys and bites.
"come on, bunny. speak to me. what do you want me to do?"
yeosang felt chills going down on his back from the pet name. he has always been san's bunny. he was hardly a brat in the bed, unless he was impatient with the teasing.
"touch me, please. i need you inside me, san," he begged, rolling his hips against his boyfriend's.
"can i ride you, please? i've been good all day."
san groaned softly from the friction and nodded his head as his reply. how could he say no to an idea like that? what yeosang wants is what yeosang gets.
the couple pulled away and lied down on the bed. yeosang hurriedly took off san's sweatpants and boxers and handed him the condom. he stood on his patiently while san tore the package with his teeth and carefully slipped on the condom.
"are you prepped, bunny," he asked while yeosang sat on his lap and placed his hands on san's chest, straddling him.
"yes, i am. only for you, san."
"good job, bun. you're going to take my cock so well. you won't be walking for a week," san praised, making yeosang bite on his bottom at the idea.
yeosang positioned his hole to san's big cock and slowly slid down, letting out a broken moan. his nails dug onto san's skin while adjusting to his size. san held his waist and groaned at the friction.
maybe san was right. no. he was definitely. yeosang has been avoiding his and san's sexual needs for too long. all the working and errand runnings have took up so much of their time. they'll have to make it up by this and possibly going to breakfast and dinner.
"so tight ~ start moving, babe ~"
and yeosang did what he was told. he rode and bounced on san's cock like there was no tomorrow. the cal king size mattress squeaked, and head board thud against the wall over and over.
the two men were a hot mess. both of their sweaty bodies grinding up against each other, slobbily kissing and leaving marks on their skin that wouldn't leave in a day or two. san flipped yeosang and thrusted deeper inside him. his cock going in and out of yeosang's turning him on more and more till san hit yeosang's prostate.
"right there! right there, san! oh fuck~ 'm cumming," yeosang screamed in pure bliss, close to his orgasm.
a knot form inside san's stomach, and his thrusts became sloppy after giving yeosang permission. he came on his chest and stomach, tears staining the bed sheets. he spasm and panted softly. san pulled out and came into the condom.
"fuck... that was so great, honey. you did so well. let's get cleaned up before hyung catches us."
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san and yeosang slept in that morning, cuddling under the sheets and wearing new pajamas. the sun's ray seeped through the curtains. yeosang groggily opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep off his eyes. his brown orbs stared at san, who was peacefully asleep and had his arms on his waist.
"such a cutie," he whispered and heard a knock on the door.
yeosang slipped out of san's arms and stretched and cracked his knuckles. he walked to the door and opened it just to see jongho with a smug smirk.
"you forgot these panties, hyung," the youngest teased, holding the evidence in a plastic bag.
"i don't know if you know, but i'll say once for you horn dogs. these walls can talk. we heard every little thing."
yeosang blushed in embarrassment and sucked in his teeth. he grabbed his panties and closed the door. he rolled his eyes and turned to see san waking up and getting out of the bed.
"was that jongho? that little shit," san mumbled and sighed.
"where should we go for breakfast, bunny? it's on me today. "
"it doesn't matter. i just wanna spend time with you this week and next. forever actually."
#kpop writers#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez sansang#kpop#kpop fanfic#ateez fic#ateez ships#8 makes 1 team#stream for clear skin#bxb#mxm romance#gay smut#ateez smut
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Closer Than We Seem
kyoutani kentarou x f!reader
genre: slight angst, fluff, comfort, romance, mutual pining
warnings: cursing, implied past physical abuse, mentions of physical/verbal harassment
synopsis: college!kyoutani demanded to know the source of the obnoxious arguing that kept him awake throughout the night. The thin walls barely filtered out the yelling and he had a 7:00 a.m. class in the morning. Venturing out to immediately put an end to it, kyou stumbles upon a person with a past that changes both their lives- and romance ensues.
a.n: 5.0k words of some kyoutani content! enjoy!
He was sick of it.
Amber eyes, bloodshot around the edges, shifted to glance at the digital clock seated on the nightstand. The dark plastic is well worn as the illuminated screen is covered in cracks. Undoubtedly, the piece of technology was victim to his annoyed clobbering whenever the alarm went off.
Smothering a plush pillow over his ears, the blonde fervently attempts to block the commotion. His fingers press tightly against the only source of comfort that keeps his sanity at bay. A raised vein etched across his jawline as his teeth grind together and he forces out a grunt.
2:25
“It’s been two damn hours.”
Kyoutani’s gravelly voice is barely heard over the yelling in the next room. Disgruntled, he removes the pillow from his face and tosses it beside him with a roll of his eyes. The part-time college student is openly miffed by the lack of peaceful sleep he could be getting. He, quite honestly, didn’t appreciate showing up to morning classes with eye-bags as dark as the eyeliner that he meticulously lined his eyes with. Over the past four months, adequate rest is a miracle for him to discover each day.
“And they’re still arguing,” Kyoutani rambles on while using the bottom of his hand to hammer the pillow onto the mattress, “who the fuck argues that long?”
Scrunching his thin eyebrows, he tries to comprehend the mere logic behind quarrelling in the middle of the night, especially on a school night. By all means, Kyoutani isn’t a saint amongst sinners but in a couple hours the blond has a chemistry quiz, a subject he’s gloriously failing, and sleep was needed.
Another frustrated shout rips through the popcorn textured walls which doesn’t muffle the noise due to the poor insulation covering. The voice is distinctly a male’s and it takes all of Kyoutani’s willpower not to roar back to assert his dominance. Instead, his fingertips rake through his cropped hair while letting out a grumble.
His eyelids feel like weights are strapped to them, progressively drooping shut, as his vision becomes blurry. A rare silence drifts through his cramped dorm room. The place resembles a battle zone with clothes tossed to the bed, papers scattered over the desk, and empty protein bar wrappers cascaded on the floor. Yet, Kyoutani adored the small freedom he finally had at the university dorms.
The silence lulls him to close his bloodshot eyes, a deep exhale flares out his pointed nose, and a relief floods through him. He might actually get some rest for once.
“Get out!”
At the obnoxious yell from the neighboring room, the blond is far too annoyed to logically comprehend his actions before his bruised knuckles are knocking at the wall. The numbness of rapping at the wall is barely registered over how livid Kyoutani is at the intrusion to his sleep.
“Shut up!”
He throws in the bellow for good measure and stops his onslaught of assault on the wall. It seems awkward scolding the wall and his hand slowly drops to his lap. His sharp eyes track the movement of his fingers, dimly noting that he needs to trim the cracked edges. Perhaps his unpolished fingertips are the reason for his missed spikes on the volleyball court lately.
A solid thump resonates back to him, to which Kyoutani dumbly blinks at. Hairs at the back of his neck stand and he can literally feel the heat leave his ears as his blood boils. The college student’s temper has simmered down since high school but hearing the other person’s unperturbed knock ticked him off. It was almost like they were taunting him.
“Oh that’s it,” he mumbles and kicks away the blanket that interlaced his figure.
Stretching across the small room, his legs move on its own accord and he reaches to twist the knob of the door. Using the expanse of his muscular shoulder, he pushes the wooden structure open in hopes of confronting the rowdy student that resided next to his dorm room.
Permanent frown plastered on his pale lips, the blond urges to dramatize the expression. He crosses his arms after knocking on the neighboring door and the action displays his athletic build as a result of years of sports. The irate appearance was perfected as a scare tactic that he used to his advantage in varying situations. Petrifying the student next door wasn’t excluded out of the list.
“Could you shut your mouth? You’re being too damn loud, man--”
Kyoutani allowed himself to commit a double take before hastily shutting his own mouth, only for it to part as a sharp inhale almost made him sputter. His onslaught of vulgarity, a script he’d previously rehearsed plenty of times, fell lost on his tongue as he eyes the female in front of him.
You’re unfairly pretty.
It pains him that the first thought that races within his mind is a compliment when your mascara is smudged at the edges. Your frizzy hair is at a disarray, strands sticking up even when it’s pulled into a ponytail. The hoodie that you’re wearing is far too large as the end hits above your midthigh and his thoughts short circuit when he drags his gaze upward to see that you’re already giving him a sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” your voice pitches higher at the sudden appearance of the male, “were we being too loud?”
“N-no? I mean yes,” Kyoutani sputters the first words and finishes his reasoning with a pathetic remark, “chemistry.”
Your face lights up, visibly amused with his lack of speech at the moment while understandingly nodding, “you have a chemistry test?”
“Yeah.”
“And you need to get some sleep before it?”
“Yeah.”
His responses are pitiful- even he knew- but there was only so much he could verbally say when focusing on the way your lips curved up when smiling. Plus, perhaps he was delusional with the lack of sleep, but your curiosity seemed to dip to his lean physique.
“I’m so sorry,” your eyes follow the blond’s movement of leaning against the doorframe, “we’ll try to keep it down so you can get some rest.”
His brain disconnects with the small ounce of logic he carries when your sleeve sweeps across your nose to sniffle and he recognizes the dried tears that stain your face. Kyoutani isn't the best at handling emotions or being touchy-feely but he’s not ignorant.
“You good?” He asks while cautiously taking a step forward.
His defensive instincts, honed by years of avoiding other people, raise at the wary glint in your eyes. The blond’s inquisition is answered with a meek nod of your head and your nose scrunches to halt your sobs. Upon closer inspection, the sleeves on your hoodie is drenched in what he infers are tears.
Your feet remain rooted to the ground, neither welcoming him or pushing his intrusiveness away. He’s aware of the slight shake of your body and his golden eyes widen at how unnerved you were behaving.
“My bad,” Kyoutani falters as his own doubts consume him, “I didn’t mean to make you cry-”
“Who’s at the door, (Y/n)?”
The new voice, startling you with the sudden shout, comes from within the room. Distinctly, it’s the same tone that was hollering while Kyoutani was trying to sleep. The blond’s keen on how you were shifting your weight to each foot and the fidgeting only increased when footsteps resounded on the creaking floorboards.
“Oh,” you squeak as your evasive gaze connects with his, “my dorm room neighbor.”
Pulling your hands away from your face, a naive expression is plastered on when a male comes up behind you. The stranger is shorter and less lean than Kyoutani is. Yet, when the male captures your stare, you’re reeling back by fiddling with your fingers behind your back.
The unpleasant male, brunet but his darker roots were peeking out, regards Kyoutani with a sniff, “can we help you?”
Something about the male irked the blond and a frown tugs at his lips. He predicted that the guy was your boyfriend or had some type of connection with you. Being in university led to freedoms such as relationships. Although Kyoutani was a stranger to such involvement, he knew the attachment or void others were attempting to fill during these years.
“Yeah, you can,” the blond responds with a miffed scowl, “noise complaint.”
There’s an uncomfortable silence when the brunet eyes Kyoutani with an agitated glower. It’s painstakingly silent. He’s surely showcasing his superiority within the uneasy situation. Though, the volleyball player is grateful for his decision of wearing a tattered, sleeveless shirt because the other male loosened into an apprehensive gaze.
“She wasn’t listening to me, so,” the other male jut a thumb towards you and shrugs his shoulders, “sorry, dude.”
Raising a sharp brow, Kyoutani’s expression is dubious when noting how the blame is placed on you when the other male was clearly the only one hollering beforehand. It clicks that the uneasy flickering within your eyes is due to the other male and disgust engulfs him.
His fist clenches, displeasure rolling off of him in waves before speaking up, “I’m pretty sure I just heard your loudass screeching. Just keep it down.”
The brunet clams up at the jest, forehead wrinkling just enough to cause worry that lines would permanently stay there. Kyoutani watches the way the other male’s jaw tightens before he’s storming off. The blond regards the other’s lack of positivity with a roll of his eyes and mutters an insult under his breath.
A whisper, faint but lingering in the silent air, leaves your lips, “thanks.”
“Nah,” his amber eyes flicker to yours, “don’t need to thank me. ‘Ts about time someone put him in his place.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I could,” Kyoutani pauses to toe at the floorboards and the cheap tile chips at the touch, “if you’d let me.”
The words tumble out of his mouth before it can be filtered and the result has him reeling back. His cheeks are warm, probably matching with his reddened ears. The invitation is annoyingly corny and the staleness makes him want to hurl.
“Sounds like a deal.”
Your response has his attention locked onto you again and he’s internally thankful that he’s not the only one embarrassed by his impromptu. Thumbing at the sleeves of your sweater, a lopsided grin etches across your face and the blond freezes up. His mind is functioning as quickly as a bullet train but his expression only stares back at you with a stupidly blank look.
Your giggle snaps him out of his stupor before putting him into a daze over how charming the noise sounds. An entertained peek casts over him as you tuck your hair away from your face.
“I guess I’ll see you around-”
“Kentarou,” he discloses with a respectful yet hurried bow of his head, “Kyoutani Kentarou.”
“(Y/n)(L/n). Call me (Y/n),” you mention before begrudgingly edging the door closed, “and good luck on your chemistry test, Kentarou.”
The next day, it irritates him that he can only conjure up an image of your smile when he should be solving for Planck’s constant.
-
“Whatcha doing there?”
Keys dangling in his grasp, he halts at the front of his dorm room door. It’s unwelcomely cold today and the brisk wind has his fingers alike to popsicles. The blond’s tried to fight off the chill with his customary varsity jacket and black beanie. Ideally he didn’t toss on the hat because he couldn’t bother with styling his hair- of course not.
You’re situated on the floor with your knees pulled up to your chest while balancing a notebook atop of your makeshift desk. The lined paper has quick notes jotted down, highlighted words, and doodled diagrams that Kyoutani is able to discreetly peer at. A twinge of satisfaction tugs at him when your study habits are exactly what he’d picture they would be.
“Studying,” your eyes never leave your paper as you respond to him.
Uncapping a pastel highlighter, you exaggerate the action by underlining a phrase written in your notebook and raising a brow at him. The incredulous look on your face only comes off as sarcastic as Kyoutani rolls his dark eyes at your mockery. A grin curls on your lips while raising your shoe to nudge the side of his boot. He’s recognized each one of quirks, including your friendly banter.
“No shit Sherlock,” the blond pulls his hand away from the door and tucks the keys into his pocket, “coulda sworn you were sleeping.”
Crouching on par with you, he extends a finger to poke at your cheek and indicates the dark bags underneath your eyes. It’s lighthearted payback for the attitude he received just a second ago yet there’s a concerned glint in his stare. The darkness that surrounds your eyes is apparent even with the dab of concealer you managed to slap on in the morning and an embarrassed hand covers half of your face.
“Kyou!”
The threat isn’t laced with malice but the jab at his shoulder sure proves that humiliation is a strong consequence of emotion. He lets out a groan while gingerly rubbing the ache that emits from the bundle of muscle you punched.
Childishly sticking out your tongue at his dramatics, you declare, “that’s what you get.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He pauses and then recognizes that the position you’re in is one that seemed too familiar. Your gaze flutters back to the flimsy notebook, aware of how perceptive Kyoutani was when it involved the wellbeing of yours.
Inviting the blond to warm up to you was certainly a gradual process but you did not regret it. Shy smiles transformed into late night talks over the phone. The two of you had a special yet uncharted compassion for each other that had bloomed over the last two months.
“What,” the words taste like venom in his mouth and he desperately wants to spit it out, “he locked you out again?”
You feign interest in your notes, physiology facts are sprawled onto the margins, while avoiding Kyoutani’s heated gaze. His hand balls into a fist, dull fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. He knows that you won’t answer the seemingly obvious question even when you’re slumped on the floor in a feeble heap and it tugs at his heart.
Unfortunately, when Kyoutani faces displeasure he’s only adept to outwardly show his emotions. Ever since he was born, it was a rule to allow oneself to be impassioned about hobbies, beliefs, and avocations. The blond applied the rule to showcasing his appreciation to the people he deemed as special, as per usual. Except, he didn’t have the best grasp on handling his intense emotions.
“He’s always treating you like shit,” the next part comes out like a scoff that rages within him, “and you’re always falling for it.”
The weight of the words felt like a blow to your face, leaving a stinging sensation that resonated within you. The confrontation shook you to the core. Not once has the male ever blamed you for your boyfriend’s inconsideration.
Kyoutani’s chapped lips form around the syllables of the offense and he automatically knows that he just messed up. Curses sling together within his mind as he pitifully watches your reaction. A silent wince morphs upon your delicate face. You’re recoiling away from him, shrinking yourself into the crevice of the wall. His fingertips reach for you, the action is subconscious, and the next words spill out of his mouth like an off brand remedy.
“Listen, (Y/n), I didn’t mean it like that-”
“No,” you speak up with newfound acrimony, “that’s exactly what you meant.”
Lifting your head up, your narrowed eyes connect with Kyoutani’s wide ones. A part of you desperately wishes to become agitated with the blond. Envy grips a hold of you at the thought that he’s able to live his life freely without the burden of an overbearing significant other. By all means, he had all the attributes to attest your relationship- or lack thereof.
Your furrowed expression mellows.
Yet, his comment awakens a self reflection that you’ve casted away to maintain some dignity. Your boyfriend’s attitude toward you equated to virtually nothing. Countless nights of arguing, getting locked out, and being pushed aside were bouts of normalcy to you. It was your responsibility to get the respect that you deserved. Cutting out toxicity, even if the future frightened you, was an initial step.
The golden hue outlining Kyoutani’s eyes, intense in many cases, recast into a softened stare. He’s mindful of the gears shifting in your head and the tremble of your bottom lip settles it. Unknowingly, you just received a life changing message with his chiding. The doors of independence and freedom swing open. An exhale passes through your lips.
Crouching closer to you, the blond compels your attention with a tilt of his head, “sorry.”
The apology is gruff, likely the result of his avoidance toward wrongdoings, but the intent is clearly there. Chewing on his bottom lip, he gestures toward your fragile stance with a shifty gaze. Your cowering behavior scared him immensely. It wasn’t often someone else was willing to interact with his loner self. He can’t mess this up even when his pride is screaming at him to bicker.
“It’s not your fault,” you shake your head in reassurance, “I know that it’s mine.”
Unintentionally, your demeanor frees open with his genuine apology and you can’t help but be soothed at the gentle prod in his scrutiny. He appreciates that you’re able to acknowledge his opposition because the male wasn’t planning on taking his comment back. The truth may hurt but it’ll ultimately improve your mentality in the long run.
Perching on the heels of his feet, he repositions himself to improve comfort. His arms are draped over his knees and the jacket bunches at the ends due to his movement. The blond is close, alarmingly near your face, and an aromatic whiff of dry cedar invades your senses.
“You’re just,” his confession smoothly slips out, “too good for him.”
The side of his face rests against his forearm while he awaits your response. He’s content when your eyes light up, gleaming in reverence, at his blunt compliment. Lips tugging upward, your lopsided grin is all he has to witness as he hops to his feet. His palm pats at the faded denim of his jeans before offering his free hand to you.
“C’mon,” he easily pulls you to your feet in a quick motion, “you can hangout in my dorm room, I guess.”
“What do you mean, ‘you guess’?”
Kyoutani catches your teasing eye roll while organizing your school materials that are cluttered on the floor. He’s nimble, stacking your books into a pile and swinging your backpack over his wiry shoulder.
“I mean, let���s go.”
With the grace of a dancer, the blond balances the items while fetching his keys and unlocking the door. He nudges it open and steps aside to let you enter first. Certainly the male must’ve picked up the chivalrous acts in a sappy movie or television show because your heart thumps against your chest. It’s absurd in reality. A person helping another is ordinariness yet you feel like you’re flying when he looks at you expectantly.
“Thank you,” the gratitude is a whisper as you tug your sweater tighter to your body and eagerly slide past him.
“Don’t mention it.”
The room is comfortably warm, easing away the shivers that racked throughout you while seated in the middle of the dorm hallway. Its surprisingly tidy, which also comes across as a shock to Kyoutani because the scrunch of his nose indicates that he’s accustomed to a messy room. However, upon closer inspection, you note that the blond is the one readily cleaning because he scoots aside a stray snack bag with his elbow. An embarrassed pout conforms to his face when he hears your amused giggle.
Gently placing your stuff on the desk, he notices your awkward stance in the middle of the room and gestures to either his bed or desk chair. You respectfully, minus the internal debate you had, settle on the chair and only then does Kyoutani move over to lounge on his bed. It’s eerily silent despite how comfortable you both are with each other.
Indefinitely, he flops onto the mattress, much like a child would, and folds his hands behind his head to stare up at the popcorn ceiling. A couple months beforehand he would’ve despised being locked up in his dorm room without having anything to do. Now, however, his nerves were bouncing off the walls.
Peering over to your rigid position, he takes your fiddling fingers and shy demeanor with scrutiny. Not once in his life did he think he’d actually invite a person into his sacred place. Yet, when his gaze locks with yours and you return a coy smile- he’s praying that this won’t be the last time.
“So, I only let you in because I don’t get this chemistry problem-”
“Kyou!”
-
Treading backward, a sense of urgency rushes through you as you narrowly avoid the aggressive hands. It’s bewildering that he’s willing to physically confront you in public. The dorm hallway was bound to have university students frequent the place and prying eyes were not on your current wishlist.
“What are you doing? I told you that we’re over!”
The incredulous question goes over his head as he refuses to outrightly answer or perhaps he just didn’t wish to. Before this incident, you attempted to just force in a power nap before your next class that was situated across campus. Your ex boyfriend, however, had other plans as he lingered by your dorm room while you were unaware of the unwanted surprise.
The unruly male is clearly tipsy and his wandering hands are not in your favor as he lunges for you once more. Thankfully, you sidestep away while your shoulder bumps against the wooden frame of a door. Your blood turns to ice.
“Come here and give me a kiss, babe,” your ex boyfriend garbles.
The stench of alcohol overwhelms your sobriety and a part of you yearns for the familiar scent of dry cedar musk. You longed for the latter of the aromas to engulf you in a reassuring embrace but grabby hands motioned for you again. A slight tug at your cardigan fuels the hatred that ignites within you. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, inwardly loathing how you managed to date such a pathetic excuse of a person.
Your hands defensively jab at your ex boyfriend’s chest, “get away from me!”
“Bitch!”
The sudden force propels him backward, giving you an inch of breathing room, before he’s barreling towards you again. His furrowed brows and snarl illustrate that you’ve unlocked danger. Sweat trickled down your temples, gathering at your hairline and your tongue sweeps across your chapped lips. The thrashing of your heart is the only sensation you’re aware of at the moment. Eyes fixated on his response, you don’t dare to blink. Your ex boyfriend raises a hand, a sign you’ve been introduced to before, and you instinctively flinch at the action.
A lean figure abruptly steps in front of you to provide protection from the physical onslaught. Dry cedar breaches your uneven inhales but you’re holding onto that scent like it was a lifeline. He was your salvation.
Landing a hit on Kyoutani’s sturdy chest, your ex boyfriend promptly pulls away with a confused glance, “get outta the way, man-”
“Didn’t you hear her,” the blond barks out and shoves him, “get the fuck away.”
Waves of animosity radiate off of Kyoutani, a scene that you’ve never witnessed in your encounters with him. He’s absolutely livid. His teeth gnash together while his hands are clenched at his sides. The veins on his brow protrude as a result of his creased forehead. Kyoutani’s damp in perspiration from his hurried movement, a deduction you’ve assumed.
The male is clad in exercise attire, probably coming back from a run, and his dri fit shirt conforms to his physique. His pullover and snug joggers were clear indicators that Kyoutani was in excellent physical shape, causing a wary stare from your ex boyfriend.
If the muscles rippling off of Kyoutani’s body isn’t a fright factor then his black, rimmed eyes are intimidatingly adequate. Yet, your ex boyfriend has intelligence compared to a newborn so he still lurches forward to attack Kyoutani. The blond dodges, grasps your ex boyfriend’s wrist, and twists it behind the other’s back. His defensive response is swift- almost alarmingly so that you wonder if Kyoutani ever brawled before.
“Seriously, cut the shit,” the blond warns, “leave (Y/n) alone.”
When your ex boyfriend utters a curse embedded within your name, the blond pulls the seized wrist tighter and a sickening crack echoes. Your hand flies up to your lips. Yowling in pain, your ex boyfriend’s mouth instinctively shuts to avoid further punishment.
“‘Ts alright,” Kyoutani rolls his eyes at the other’s dramatic behavior, “I didn’t break it. Yet.”
Your ex boyfriend’s eyes widen, irises dilated at the gruesome image conjured up in his mind, and pitifully begs, “I-I’ll leave you alone! Please. I’ll do anything! Jesus Christ, (Y/n), who is this guy?”
Turning his cheek, your ex-boyfriend gets a glimpse of Kyoutani’s face and the recognition dawns on him. He’s seen the aggressive blond before. Months ago, when your ex boyfriend was hollering at your lack of intimacy and the other’s lined eyes glared at him to surrender. One side of the blond’s lips raise, a snarky smirk directed towards the other male. Triumphant reigns within Kyoutani.
“Her new boyfriend.”
Raising a freshly cut eyebrow, Kyoutani incites a victorious expression as your ex boyfriend’s eyes are downcast at the message. The blond sneers. A sense of satisfaction, you suppose that’s the rare emotion, floods within you at your offender’s misfortune. You toss Kyoutani a grateful smile and he’s left faltering. He blinks- once, twice, three times- before regaining his intimidating demeanor.
“Get the fuck outta here,” Kyoutani shoves the other male forward when acknowledging the lack of resistance, “or I swear I’ll invert your ribcage.”
Your ex boyfriend doesn’t need to be reminded, sprinting off with his tail tucked between his legs and stumbling on his uncoordinated strides. You and Kyoutani regard the pathetic male with a deplorable frown. Then, the blond is tugging you close while burying his face into the crook of your neck. You don’t mind the sweat that gathers onto him and instead delve into comfort. A giggle resounds to reach him and he lets in a shaky inhale. He was indebted to the pure luck of running back to you. The thought of you getting injured or reliving the trauma you’ve initially faced was heartbreaking.
“Kyou,” your nickname to him was like a secret prayer you voiced, “I love you.”
He’s steadfast, a physique of strength and warmth, giving you a perfect invitation to cling onto. Respect, loyalty, and adoration were qualities that you didn’t have to force out of him. Violence, in any form, were taboos that he never crossed. The blond is undoubtedly the beginning of your journey towards self-love.
“I love you too.”
The genuine moment lingers on when your teasing nature resumes upon hearing Kyoutani’s forthright confession. Your hand comes up to trace his jawline, collecting perspiration that hasn’t dried up quite yet. He’s still cradling you, fingers protectively pressed against your waist. The sentiment is seldom, yet welcomed, and Kyoutani’s drawing you closer. He’s earnest. Scrunching up your nose, you jokingly flick at his forehead and he’s grumbling at your childishness.
“You didn’t tell me you’d gone out running,” you motion toward his frazzled state.
“Phone died.”
He fishes out his phone from his back pocket. Sure enough, your reflection is illuminated on the dark screen and you nod in acknowledgement. Your head dips to lay on the junction of Kyoutani’s chest. Allowing yourself to get swept up in his embrace is habitual, the addiction smothering an unmistakable itch inside you.
He’s silent before remarking, “I got us takeout though.”
Golden eyes don’t miss your gleaming ones and you’re beaming at the mention of food. Raising your head, the narrow stare he’s given causes him to motion to the forgotten bag that’s placed on the floor. Boxed cuisine was cast aside when Kyoutani saw the trouble you were caught up in.
“What’d you get?”
“Pizza,” he pauses, “and mozzarella sticks since you liked that stuff.”
“You’re the best.”
Lifting on your tiptoes, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek and you emit a carefree giggle. His ears burn crimson yet the presumptuous grin on his face brings butterflies in your stomach. Fingers pressing into the sides of your cheeks, he responds with a chaste, insistent kiss on your lips and hums in covert satisfaction.
It’s dizzying. Your mind is flooded with images of Kyoutani- his appeal in usual clothing, each line of muscle on his physique, and the carnal desire that swirls in his gaze when he pulls away. Your knees are putty as you’re rooted to your spot. The observant fixation is all you need to recognize when he’s aware of his effect on you and he raises a smug brow.
“Your room or mine?”
His question is in the form of a drawl, mostly uttered to raise impatience, but it only adds to the adoration you have for him. Your rooms are, quite literally, twenty feet apart.
Taking a step forward, the blond grasps the large takeout bag while slipping your hand into his free one. His thumb drags across your skin and you’re shivering at his tenderness. Kyoutani proudly rakes his gaze over you, openly compliant and completely in love, before slowly chuckling.
“Not that it matters, I guess.”
#kyoutani kentarou#kyoutani x y/n#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu fluff#college!kyou#kyoutani x reader#aoba johsai#mad dog
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Goodnight, My Love
SUMMARY; for @abadamn . A late birthday present for an incredible friend. ❤️
WRESTLER; Jon Moxley
WARNINGS; sexual content, rough, dominant
REQUESTED BY; none
BETA’D BY; @hungmanhorsecarriage
CO-WRITTEN BY; none
WORD COUNT; 1,342
GIF CREDIT; unknown
*All GIF credits to the rightful creators. If they are not tagged it was because I wasn’t sure who it was. If it is yours or you know the creator please let me know. I would be happy to tag them as credit or replace the gif.*
Moxley chucked as his teeth grazed across her neck.
“Are you ready for me princess?”
She shuttered, reliving their night together as she stared at the phone in her hands.
‘Room 275. I’ll be waiting.’
Her mouth dried as moisture pooled between her thighs. She couldn’t help but look around the lobby. If someone saw her… figured out what they were doing, it would ruin everything. It wasn’t like it was bad, it was just… private.
‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘private is the perfect was to describe it.’
Not that they didn’t want to tell the public, but they liked the privacy; the ‘forbidden’ meetings.
Even now, as she stepped into the waiting elevator, she shivered in pure anticipation; her tongue swiping across her top lip.
Jon paced the floor of his suite; leather belt in hand. You could feel the aggression rolling off, eyes dark as he thought about the encounter in the ring. His title around the other man’s waist.
His. Not Kenny’s.
And now, he was seeing black. The only thing on his mind turning her pretty skin red. She could take it. She’d told him she could.
“I can handle it, Mox. Give it all to me.”
Even now, he could hear the breathlessness in her voice; could see her pretty eyes blown out in lust. His fist clenched as he remembered the way she’d cried out in ecstasy, even begged him for more. He could almost feel her nails raking down his shoulders; going as far to shake at the ghost-like feeling.
Y/N took a deep breath as she reached the room door. She wasn’t nervous, quite the opposite. If she didn’t take a second now she’d ruin it all; cum before he even touched her. After a few seconds, she raised her fist and rapped twice, as instructed.
“Sir?” SHe called gently, clearing her throat as she kept her eyes on the floor.
The door in front of her suddenly flew open as Moxley appeared before her. A small smirk graced his lips as his eyes knowingly fell over her figure.
“Did anyone see you, kitten?” His free hand darted out to lift her chin, their eyes burning into each other.
“Not that I know of, sir. I was careful.”
“I hope so.” He chuckled gently as he pulled her into the room, the door shutting with a ‘tick’ behind them.
She set her bag down quickly, just as his arms wound around her.
“You smell good.” He grumbled as he buried his nose against her neck. “Already wet for me, kitten?”
He nipped over her pulse point, causing her to suck in a breath.
“A-Alway, sir.”
Moxley moved quickly, stepping around in front of her. He settles himself in the arm chair, the belt laid over his thigh.
“Strip, kitten. Show off for Sir.”
Y/N whimpered as her hip began moving, a familiar melody filling her mind as her eyes stayed on him. Her shirt came up and off, following the beat in her head. Her hands effortlessly glided over her body; his eyes following their every move.
Dipping into the waist like of her jeans, she teases him with a look at the bare skin below them. Giggling at the growl he lets out, she allows her jeans to join her top on the floor.
“Behave, kitten.”
Her skin prickles at the warning in his voice, eyes falling to the belt in his hand. He’d never used it before but it was always close.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued. The black leather reflected in the soft light and she licked her lips.
His eyebrow knitted together as his eyes followed her path.
“Do you want this, kitten?”
His fingers instinctually tightened on the material, his jeans growing impossibly tighter.
It was always in arms reach when he was in this head space, yet he’d never even thought about raising it to her. However, now… a new heat filled his gut as he looked up at her.
“Bend over the bed, kitten. Grab fistfulls of the blanket.” He stood, towering over her easily. “You know your safe word?”
Y/N jumped gently and turned. “Yes, sir. Trampoline.”
She wiggled her hips as she bent over the bed, the soaked center of her panties now on display for him. “Though, I won’t need it, Sir.”
“Oh?” He snorted as he brought the smooth item down on her bare skin. “I should have known.”
He shook his head as she cried out at the sudden sting. Her back arched as her hands fisted the blankets. Her mouth fell open as her eyes widened in pleasure.
“A good little Kitten like you?” He brought it down again, this time on the other cheek. “Yeah, I should have known you’d like this.”
He watched as the skin began to darked, shades of red covering the area the belt met.
“Look so pretty all marked up, kitten. But it’s not enough.”
His mood changed. The aggression from earlier manifesting again as the belt continued to fall on her skin. Four more times, it happened, before he couldn’t take it anymore.
The belt fell to the ground as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them past his muscular thighs. Her head whipped around to watch him; eyes focusing on his cock; swollen and dripping. She couldn’t help the whimper that fell from her lips.
Moxley chuckled as he stroked himself, watching the way her moisture rolled down her thigh.
“Look at you, kitten.” He reached forward with his free hand, gathering the slickness onto his skin. “I’ve barely begun and you’re dripping for me.”
He let out a feral growl as he brought the soiled digit to his mouth and licked them clean.
“You taste fucking delicious.” His hands moved to the globes of her ass, spreading the skin so he can get a better look at her heat. “But that will have to wait.”
He doesn’t wait for her reaction as he buries his cock inside her. His fingertips dig into the skin, bruises forming under them.
“Fucking tight!” He gritted out, guiding her hips against his.
Y/N cried out as her head flew back. Her walls pulsed around him, stretching to accommodate his size.
“Please, sir!” Her voice came out like a cry, body shuttering as she struggled to keep up.
“Take it, kitten! Where’s my strong girl?” He gathered the belt in his left hand and licked his lips, entranced by the way her ass bounced as their hips met. “You’re mine!”
Y/N panted as she nodded, head resting against the mattress now.
“Yes, Sir! I’m yours. Only yours!”
She grit her teeth as she held her orgasm back, waiting to go together. Moxley reached to rub her clit, reveling in the way her tight cunt wrapped around him; as if it was always made to me his.
Her cries grew louder as his pace became ruthless. He possessed her with every inch he could, his chest coming to rest against her back. While his thrusts may have now slowed they were just as deep. Y/N shuttered and moaned with each impaling.
“F-Fill me, Mox. I want it all.”
His head fell back as pleasure shot through his body. Spurt after spurt if his cum filled her as her own orgasm took over. Their cries mingled, turning into Moans and heavy panting as the highs lessoned. Moxley rolled to the side, pulling her to his chest. He placed a soft kiss to her forehead and Y/N smiled.
Reaching for the blanket, she pulled it over them; she would just do a load of laundry when she woke. A soft snore filled her ears as she settled against him and she giggled. He always was quick to sleep after a rough night and she truly didn’t mind. Her hand raised to trace his jaw bone, a small smile on her face as she leant forward to kiss his cheek gently, a soft mumble falling from his lips.
“Goodnight, my love.”
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How To Clean Your Room When You Have ADHD
A huge problem for people with ADHD (or any neuro-divergent condition or physical disability really) is not knowing where to start. You have this big project in front of you and you have no idea what to do first.
This is a guide based on the years of practice I’ve had learning to clean my room even when my mental illness and chronic fatigue is trying to ruin my life (and failing.) These are the steps I take, what helps me best.
This guide is designed to give you a chance to make a large, effective change in your room that positively helps your mental health. You are not expected to be perfect, you are not expected to do everything if it’s outside of your limitations, just do your best (and don’t push yourself too much... but I never listen to that self-advice, oops.)
Most important step: eat breakfast and take your meds. Trust me when I say this will keep you going, both in the energy and focus departments.
Next, try to recruit a friend or family member to help. By help I mean asking them to keep you company and keep you on track. Talking them will help keep you going, and give you someone who can offer an idea or suggestion if your ADHD gets you stuck.
Calling a friend over the phone is a good substitute if you don’t have someone to be in the room with you today.
Music is a good alternative to keep you moving if that’s all that’s available but trust me when I say having another friend with you helps a lot.
Supplies:
Trash bags
Empty hampers
Ideally access to a nearby washing machine and dryer
Micro-fiber clothes
Long duster
Prep:
Open your curtains (ideally) for the vitamin D and focus. Or turn on a lamp with a light quality/intensity you find comfortable.
Strip your bed. Take pillows, blankets, sheets, and pillow cases off.
Washing sheets and pillow cases is mandatory because 1) it’s sooo so nice to go to bed at the end of the day and smell clean sheets, and 2) clean sheets are good for your skin, especially clean pillowcases if you have problems with acne.
Washing blankets, comforters, and duvet covers are optional. You should do it from time to time, but it’s not a priority like sheets and pillow cases. Some comforters and blankets can only be washed under specific conditions, or possibly only when absolutely necessary (because like, you stilled coffee or soda on it or your pet did something rude on your blankets.) Check wash requirements on the tags.
You can still probably ignore it unless you really want to. Again, this is about making a sizable change that positively affects you, not being perfect.
Put your sheets in the washing machine and put the rest of your bedding back on your bed and leave it there until you’re ready to put the sheet back on.
Next is laundry. Pick up every item of clothing off the floor or on nearby furniture. Every item. Even if you think, “I only wore this for a few hours the other day and there are no stains.” Wash them. 1) they smell like your floor, and that’s not a nice smell, and 2) trying to separate cleanish from definitely dirty is pretty demanding on mental focus spoons.
Just shove all those clothes in a hamper. It’s quicker that way. You’re going to wash them after your sheets.
Next clean up all the trash on your floor. Take a trash bag but don’t put in a trash can. You’re going to be dragging it with you while you work from section to section.
Food trash must go.
Packaging and plastic wrap must go.
Old school work can stay if you’re still taking the class or especially proud of that project, but otherwise just toss it. Find a folder or drawer for what’s left and store it away for now.
Start throwing trash on surfaces like desks, nightstands, dressers, and bookcases away.
Do not try to organize the inside of your drawers unless you’re planning to get really thorough. But that’s not today. Today you’re getting the basics done as efficiently as possible so you can feel better in your environment.
Take glasses, plates, mugs, and silverware into the kitchen.
Start working on cleaning up clutter on your desk and nightstand first. Next is dresser and bookcases.
Use the micro-fiber clothes to pick up dust as you go. It keeps it from piling up, does not brush dust into the air, and goes quick this way. Dust tv and/or computer screens.
Pick non trash or clothing items off the floor. Try to find a permanent spot to either store or display it. If you can’t, maybe find a box to put those items in and revisit this problem later.
By now your sheets should be washed. Throw them in the dryer and wash your blankets if you’re ambitious. If not, wash your clothes next.
Take a break and have a snack, drink some water, maybe have a caffeinated drink.
Look at your room and feel proud, but also a little overwhelmed because it’s not done yet, but it’s getting there. Don’t worry. You can do it, I believe in you.
Procrastinate getting back to work. That’s okay. You have an hour before your sheets are clean, now is a good break time. Set an alarm for when your sheets should be dried and do whatever you want.
Alarm goes off, break over.
Dust the corners and tops of your walls to get rid of cobwebs. Having a taller or sighted person if this task is out of your ability (like it is for me on the eyesight front).
One last check for any dust around your bed. Move drinks away from your bed, nightstand and nearby surfaces.
Sigh, feel tired, and go grab your clean, warm sheets. Move your clothes or blankets from the washer to the dryer.
Come back, push all the blankets onto your (mostly?) cleaned up floor. Put the flat sheet on.
Feel tired and collapse on the covered mattress for a moment. You’re doing so good, and you’re almost there.
Make the rest of your bed.
Be very proud of yourself because you got a fucking lot done and I am sooo so fucking proud of you dude.
Optional things you can after this step:
Fold and put away laundry. This is a little concentration heavy. Make sure your friend/family member is nearby to help you stay on task.
I highly recommend Marie Kondo’s folding method personally, saved me a lot of space in my dresser. Developing a set method for folding clothing makes it a lot easier to fold and put away in the future because your subconscious brain learns the motions and can practice them without you having to think too closely on it.
(She has several videos on YouTube, shorter than five minutes mostly, very visual with clear instructions, so it’s ADHD friendly, though not super blind friendly)
Now that your room looks a lot better, try putting those items that didn’t have a set place before. Your brain is probably seeing it like a whole new room and feeling refreshed.
That’s it, you’re definitely done now. Rest and relax.
Turn on your favorite music, start doing your favorite task if you have the spoons, take a nap if you don’t have the spoons. Feel proud of yourself because you did a good fucking job.
It’s like... midnight now, and I’ve been up for two days, (because my ADHD brain was too loud last night to let me sleep. Mood? Mood.) I’m maybe a little too tired to edit this coherently, but you know writing these guides and posting them with minimal editing is so very on brand for my original posts.
Goodnight guys, I am off to bed!
I hope this helps <3 please leave me a comment in the replies or tags because I love going back to see what you guys left on my posts (believe that that I absolutely do this to my How to Write a Blind/Visually Impaired Character guide any time it gets fresh activity.)
Good luck, take care, and goodnight <3
#adhd#actuallyadhd#neuro-divergent#mental health#mental illness#mental health tips#adhd tips#guide#but not of the writing kind#but still important
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someone to come home to | soldier!mitch rapp
word count; 9341
summary; mitch has spent his life looking for family, and finding one in the army, but now, he wants to settle down with you.
notes; this is just a super sweet fic, an idea I got while at work, my mind got to wandering and it came up with this.
warnings; reference to death, reference to gunshot wounds, reference to bombings, mentions of war, mentions of injury, that’s about it? I think we’re all good. minor references to PTSD.
With a relieved breath, Mitch flopped back down onto the mattress with his things dumped on, the other men seeing to have far more energy around him, and he was happy to sink into the bed that was already more padded than the one he’d been on for the last six months, his tour finally coming to a close as he let his mind wander to the even softer mattress that was waiting for him when he got home.
His deployment was finished, the set of tours he’d been given were over, a sign-up sheet for another batch still sitting in his pack, waiting for his answer on whether hew as re-enlisting, and he couldn’t even bring himself to think about that right now. His feet were aching from the boots on his feet, and he was still covered in dust and dried mud, some splotches of blood on his ripped clothing, patched up in the field, and Mitch had decided that if he didn’t see another green piece of clothing in his entire life, he would be perfectly happy with that.
He could hear everyone else shuffling around them, hear the bag dropped onto the bunk below his as the metal frame shook, and the leg hanging down over the edge was smacked roughly, eliciting a groan from him as the man below snickered to himself.
“Fuck you, Hurley.”
“Get your leg out of my space, and we won’t have a problem, will we?” He teased, and he hauled the limb up onto the mattress, the effort being far more than it should have been, and the room quietened down a little as those men around him began to filter out of the room, the volume dropping considerably as all their excitement was dragged away to the showers. They were freshening up and washing off, ready to spend the night at the nearest bar and strip club they could find, inevitably going to be dragging themselves through their debriefing meetings tomorrow and sleeping off a hangover on the train home.
Mitch didn’t have the luxury of sleeping on his ride home, because he was far too hopped up on the anticipation and anxiety of seeing you again. Six whole months had passed by, and four years since he’d met you, one fateful night at an army family charity ball, a pretty dress flowing right down to your feet, and you’d let him buy you a drink and tuck the flower from his suit pocket into your hair.
You were supposed to be just some fun for the night, but then you’d spent the entire night talking, and then he’d spent the entire rest of the week he was home with you by his side, and somehow, you had become his everything. It wasn’t just his unit going home, as far as he was aware, there were at least three other units all going home too, his being the last to arrive for the train that would be leaving tomorrow, and he was grateful to be the last, because he couldn't imagine having to wait a week for the others, being so close to you and yet still so far.
Mitch wasn’t interested in strip clubs and bars, he didn’t care about getting drunk or lap-dances, he just wanted to go home, and see you. He didn’t even want to unpack his bag, he was more than happy to simply lay there until he fell asleep, waiting for the morning to roll around.
“You aren’t going out with the rest?”
He tipped his head to the side, peeling his eyes open, unsure of when they’d even closed, a yawn pulled at his lips. Not even bothering to cover it, he simply shook his head, Stan leaning his arms on the edge of the upper-bunk bed, and Mitch propped himself up to look at his friend.
“Why not?”
“I have a girl waiting for me at home.” He mumbled, and Stan raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah, so do half of the other lads.”
“Maybe, but are half of the other lads about to propose?” He scoffed, toeing the pocket of his bag that was still sitting by the end of the bed, and Stan reached over, a handful of letters coming out and he opened the top one up, pulling out the piece of paper that was folded up inside, a few pages of a ring brochure torn out, some circled, before one had been clearly chosen, stamped letters from the official company to accompany the ones handwritten on dirty paper form Mitch. “I spent the last six months writing with a company back home, getting a ring sorted out. They had it delivered here, I’m going to go pick it up when I have my shower, it’s waiting at communal.”
“That’s great, kid. What’s she like?”
He grinned, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, and he was certain that Stan was going to regret asking the question, because the second he had opened his mouth, he couldn't stop the words. There was so much to say about you, about how much he loved you, and about how much you meant to him. You made him feel as though he had a purpose with you, he had joined the army because he had nothing, no family or parents, and so he’d found a family wherever he could get it. Ten years later, he was looking at the opportunity of making his own family with you, and so he certainly wasn’t going to risk it.
Stan was tough on him, he was the unofficial leader of the group, and while he was strict and mean, sometimes even a little bit of a bully, he was like the father Mitch had lost, taking him on and giving him someone to talk to when he really needed it, as well as someone to look up to. He knew Stan cared for him as much as he cared for Stan, and so he almost felt like he was seeking approval form him to be able to get married.
“I want you to meet her when we get back.”
“I’d love to, but only if you shower first. You stink, and I’m not going anywhere near you while you smell like a massacre in a gym.” Mitch’s face screwed up, lifting his shirt to his nose, the salty stench of sweat and the coppery smell of blood and ammunition filling his nose, and he backed away from the material, nodding in agreement.
“Fair enough.”
A hot shower would definitely help, he knew it to be true, and the call of hot steam and water was almost enough to make his head spin with joy, having been washing himself off with cold or lukewarm water for the past half a year, and so he shoved all the letters back into the front pocket. Rifling through for his cleanest set of clothes, he was taking them with him as he swiped his only towel, deciding it was still fresh enough, and he could wash properly when he got home, before groaning upon jumping down, his feet screaming out in disapproval at being in use once again.
The shower may be calling to him at this moment, but your face was flashing behind his eyes every time he closed them, calling him home to you.
The train ride had been only a few hours, and yet he’d felt like years, watching the scenery flash by as he moved from town to town before getting home. There was a ring in his bag that felt like it was going to burn right through the pocket, shining metal and a pretty diamond in the specifications he was sure were right, convinced he had remembered that the ring of his mother’s that he wore on his pinky was the same size you wore on your ring finger. The camo-gear felt too much, like it was too heavy now that he was no longer in a battlefield, the jacket stifling and the pants too baggy, the boots squeezing his feet and pinching angrily, the same way it always felt when he was finally allowing his guard to come down and to let himself relax, and he rested his head on the window, feeling the vibrations shooting through the cart as he
He was nervous to say the least, especially when he finally saw the station coming into view, the train beginning to slow down, and then the daylight was gone, encased by tunnels as darkness flashed by him for only as second, before artificial light took over. The men around him were waking one another up as they came about, and he rubbed over his face, trying to wake himself up a little more. Shaking himself off, the nerves he was filled with were replaced with excitement and joy, catching sights of the crowded platforms that were teeming with girlfriends, children, husbands and family of everyone who was waiting for a loved one to return.
It was busier than usual, all the extra groups he was accompanying making it harder for him to spot you, and he was out of his seat in a flash, bag scooped up in his arms and he was patting his pockets down for his phone, the device he still felt unfamiliar using again after all this time, but finding a text from you saying you were wearing a blue dress and standing under the ‘Arrivals’ sign, and that was all he needed.
He barely felt the ground between his feet, or the bump of shoulders against his, nothing seeming to matter as he weaved through the bodies, eyes fixed on the sign he could see, waiting until it was clear enough for him to catch sight of you. He watched as other’s reunited, tears and happy shouts filling the air, making sure not to trip over any dropped bags as they were discarded to allow simple embraces, and his breath hitched in his throat as he finally saw you.
Every time he went away he intended to take a picture of you with him, and every time you were together, the pair of you were so busy that he always forget to take one, and so he was only ever left with his memories to keep him company, and they did nothing to the sight of you he got every time he returned. Bright smiled and sparkling eyes, hair that whipped around you face as you dashed towards him, before you were finally in his arms.
Your body collided with his own, his bag hitting the floor with a dull thud, and his arms were sealed so tightly around you that he worried whether you could even breathe, but you were clinging to him just as tightly, and everything in his world seemed to slot back into place. Jagged corners and broken shards were coming together, piecing back into something beautiful and worthy, all because of you. The smell of your perfume, and the mango and coconut shampoo you loved so much, the way you clung to him as your body pressed up to his, he couldn't help the way his legs shook a little feeling entirely weak just getting to be home again.
“You’re home.”
He nodded, sniffling back his own tears at the sound of your cracking voice, but it was no use, because he was crying by the time he pulled away, letting out a seek laugh and wiping the water away from your cheeks as you stared up at him.
“You’re home.”
“I’m home, baby.” His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in close enough for him to be able to rest his forehead to your own, a fresh wave of tears spilling from his eyes when you leaned into him, rubbing the tip o your nose against his. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” You whispered, letting him hear you say the words, a happy sigh leaving him as his heart burst in his chest, and his lips were on your own. A sweet, and slow kiss, needy as his mouth moved against your own slowly, and his hands held you face tightly as your own gripped at his shirt, before slipping to his waist so his body could press to yours.
He couldn't get any closer, and yet it still wasn’t close enough. He needed to be wrapped up in you, to have every part of you with every part of him. He needed to never let you go, and yet he had to pull back from breath at some point. He barely gassed, his head tipping to the side and hands manoeuvring your face, before your mouths were crashing together once again, a whimper from you silencing in his mouth as wet cheeks slid together.
His skins as stinging from the salt, and his lungs burning, lips raw and swollen and yet he couldn't stop; he just needed to know you were there, that you were in his arms once again. He needed to confirm it to himself, that h could go home that night with you in his arms, the weight on his chest being that of your body curled up to him and not a rifle sitting across his body, that the coolness in the room would be the breeze from the fan in the corner and not from the harsh winds that would bite at him when he slept outside.
Life was buzzing on around you both, bodies bumping into you occasionally, and he was forced to part from you, no matter how much he wished he didn’t the sight of your red swollen lips and wide eyes being something that was burned into his memories, and he dropped one hand, the thumb of the other stills stroking over your skin slowly.
“I missed you.” You whispered, and he nodded his head, returning the sentiment in quiet words, before pressing his lips to your forehead, and ducking down until they were resting together, noses brushing as you shared the air between you both. “You’re all scratched up, and bruised.”
You were pouting a little, and he cringed, automatically, bringing his hand up to rub at the still somewhat fresh scar on his shoulder. It hasn’t been too serious, though and out of the other side, patched up in the field and scabbed over before he’d made it back to anywhere that could do real surgery, but he hadn't lost any function, and he’d been lucky enough that it hadn't been his preferred arm, pink raised flesh in a small circle on both sides to show the injury for the rest of his life. “If that bothers you, then you’re definitely not going to like what happened or my shoulder?”
You raised your brows a little at him, and he dropped the edge of his jacket, letting you push the vest aside, and a gasp leaving you as you ran your finger lightly over the puffy flesh. “Does it still hurt?” He shook his head, watching as you leaned in to place a kiss to the skin, eyes watering a little, before tugging his jacket back up and adjusting his collar, swallowing thickly as you tried to control your emotions.
“Are we going back to your place or a hotel?”
“I actually have other plans for us, I sold my place a couple of months back.”
“You sold it?” You hadn't mentioned anything about it in your letters, and he dipped down to grab his bag, his hand finding your arm, fingers dancing along your skin until your fingers were lacing with his own, and he lifted the back of your hand up to his mouth to press kisses to your knuckles as he waited for your explanation.
“I wanted to move home. My dad’s farm is getting out of control, and I want to take care of it, do it back up.”
He knew about your dad, a man who was in the army too, hence the family dance you’d been at when he’d met you, and he could imagine that it would certainly be in a little disrepair by now. He could only nod, the idea of leaving a quaint little farm life with you instead of a dangerous life of being shot at and wounded for months on end sounded perfect, your face lighting up at his agreement and approval.
“You sure that’s okay? We can get a hotel, if that’s what you want.”
He pulled you back in closer to him, pecking your lips gently, your body melting a little under his touch, and he felt like he swooned every time you physically reacted to his touch. “I think that sounds perfect, kitten, I can’t wait to see it.”
He was more than excited, because should you say yes to the question that was itching in the back of his throat to be asked, then he would be awarded that life too, he’d get to spend his days with you in the farmhouse, a simple life that he longed for with everything he had.
“Ready to go?”
“Yeah, we’re just waiting for my dad!” His brows pulled together, panic once again filling him as he looked up and over your shoulder into the rest of the station, but you were looking over his shoulder into the crowds of soldiers and families still meeting up, and he felt like ice was flooding through his veins. He knew your dad was in the army too, but he’d never asked which battalion or station, and the thought that it may be someone from one of the other units he had worked with lately made him anxious.
Your arms released him, you face lighting up once again, before you were swerving around his body, and he turned to watch you go, before you were taking an older man into your embrace, a body and face he couldn’t fail to recognise, and he felt like his throat was closing up as you were wrapped up into him. He had to check whether he was actually shaking with nerves, glad he was able to still himself when Stan pulled away, catching his eye and sending him a simple nod, clearly not having put the pieces together himself yet, and he hated the way that that the man h so admired stared at him, face morphing into shock when you came back over to him, slipping your fingers between his.
He couldn't even bring himself to curl his hand back around you own, fear striking through him as Stan came to stand before him, bag bumping roughly against his leg and he flinched, but held steady, and he had to remind himself to take a deep breath. “My daughter is the girls you’re-” In love with. Spent almost an hour telling me about last night. Coming home to. Going to propose to. “-dating?”
He felt like he could at least let out the breath he was holding as the surprise he had was yet to be ruined, and he finally gained a little composure, wrapping his fingers around your own and giving the man a stiff nod, suddenly feeling like he was back on deployment and taking orders, his gaze dropping down to the ground as he cleared his throat.
“You guys didn’t work that out?”
There was a little smile on your lips, and they both turned to look at you, a little shock evident on their faces, and you raised your brows at them both in a slightly challenging way, only making you look more adorable to him. It’s in moments like this that he would have liked to kiss you, or tell you how cute you are, but under the eyes of a man he looked up to like a father, who really was your father, he felt like he couldn’t breathe without scrutiny.
“No, we didn’t. Since you go by your mother’s last name, and Rapp simply refers to you as ‘his girl’, we didn’t exactly have a lot to work with.” He couldn't pick up on any emotion in his tone like he normally could, and it only made him feel more nervous, yet you didn’t seem to sense the overbearing tension hanging over the two men, simply telling them to grab their bags as you reached into your pocket for the car keys, jingling them in their faces as you began to rattle off about the cleaning you’d done to get it ready for their return, and the lasagne you’d made, waiting to be set off in the oven as soon as you all got home.
He opted for the backseat, loading his bags into the trunk and slinking into the car, seating behind your seat in hopes that it would stop you being able to see him when you glanced in the mirrors, hiding his internal panic as he stared out of the windows, trying to think over just how he was going to handle the situation. Luckily for him, you were more than happy to just chat with your father, because he hadn't been able to follow any of the conversations you were having. After all, his mind was spinning far too quickly as he tried to work out how his friend and mentor was feeling.
It was all a little overwhelming, the relaxed and loving welcome home that he’d been dreaming of felt shattered, the same stiffness in his body and worried twisting in his gut that he usually held when pushing the front lines was back, but his head was spinning in confusion, giving him an entirely new kind of paralysing fear. He had training for his work in the army, he knew what to do, textbooks and drill routines memorised from cover to cover, every piece of information from every course was burned into his memory like the lyrics to a favourite song, but there had never been any training regarding ‘what to do when you somehow manage to have the bad luck of falling head over heels in love with the daughter of one of the scariest men you’ve ever met, but she is the one™ and you cannot give her up under any circumstances’, or the shortened name of ‘how to survive being a dumbass: 101’. He must’ve been sick that day.
The farm didn’t look nearly as bad as he’d expected when they arrived, the outside paint was flaking a little and some of the fences were broken, but you had seemed to have been clearing out, a large pickup truck in the back piled high with a waterproof cover pulled over it, and the light on the front garden was turned on as the light began to fade, blue skies dulling to a pastel purple. He took his time, letting you press a kiss to his cheek when he said he’d get the bags from the back, so that you could go inside and set the food off on a slow cook, giving him a chance to move the ring from his bag to his pocket, and take a second to calm himself down, before following you both inside.
Stan was quick to take the bags, taking them away to the laundry room in claims of not wanting to be sitting around the stench of them, and your hands found his, eyes searching his own in a look he recognised well, trying to work him out and puzzle together what was wrong, and as the two of you were alone again, he let himself relax. You pulled him along towards the stairs, through the corridors and up to the stairs, before pushing open the door to a room that had more pink decorating the walls than he thought possible, a real eyesore is a he was being honest, and you clearly knew it too, if the giggles you let out were anything to go by.
“Welcome to where I grew up. Half the time, anyway. When I wasn’t with my mum.”
He took it all in, all the things that made you up now, having roots here, and he could recognise each and every one of them, his lips flicking up at the corners in the first real smile he’d had since the revelation at the train station. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress squeaking a little underneath him, and he shifted to finally pull his boots off of his feet, flexing his toes out and letting a groan leave his lips, feeling the tight leather finally free his foot up.
You chuckled, kneeling behind him on the bed and leaning over his shoulder to press a kiss to his cheek, to which he pushing up into the action, his body resting back against your own as your hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his chest, rubbing gently as you went to ease knotted muscles, and Mitch felt his eyes flutter shut as he allowed himself to let his worries slip away for a moment.
He wanted out of the army outfits, and the smell of dirt that he felt was ingrained in his skin, and he wanted into something comfortable, the clothes he’d left at your house having already found a place in the pink and white set of draws, he was sure.
“I’m going to get it all changed up before next time, it hasn’t been changed since I was a kid and got my own place, but since I’m moving home..” You trailed off, and he knew where you were going with it, picking up your hand and kissing along it, up you are until he was tugging you round to sit across his lap, and able to move his lips over your cheek. “I can show you some ideas I have over the next few days, you can help me decide how to decorate this place.”
“I’d love that.”
You nuzzled into his cheek, and he could hear your father moving around in the kitchen below, but right now it was just the two of you, and he squeezed you in closer to him in order to soak up every single moment that the two of you were having together. It may not have been how he wanted it to go, but as he settled into it a little more, it became more and more perfect with every moment.
There was a hand weaving through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, and he felt the rumbling feeling of satisfaction deep in his chest when you scratched lightly through the locks and kissed at the side of his mouth.
“Your hair is so long.”
“Been a busy few weeks, I didn’t have time to get anyone to cut it for me.” Mitch twisted his head, catching your lips with his and you let out a delicate sound into his mouth when he did. You twisted around, your hand slipping down to the base o his neck to hold on tightly, and he realised that this was exactly a life he could get used to, just kissing you and living a simple life on a farm in the middle of nowhere, because he just wanted peace, and quiet, and a family.
“Can I cut it for you?”
You were looking up at him now, weaving your fingers through his hair as you grinned a little, eyes pleading with him to say yes. “I’ll leave my hair wet when I get out of the shower, and you can cut it after I shave this off.” He scratched at his face, your lips pressing over his stubbled jaw once his fingers had moved.
You hopped up out of his lap, kicking his boots out of the way and into the corner of the room when he was up, before moving over to the drawers and tapping at the top two drawers. “Put all your stuff in here, and there are towels in a rack in the bathroom. The water tank is massive, so don’t worry about the water going cold. I’ll set a chair out and find my hair scissors.”
He reached out, pulling your lips back to his for a final kiss, and you grinned into his lips.
“Down the hall, on the left.”
He nodded, watching as you slipped off your shoes, pulling on a pair of slipped in place, and he ducked his head to hide your smile. He looked back fondly on the days when the two of you would stumble out of the elevator and into a hotel room, barely getting dressed for the first two or three days he was home, and unable to keep your hands off of one another, but he loved this so much more.
He loved being domestic with you, and watching you go about your day, and getting to spend hours on end with you sitting in his lap and talking to him about paint samples and whether you wanted a modern or classic cottage feel to your home, and it all felt like he dream. Coming home to someone who met him at the train station in pretty blue sundresses who made lasagne and cut his hair, and kissed his scars when he got hurt, he loved it all, but he didn’t want it anymore.
He patted down his pockets, taking the box he’d so carefully concealed from you and hiding it in the bottom drawer of the bedside table, alongside some old textbooks and what he was certain was a Nintendo DS, a few game cartridges beside it.
Grabbing a spare set of clothes from the drawer and heading to the bathroom, he flicked at the lock on the door, sealing it up before switching on the shower, running the water with his hand underneath it as he adjusted the temperature, a tired smile finding his face as he stepped up and into the tub, the shock at not having to rush through making him feel like time was actually slowing down.
His legs dropped out from underneath him, and he sunk down into the basin of the tub, his hands running through his hair and his legs pulled up so that he could drop his head down, feeling the water thrashing down onto his back. After what felt like hours of simply soaking in the heat, he reached out for the sponge, the shelf above him wobbling a little as he snatched up a bottle of shower gel too, and the fruity smell that came out from the second he lathered up and scrubbed down his skin made him feel like he was floating, a stark contrast to the medical-scented bar of soap that he was given on deployment.
He took a shower that was at least four times the limited length he got every time he was on duty, and had to physically drag himself off of the floor when he was done, absolutely certain that Stan was going to want to wash up too. Sealing a towel around his waist, he stepped into the mirror, smearing the steam away from it, and checking out the mess of facial hair dotted along his jaw and upper lip, all the way down to his chin.
He liked his stubble, liked the feel of it on his face and the way it protected his skin every time he scratched at his jaw anxiously. Instead of taking it all off, he smeared cream around the edges of his face and neck, gathering the cream up in the area that had grown out of control and searching for a razor, finding a packet of disposable ones set out, and he snatched the wrapper and covering from it, and running it along his skin. He trimmed his beard back gently with a pair of small scissors, patting his skin down and feeling more like himself as he slicked back the length of hair, suddenly feeling like he was gaining a little more of himself back with every action. With a baggy and soft cotton t-shirt, and a pair of worn old grey sweats, he shook himself down, bare feet wandering over the wooden floors as he scooped up his old clothes and used towel, dumping them into the laundry basket in the bedroom, and making his way downstairs.
Showering had made him feel like he was rinsing the stress and fears out of his life, and yet there was still the slight twisting and anxiety in his gut as he approached the downstairs of the house. You had a wooden chair set up on the porch outside, warmth of the day still flowing through the Virginia Country house, and Stan was standing in the kitchen, a bottle of beer raised to his lips as he flicked through the paper sitting on the counter, a pen in his other hand and the crossword half-completed.
You were all set up, sitting on the porch swing with a book in your hand as you swung slowly, one foot on the ground to push you, and he made his way over to you, your head snapping up when the door creaked a little. He rubbed his hands on his pants, settling down into a chair, your feet padding across the wood and hands smoothing a towel around his shoulders, letting him tip his head back to look up at you as you combed his hair back and out of his face.
“How short do you want it?”
“How short do you want it to be, sweetheart?” You grinned, tugging at it a little and leaning down to press an upside-down kiss to his lips, before evaluating the hair in your hands.
“How about the length it was when we met? Longer on the top but shorter on the sides, and you can gel it up when we go out.” You pushed a hand through his hair, before smirking at him a little, running a finger over the freshly trimmed stubble. “You look hot.”
“You look beautiful, kitten.”
You snorted at his joke, his heart fluttering at the sound of it as he looked up at you, closing his eyes as he felt you begin to comb his hair into sections. “You’re staring up my nose and at my double chin, I definitely don’t look beautiful. But, I will accept your compliment anyway.”
“You should, because I love you no matter what, even if I can see right up into your brain.”
You slapped at his arm lightly, causing a laugh to leave him, before he could feel you beginning to trim and snip at his hair, pieces of it falling down across his skin and fluttering away to the floor. It didn’t take nearly as long as he thought it would, and you apologised throughout the entire process, somehow switching between confidence in yourself and being sure you were fucking it up, telling him how great you thought it looked, before telling him that if he hated you wouldn't be mad. Worst case scenario, it came out awfully and the two of you had to shave his head back down to the buzzcut he had in freshman year, but there was no call for that yet, and so he waited patiently as you worked on his head.
He knew it was coming to an end when you were buzzing at the back of his neck with an electric razor, his chin perched on his hands as he leaned forwards, staring out across the Virginia countryside at a sight he would love to wake up to and drink his coffee upon watching for every day in the rest of his life, and he could only hope that you would say yes to him, and grant him a life he so dreamed of, with a loving wife by his side and a peaceful job that brought him nothing buts serenity.
When you were done, you rounded to the front of him, one hand holding a mirror behind your back and the other cupping his cheek, leaning down to kiss him more firmly than you had before. His lips parted for you, a soft moan falling from his and your tongue peeked out to play with his, and yet he couldn't quite chase away that feeling of dread, the crashing realisation that the kitchen had an open plan wall space, and that Stan could see directly out through the clear door straight to you both made him snap back.
Your brows were furrowed as you looked at him, pink cheeks taking place he was sure, and he offered you a smile that you didn’t return as you instead pursed your lips, but seemed to let it go. You held up a mirror for him, silently waiting for his approval as he took it in, brushing his fingers along the now dry hair, and shaking his head a little to free it of the chopped off but trapped pieces.
“You like it?”
“I love it, it looks great. In a week or so, when we’re feeling up it, we can go into town and get it neatened up, but I think you did an awesome job.” You finally game him another grin, and he waited for the kiss that usually followed when you smiled at him like that, but you never moved, hands clasped in front of you and you rolled a little on the balls of your feet.
“Well, I’ll go and check on the lasagne then.”
He knew it was a result of his actions, but he still felt saddened, especially when you slipped by him without even pressing your lips to his cheek either, and he sighed at his nerves. He was going to ask you to marry him, whether Stan approved of it or not, and just because the person who was arguably the closest person he had to daily beside you may not like it, he still loved you with everything he had, he just needed time to process it, but he hated that it was hurting you in the meantime.
By the time he’d swept up all the leftover hair with a garden brush and brought the towels and the chair back inside, you were serving up three plates, the meat and pasta calling out to him, and Mitch couldn't quite remember that last he’d had a home-cooked meal, a plate placed in front of him that he could barely resist. The fresh bottle of beer placed in front of him by Stan felt like a peace offering of sorts, and a smile was given in return, nods of heads seeming like the olive branch was accepted, and yet the heavyweight in his stomach still existed.
He made an effort to tune into the dinner conversation, though, and to listen to what was being said, and to chip in at times. It mostly consisted of you complaining about the troubles you’d been through when getting the place ready, and your encounter with a spider you swore was the size of your fist dropping down out of one of the ceiling corners at you, and that you’d cried while smacking it wit a brush until certain it was dead, both him and Stan getting a kick out of it as you pouted in your seat.
You also told him about the plans you had, Stan’s eyes flicking over to him every time you mentioned them going back out on deployment, and he felt like his throat was getting tighter and tighter each time, making it harder to swallow his food, or even breath, and the ring upstairs felt as though it was screaming out to him, to pop the question and just get it done so that his wonder would be known.
He helped you wash up, your hip bumping against his as you laughed and joked, letting him dry the pots as he handed them to stand who put them away, before you were wiping your hands dry, left standing with the two of them in silence, as the conversation seemed to run out. He could feel your eyes on him, but his own were locked with your father’s a staredown that seemed to say everything there was that hung in the air between them, and you patted his arm, before squeezing through, mumbling about going for a bath before heading upstairs, and leaving the two of them alone.
The contest only lasted a few seconds longer, before Stan was making his way back to the table collapsing down into the chair and picking the paper back up, staring at it with a burning gaze, and he crossed his arms over his chest in what was more like a protective armour tan a dominating stance.
“I’m still going to marry her.”
“If she says yes.” Stan huffed, and he wiped a hand over his face, swallowing down his emotions and taking the other seat opposite him.
“I know you don’t think I’m good enough for her, but I love your daughter with everything I have, and I’m still going to ask her to spend the rest of her life with me, because that’s what I want, with her.”
He finally earned the rest to a simple glance, the newspaper falling flat with a hustle of papers, as Stan took a long swing of the drink, eyes narrowing at him as he set it down. “What makes you think that I think you’re not good enough for her? Putting words in my mouth now, Rapp?”
“No, those are your words.” Hurley raised his eyebrows a little bit, prompting an explanation from him, and Mitch leaned back in his seat. “Just over three years ago. You told me your daughter had started seeing someone, I asked you if you liked the guy, and you said no. You said you hadn't met him yet, but that he wasn’t good enough for your daughter, you just knew it.”
Stan’s lips flicked up at the sides as he remembered the comment, a low chuckle falling from him. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, well, I don’t find it as funny now that I know it’s me.” Stan studied him for a moment, and Mitch shrugged, deciding that whether Stan was going to give his approval or not, there was a chance they’d be family own day, and so he should know why he was in the army in the first place. “Your daughter is all I have, she’s my everything. I had no one when I joined up, I was seventeen when enlisted, my parents were dead and I was just another kid coming up through the system with nothing to show for it, and so I looked for a family wherever I could get it. The army offered that for a while, made me feel less alone, and useful. But then I met (Y/N), and everything seemed to change, and my focus shifted on finding a family to just getting to come home to her, so whether you like it or not, I love her.”
The silence that fell over them both when he finished speaking felt more deafening than the bombs and bullets he’d been forced to listen go off for the last few months, and he had to physically force himself to stop the tapping of his leg that happened every time he got jittery. “You love her?”
“I do.”
“You know, she has a history of dating some pretty bad guys. At first, I think she genuinely didn’t know any better, of course, she was in high school, and so I grounded her. Then, I think she started dating bad guys to spite me and her mom when he broke up. When I heard she was dating someone new, I just assumed it was another guy who was going to break her heart.” Mitch kind of wished he had his own beer at this moment, or maybe a full bottle of rum, anything to take the stinging edge off of this conversation. “Are you going to do that? Are you going to up and leave her?”
“Sir, she’d have to break my heart to get rid of me, and I’d still love her then.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He hummed, before picking up his paper, mumbling to himself as he searched around for his pen, before finding it placed behind his ear, going back to figuring out the crossword from a newspaper that was days old, and he could just search the answers up online, but that wasn’t what mattered right now.
“That sounded an awful lot like a blessing.”
“Well, of course, it was.” Stan grouched, before lowing his paper a little to peer over the top. “You’re committed, and you care, and I’ve known you for years. You’re a good man, Mitch, exactly the kind of person I want for my little girl to be with, and it’s even better that I already know you, I don’t have to do the intimidating dad act. You already know I could shoot you with pinpoint accuracy from a hundred metres away.”
He smirked at the end of his sentence, but with his nerves gone, Mitch was able to read the older man’s body language once again, laughing both at the joke, and to himself as he watched Stan get frustrated and fold the paper back up, tucking it under his arm and patting Mitch on the shoulder. He felt as though he may die of relief, feeling the calmness wash over him in euphoric waves so strong he felt high, and he covered his face with his hands, sighing to himself quietly for a second, having been worrying over nothing.
“I’m going to the pub in town, I’ll be back in the early hours. I have some friends who owe me some drinks.”
He simply waved him off, watching out of the window as Stan wandered out to the pickup truck, peeping at the contents underneath the tarp, and scoffing before lifting the edge up. He pulled back out what could only be described as one of the most hideous, eighties-style lamps that he had ever seen, hiding it in the barn before covering it back up and setting off on his journey. He contemplated telling you about the retrieved piece of hideous furniture, but Mitch had just won a really big battle, so if Stan wanted the ugly lamp then he could have the ugly lamp.
You were singing to yourself, the sound of your feet on the floor telling him that you were finished in the bath, and only a second later, water was draining away, audibly through the pipes, and he placed himself down on the edge of the bed as he waited for you, now nervous for entirely new reasons.
It took a few minutes before you arrived, your hair neatly combed and skin clean of makeup, a baggy shirt and a pair of leggings covering you, and Mitch swore you looked just as beautiful right now as you did when he’d first met you, all dressed up with red lips and a ball gown and a gorgeous up-do in your hair. You jumped a little upon seeing him, but gave him a soft smile, making your way to your dresser and searching around or some cream, before applying it to your face delicately.
“Your dad went out, said he was going for some drinks with his friends. Apparently, he’s owed some drinks.” You seemed to know just who, laughing to yourself in the mirror as you worked on your skin, and he fidgeted a little with his hands, watching you go. “Can we talk, though? It’s pretty important, and we have a little while to ourselves, so I figured now was a good time.”
You stilled your movements, before nodding slowly, turning in your chair to talk to him. “Are we breaking up?”
“Hold on, what?”
“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, that’s okay, but I’d rather you just tell me than try and hint at it, or get me to do it.” You crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze leaving his own, looking down at the floor, and continuing on before he had a chance to figure out what to say.
“What makes you think I want that?”
“You’ve been acting weird all day, ever since you got off the train. You used to be so excited to see me, and you’ve barely spoken to me all night, and you don’t want to kiss me anymore, so I feel like you want to break up with me.” He felt stunned, but was crossing the room before he could stop himself. With own hand on the edge of the dresser and the other on your cheek, he pulled your mouth up to meet his own, a fiery kiss that made everything inside of him burst open in fireworks when you squeaked with shock, lips frozen against his own as he tried to tempt you into kissing him back and you eventually caved.
Your lips meshed with his own, sweet kisses that had you lifting your hands up to hold his face in return, before you were standing, shaky legs pushing you to meet him, your bodies pressing together and he snaked an arm around your waist to hold you close. He didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to ever think that he would, and he certainly never wanted you to doubt his love for you again. “I don’t want to break up with you, kitten, I want to marry you.”
“What?” You were still a little breathless when he spoke the words, but he shook his head, laughing lightly before pulling you away and sitting you down on the edge of the bed, before reaching over to the drawer in which he had a ring hidden away.
Producing the little velvet box, he found himself down on one knee, holding it up to you and grinning at the look on your face. “I love you, so much. You have given me everything I never thought I’d get in life. I don’t want to go back to the army, and I don’t want to be away from you anymore. When I signed up, and I had nothing to live for, and so serving - and ultimately dying - for my country seemed like a good way to go about my life, but then you walked in. With your pretty eyes and your jokes and your inability to let me just have a fling. You were supposed to be temporary, and now I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who asked me if I wanted to get breakfast with you the following morning.” You sniffed back some tears, laughing at the memory yourself, and he nodded his head bushing a little as he did.
“Because I knew from the moment you first kissed me that I needed more from you.” He wiped at his own cheeks, before reaching up to you, and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I promise you, I’m never going to want to stop kissing you, or loving you. I don’t want to go back to the army. I want to live here, on this farm, with you. I want to do it up, and live our lives, and I don’t want to go away anymore. I want to have kids, and ride pickup trucks, and maybe a farm cat, and I want to reconstruct the broken fireplace downstairs because there’s a fern in it, baby, why have you got a fern in the fireplace?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, laughing at him as you sunk down onto the floor before him, and he kneeled there carefully, waiting for your reply. “It’s broken! It was ugly just sitting there empty!”
“I’ll fix it for you. For us. If you’ll have me. I love you so much, kitten, and I want to know, if you’ll do me the honour of marrying me?”
“In what world would I say no?” You whispered, before your arms were around his neck, his back meeting the carpet as you kissed him with such force that the two of you rolled backwards, and he could barely kiss you for the grin on his face. “I would love to marry you, Mitch Rapp.”
He pushed the ring onto your finger, twisting it a little as you admired it. It was a perfect fit, and he internally congratulated himself on having gotten it right, his hands finding your hips and slipping underneath your shirt to rub at your bare skin slowly, watching as you tried to compose yourself, and he couldn't remember a time before this that he’d ever been happier. “Don’t leave me. Not ever.”
“Why would I ever want to leave my handsome soldier, hm?”
“Handsome farmer, now.” He teased, picking you up underneath your thighs as you shrieked at the movement, clinging to him tightly, before your back was meeting the mattress, and you were pulling him back down into another kiss.
You were asleep when Mitch heard the door open and close once again, the locks being flicked and he paused in his movements, running his fingers up and down your bare back slowly, his head tipping to the side as he listened out. It was clearly your father, shoes being kicked off and low sighs sounding or as he moved around, glasses from the cabinet clinking before the tap was running, and he figured that Stan was getting a glass of water, trying to get himself ready for bed in the late hour.
Your hand was still splayed across his chest beside your face, ring twinkling in the light coming in through the windows, and with a groan, he shifted himself out of the bed, watching as you shuffled around a little your hand catching onto him before he went, pouted lips pulling him back down for a quick kiss, before you were pulling a pillow in close to your body instead and replacing him with the cushion as you drifted back off.
Tugging his sweats back on, h swiped his short from the floor, trying to get it the right way out before leaving the room, and finally succeeding, the material taking place on his body only a second later. He pulled shut the blinds, and placed a kiss to your temple, before adjusting the blankets over your body and leaving the room, bedroom door clicking shut quietly behind him.
Stan was already anticipating his arrival, staring at the staircase as he came down them, and he got another glass, filling it with water and silently offering it to Mitch has he leaned against the counter.
“Did you ask her?” He simply nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck and mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ in return for the drink taking a long sip of it as Stan stared at him, before letting out an exaggerated sigh as he decided to press further, and a blush crawled along Mitch’s neck. “Well? What did she say?”
“She said yes.” He rubbed at the spot on his own finger where a ring would soon be, and the other man gave him was possibly the brightest smile he’d ever seen him hold, before clinking the two glasses of water together in a ‘cheers’ motion. Only a second later, he was being pulled into his embrace, water glasses discarded, and Mitch felt tears spring to his eyes as he clung onto Stan just as tightly, the act of fatherly affection being something he had so sorely missed, and definitely something he could get used to. When they pulled back, he tried not to show the effect it had on him, but Stan overlooked it if he did see it, gripping his shoulder and squeezing comfortingly instead.
“Welcome to the family, kid.”
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all of your love
Hey y’all! Here’s Chapter 4 of my Playlist series. Make sure you catch up on the series (and check out my other stuff) by checking out my masterlist HERE.
Let me know what y’all think!
This one is nasty (18+ as always), enjoy!
Word count: 6,195
T’Challa woke up Tuesday morning eager as a kid on Christmas. Every second that went by brought him closer to Ashanti and he couldn’t wait any longer, his excited nerves building to critical mass within him. Natasha and Wanda had noticed his constant texting and smiling at his beads, and worked hard the entire time he was there to get the truth out of him about who he was talking to. They tried asking Okoye, but she was a steel trap so the two of them cornered him in the living room just before his departure. Their suspicions were confirmed when he proudly pulled up a picture of her to show them.
“Damn she fine, who is that?” Sam sauntered into the room as T’Challa quickly shut the projection down and cleared his throat.
“She is none of your concern.”
“His girlfriend,” Natasha said at the same time before smirking into her cup of coffee. T’Challa looked at her in disbelief and she shrugged back at him in response. “Oh please, he would’ve found out eventually.”
The king rolled his eyes and left the room in a huff to go pack his things.
“He’s so pissy today,” Natasha said, a smirk still firmly planted on her face.
“He misses her, it’s adorable,” Wanda responded.
“Shit, I would too. Y’all saw her.”
T’Challa swept back in the room, bags in hand, calling to Okoye on his beads.
“General, are you ready to go?”
“Ewe kumkani wam, be down in a moment.”
Cap rounded the corner and picked up on T’Challa’s anxious energy. He turned to look at the other faces and a smile crept up his before he turned to his friend.
“Ready to get back to Ashanti, huh?”
A chorus of “Ashanti?!” broke out.
“Why’d he get to know her name and we didn't?” Wanda asked incredulously.
“I was getting there but the bird interrupted,” T’Challa said with a shrug, referring to Sam who rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to the king before leaving the room.
“Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a second before you go?”
“Of course Steve, what is it?”
The two of them ducked off into the hallway for privacy.
“How is he?” Steve asked of his friend.
“He is responding to treatment really well, you should come see him sometime. Shuri has removed most of the words, and living with the Border tribe seems to be good for his mental state.”
Steve smiled from ear to ear. Hearing about Bucky’s progress warmed his heart and he seriously considered hopping on the jet with T’Challa right then and there.
“How about next week sometime? I have some things I need to finish up here, but I’d love to come see him. And see Wakanda properly this time.”
The two heroes shook hands and returned to the living room. At that moment Vision floated up through the floor and Okoye rounded the corner.
“I will never get used to that.”
“My apologies, general.”
“Apology accepted. My king?”
“Yes, we should get going. I will see you all again, hopefully not too soon.”
They said their goodbyes as the two Wakandans made their way to the Royal Talon Fighter to head home. Once Okoye had them in the air, T’Challa retired to one of the jet’s two bedrooms to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and take a nap on the plush Wakandan mattress he missed so much. He was out like a light.
“My king, we are home,” Okoye lightly shook T’Challa awake. He got up and changed back into his clothes before exiting the ship. The entire royal family was there to greet him, much to his surprise. He greeted his mother and sister before landing on his cousin.
“Umzala, I thought you were heading to Oakland,” he said as they dapped each other up.
“I’m about to head out now, just figured I’d wait a few and say hey to my favorite cousin.”
“You said I was your favorite cousin!” Shuri butted in.
“Hush, Dr. Frankenstein,” N’Jadaka remarked back at her. Shuri was shocked, but her face quickly morphed into amusement as a laugh erupted from her lips.
“If I’m Dr Frankenstein you just called yourself the monster,” Shuri cackled as she walked away, most likely going back to her lab to tinker with the laws of physics or something simple like that.
“Welcome home son,” Ramonda lightly pushed her nephew aside. “How are the Avengers?”
T’Challa rolled his eyes at their incompetence and inability to work as a fluid team.
“Inept, mama. The captain might be visiting soon though,” he said with an eyebrow raise, knowing his mother had a little crush on Captain America.
“Oh, will he? I’ll have to be sure to spend some one on one time with the captain while he’s here.”
“Ew, Auntie.”
“Mama, please stop.”
“What? I still got it!” Ramonda turned and walked back towards the palace.
The cousins just looked at eachother and shuddered before N’Jadaka took off in the same jet T’Challa just arrived on.
The next morning, T’Challa woke up later than most days. When he returns from a mission he likes to keep his workload light the following day, so he caught up on more of the sleep he had been missing out on. The very first thing he did after waking up was send Ashanti a “good morning beautiful” text, and before his feet even hit the floor she had responded.
Ashanti: Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?
T: Much better in my own bed, but still not as good as when you were in my arms.
A: Don’t make me blush.
T: But it’s so cute when you do.
T’Challa dragged himself out of bed and straight to his shower, turning on the hot water and turning his jungle bathroom into a sauna.
“Kim, shuffle between my recently played songs.” He called out to the AI housed in his beads and around his quarters.
“Now playing ‘all of your love’ by Luke James,” the smooth automated voice rang out. A smile spread across his face as he remembered his picnic with Ashanti by the lake. They tapped beads and made a joint playlist, this album being one of Ashanti’s favorites. He had listened to it multiple times while he was away, missing her with every note.
You got the kinda loving
That'll break a motherfucker's knees, baby
Got me begging, got me craving
I just wanna get a squeeze, baby
Don't leave me 'lone
Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone
Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here
I want it all
Want it all, want it all
Want it all, want it all, my dear
All of your love
(Give it all to me baby, yeah)
All of your love, yeah
(It's for me it's for you, baby)
All of your love
(I need it)
Give me all of your love (ooh)
He stepped under the faux rainfall and let it wash over his body, lathering up with some mango scented black soap. After his perfectly sculpted body was clean he turned off the water and air dried while covering his smooth brown skin in cocoa butter.
The king was looking forward to his day for two reasons: he would get to spend time with his little sister during the day and then Ashanti at night. For his first major stop of the day, he and Shuri went to the mines to check on the progress of the latest excavation efforts. The mining tribe elder K’Hari was intent on setting T’Challa up with his daughter Tamala, so they quickly made their escape to Shuri’s lab where they spent the rest of the day playfully bickering over who makes better gadgets while testing out some of Shuri’s latest inventions. T’Challa knew he would not win the argument, but enjoyed annoying his little sister.
Around lunchtime T’Challa made his way back to the palace to eat with Ramonda in her garden. She wasted no time cutting to the chase.
“So this Ashanti, you have feelings for her?”
T’Challa nearly choked on his water, not expecting to cross into that territory so soon.
“Uh, yes, umama, I do. It is still early though, the other night was only our first da-” he stopped when he saw the incredulous look on her face. She sucked her teeth at him.
“You brought a girl to the palace after one date? Do you make a habit of this?”
“No mama, I promise. The last time was when you caught me a few years back. With Ashanti it just...felt right.”
“Hmm...Lets hope it is. Bringing girls in the palace you barely know, I may not have been there your whole life, but I definitely raised you better than that...I can see she is different though, not like the riff raff you usually sniff around. That last girl you dated was horrid-”
T’Challa listened as Ramonda read his love life for filth, and all he could do was sit there.
“-skirts up to her ass, heels way too high for the setting. Thank Bast you’ve found someone good. Good for you, and good for Wakanda.”
“Woah, mama, we have only had one date and you are talking about Wakanda already? I do not even know if she would want to be queen one day.”
“No, but you want her to. I can see it in your eyes when you look at her. Yes, it’s early but you’re in love, unyana wam. The other day, watching the two of you, I could see how...easy you were with each other. I miss that easiness I had with your father…” T’Challa grabbed her hand as her eyes got misty. Ramonda blinked the tears away and turned the conversation back to T’Challa and Ashanti. “Everyone can see it, and I bet she’s walking around just as googly-eyed as you are.”
______
Ashanti and Kwame walked through the market arm-in-arm, picking up ingredients as they went.
“So tell me about this mining tribe hottie,” Ashanti spoke after a comfortable silence.
“Sis, I have one word for you: biceps. He could benchpress me and I just- woo that’s hot as fuck.” Kwame said, picking up a fan from a vendor and fanning himself dramatically before paying the old lady who ran the store.
“You really just bought a fan to be dramatic?”
“It’s practical and a prop!”
The two roommates broke out into giggles.
“Anyways, his name is Omar. Here’s his picture, isn't he cute? Ugh those dimples, I could swim in them.”
Ashanti flipped through a couple pictures of the two of them before Kwame shut the hologram down.
“You’re scrolling too much, you might see things you can't unsee.”
“Good looking out, friend.”
“So what are you serving kumkani other than that pussy?” Kwame asked loudly.
“Will you keep your voice down?! I’m not trying to announce this to the world.” Ashanti whisper-yelled at him before he threw his hands up in surrender.
“My bad, my bad. Hey did you close the shop today or did you finally hire someone?”
“No, not yet. I haven’t even really been looking, I should get on that. But, uh, yeah I closed early. I'm there 7 days a week, the people can handle me being out for a few hours,” Ashanti said, Kwame nodding along in agreement. “Hey, want to stop by my parents’ place for lunch?”
“Girl when have I ever said no to food?” Kwame responded with excitement. He never said no to food.
“Should we bring something back for B?”
“No she’s probably going to stay a couple nights with Kiki. You know, so they can ‘catch up’ or whatever. Honestly, its like she forgets i can see right through her.” Kwame rolled his eyes.
“Even I can see they have feelings for eachother-”
“Girl blind people see they have feelings for each other. It’s her first experience with a girl so I don’t want to push her but damnit just do gay shit already sis!”
They arrived at Zana Cafe right as Ashanti’s riotous laughter subsided.
“Hey babygirl, hey Kwame! Where’s my other daughter?” Chidi asked, hugging them both.
The three of them sat at a table near the kitchen and away from the hustle and bustle.
“She’s out ignoring her feelings for Kiki.”
“Kiki Odunsi? She’s a nice girl, Binta has good taste.”
“That’s what I said, Baba, but she’s just too nervous to act on it. Yet she pushes me into the king’s arms-”
“I’m sure I don't want to hear the rest of that statement, but your mom will be back soon and I’m sure she’d love to hear all about it. You kids want some food? We got some curry that just finished, you have perfect timing.”
“We felt it in our souls,” Kwame half-joked. Chidi disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with their food, letting them dig in while he ran the restaurant.
About halfway through lunch Kwame got a message from Omar that made his entire face turn red as his lip disappeared under his top teeth.
“Go ahead,” Ashanti said, already knowing the content of the message without having to see it. He either sent a nasty picture or a dirty text, and either way she knew the second Kwame saw it he was mentally already sucking Omar’s dick.
He got up, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and waving goodbye to Chidi as he all but ran to his dick appointment.
“Well he sure got out of here in a hurry,” Chidi came over and sat across from his daughter.
“A boy texted him.”
“Should’ve known,” he said before clearing his throat. “So, the king...how is that going?”
“You actually want to talk about it?”
“Of course, you’re my daughter. It’s just hard to see you as an adult sometimes, but I’m getting better at it.”
“Well he and I really connect on a lot of levels. He’s so smart, and sweet, and considerate and I know we only had that one date but I feel like I’ve known him for years. We have another date tonight, I’m making him mama’s pirri pirri chicken.”
Chidi sat back in amazement. Here was his little girl...in love...with the king of Wakanda.
“You know, that’s what your mother made the first time she cooked for me.”
“It is?!”
“Mhm, that’s how she hooked me. Been trapped ever since.”
Ashanti playfully hit her father’s arm and thought about her meal plan for later.
“Well, Baba, I have to go prep for tonight. Give Mama my love when she gets back.” Ashanti kissed her father on the cheek and headed back to her empty home.
______
Her “Sacral Chakra” playlist blasted through the house as she danced in her underwear to Missy Elliott’s “Throw it Back” while stirring the rice one last time. Everything was ready, and she still had plenty of time before he was supposed to show up. She put the oven on “warm” and stuffed the dishes inside before removing the rice from the heat and trotting upstairs to get herself ready for the life changing dick-down she was surely about to receive.
She changed the music to fit the mood she wanted to set, switching to her “Sexy” playlist and swooning at the sound of one of her favorite songs tickling her ears.
Like a flame to a moth
I'm addicted to your sauce, so bad
I want it 24/7, 365, 911
I need it fast
Don't leave me 'lone (so)
Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone (so fast)
Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here
(911 terrible baby, yeah)
I want it all
Want it all, want it all
Want it all, want it all, my dear
All of your love
(Give it all to me, baby)
All of your love, yes
(It's for me it's for you, baby)
All of your love
('Cause I need it)
Give me all of your love (ooh)
Luke’s voice carried her as she took a dip in the tub with a colorful jasmine and ylang ylang bath bomb before moisturizing with rose-infused shea butter. Her skin smelled like a forbidden garden, just the way she liked it. Then she trimmed her pubic hair, cleaning up her bikini line and giving him a clear, well-groomed path to her treasure trove. Finally, she painted her nails and toes white to stand out against her skin and avoid clashing with her colorful, off the shoulder, bodycon ankara dress. Ashanti chose to keep her braids down and makeup light again, knowing all that extra makeup would get ruined anyway. For a final touch she slid on her strappy gold stilettos, knowing just how much he loved them from their kimoyo chats.
The doorbell rang and Ashanti took a deep breath before straightening her dress and heading to the door. When she opened it both of their jaws dropped. There he was in an all-black suit with a black shirt underneath, a purple pocket square, and that damn hoop in his ear. He looked like the black panther he was and Ashanti wanted nothing more than to be his prey.
His eyes roamed her body and landed back on her face before he stepped over the threshold and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues danced alongside each other as both of their hands reacquainted themselves with the other’s body. T’Challa’s hand steadily sliding down her backside brought her out of her daze and she broke the kiss. He frowned as though she had taken away his favorite toy.
“Dinner, your highness.” She said before giving him one last peck and escaping to the kitchen with him on her heels. As she tried to maneuver around the kitchen, T’Challa refused to let go of her waist, whispering sweet nothings in her ear every few seconds about how much he missed her.
“T’Challa, go sit down, I’ll bring you your food,” She giggled as he kissed her cheek repeatedly. “Go!”
He let her go with a slap on the ass and sat down at the table, watching her float around the kitchen. After a couple minutes, Ashanti set two plates full of delicious looking food down on the table. She cracked open a bottle of palm wine and poured them both a generous amount.
“Are you trying to get me drunk Miss Mostafa?”
“Maybe. Cheers.” Their glasses clinked together and they both took a sip without breaking eye contact.
“Tell me what you think,” Ashanti pointed at his plate to get him to focus. The king took one bite and his eyes rolled back in his head.
“You made this?!”
“Ha ha, T’Challa. Yes, I made this. It’s my umama’s recipe though. And make sure you save room for dessert” she said while digging into her food.
“My compliments to the chef,” he said as he seductively brought his lips around his forkful of food, still staring into her soul.
The two of them caught up on their time apart, what little they didn’t already discuss in their kimoyo chats. T’Challa regaled her with stories of his work with the Avengers, and he watched her in admiration as she spoke about the happenings at Taj’s.
“Ready for our next course?” Ashanti asked the king.
“I am.”
Ashanti scooped the warm mango cobbler into two bowls and topped each one with ice cream. She set T’Challa’s bowl down in front of him and went to take her seat when his hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back towards him.
“Sit on my lap,” he said in a low grumble.
Ashanti’s feet carried her back to the king and she turned to sit across his lap.
“Not like that, face me.”
“My dress-”
“I don’t care.”
A chill went down her spine as she hiked her dress up over her thick thighs and straddled him. He reached for his bowl and scooped up some cobbler and ice cream, bringing it to her lips.
“Open.”
Her lips parted and she tasted her sugary concoction, happy it turned out how she wanted it to.
“Is it good?”
“Yes.”
“Is it sweet?” He asked, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling her scent.
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Feed it to me.”
They took turns feeding eachother the cobbler, licking the melted ice cream from each other's lips. With each bite, the king’s hand travelled further and further up Ashanti’s thigh, gripping her tight and causing her to let out the tiniest whimpers.
He could smell her arousal and it drove him crazy. When his hands travelled up to her hips and felt no underwear she looked at him and winked, flipping the switch within him. His eyes turned almost completely black as his fingers trailed across her body directly to her clit. Ashanti jumped, but his other arm held her down. His fingers circled her clit, making more wetness drip out of her. She suckled on his bottom lip and moved her hips to get him to stop teasing her, but he wasn’t a fan of her defiance.
“Did I say move?”
His voice sent a chill down Ashanti’s spine and straight to her pussy. Another rush of liquid escaped her and T’Challa chuckled darkly.
“You like when I tell you what to do, don't you?” He asked, one hand still teasing her clit while the other gripped her jaw forcing her to look into his eyes. She nodded desperately and he laughed in her face. “I know you do, kitten. You know what I want you to do for me?”
She struggled to compose herself, his teasing becoming too much for her to handle.
“What? I’ll do anything”
“I know you will. Cum on my fingers when I fucking say so, do you understand me?” She nodded as his fingers moved down to her now dripping hole, three of them opening her up and sliding in deep while the heel of his hand pushed into her clit. He slapped her ass with his free hand. “I said, do you understand me?”
“Y-yes.”
He curled his fingers inside her, alternating between quick and slow thrusts, all while dragging the pads of his fingers across her g-spot. More wetness pooled between her legs as he dug in her, causing her to grind into his hand for even more friction.
“There you go, nasty girl. Work for it, mhm…” He licked from her collarbone to her ear before nibbling on her lobe, making her release a moan from deep within her core. “You sound so beautiful, I’m going to make you sound like this all night. Are you ready for me?”
She held on tight to his shoulders and rocked into him more, the tension building in her body.
“Yes, kumkani.”
He growled and pulled his fingers from her, placing his hands under her thighs and picking her up while she whined at the empty feeling.
“Where’s your room?” He spoke into her ear as she wound her hips against his and sucked on his neck. She pointed up the stairs, but her lack of communication frustrated him more. He needed to be inside her now.
He backed her into an empty wall and pushed his pelvis into hers. Her eyes rolled back at the feel of his third leg against her pussy.
“You want it?” He teased. She nodded vigorously as he unzipped his pants and pushed them to his feet. “Do something about it.”
She reached between them and almost cried at the feeling of his hot, pulsating dick in her hands. She couldn’t close her small hands around it, and she wondered briefly about how it would fit in her mouth. She felt the throbbing veins up and down his shaft and his length would surely fill her to the brim. She swiped her thumb over the precum oozing out the head of his dick and brought it to her lips to taste. The sweet saltiness of him set her off, and she lifted her body up before sliding down on his length.
She was too eager to be bothered by the stretch of her pussy, just wanting him inside her.
He moaned into her ear and gripped her ass tight as she enveloped him in her warmth. He wanted to keep his composure, but it slipped more with every bounce of her juicy ass onto his pelvis. The thickness of his dick pulling her clit combined with the edging from earlier had her on the verge of an orgasm already.
After letting her get used to his size, the king decided to stop playing nice and pushed her back into the wall, staring deep into her eyes as he thrust into her body. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she held on for dear life as he busted her wide open.
“Oooh, T’Challa!”
“Hm? You like when I do that? What about this?” He lifted her and brought her down onto him, the force causing her to yell out his name between thrusts.
“T-Chal-la, oh-my-Bast-it-feels-so-good. Mmm I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” She barely rushed out before her muscles tightened and released around him, both of them moaning out in pleasure. He continued to hold her while they stared into each other’s eyes forehead to forehead, breathing heavily, until she broke the silence.
“Can I taste you?” she whispered and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He placed her down and she immediately sank to her knees, licking her essence off of his dick.
His hand went to the back of her head as she sucked the tip and rotated her two hands along his shaft. After a few moments she grew brave and pushed him further into her throat, making his toes curl. She was down to one hand and decided to go even deeper. Resting her jaw, she brought her free hand to stroke his shaft while alternating between licking his balls and softly bringing them into her mouth. Her lips made their way back to his pulsating dick, his chorus of “fuck yes, just like that” and “suck that dick” lost on her ears while she focused all her will power on swallowing the monster before her. Her mouth slowly crept over his tip and down his shaft as far down as she went before. She swallowed and took him in deeper, nose almost touching his pubic hair.
“Fuck!”
He wasn’t expecting that and came down her throat. She gladly swallowed every drop.
“Good girl, make sure you clean your plate for your king.” He pulled her up by her jaw and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth to taste himself on her. He slapped both her ass cheeks.
“Get in that bedroom.”
She grabbed his hand and led him to her room, her dress at her waist and those damn heels on her feet. Ashanti had a feeling those would be staying on most of the night.
When she opened her door, he only looked around briefly before grabbing her by her throat and licking her neck. Her pussy throbbed once more.
“Why do you like when I’m rough with you?” He growled in her ear as he unzipped her dress. “Answer me.”
“My king, I-I don’t know but it turns me on.”
“You don’t know, huh? That’s not a good enough answer. Bend over, grab your ankles. Let’s see if you can figure it out” His hand pushed on her back, making her bend at the waist before he slammed into her, taking everything she had to give. His hips slowed down and stirred inside her, making her release a long, deep moan each time he pushed deeper.
Tears came to her eyes from how he was hitting it. She had never felt anything so deep or so thick inside her, and the way he was moving made her cry out to the heavens.
“Bast!”
“She’s not here love, you’re at my mercy,” He chuckled and grabbed her neck, pulling her up to whisper in her ear as his hips sped back up and she grabbed onto the back of his head for stability. His left hand had a tight grip on her hip, but his right hand came up to tweak her nipples as he slowed his strokes back down, circling his hips.
“Yes, kumkani” she moaned out on repeat like a broken record. He had hit that spot in her that shut her brain down, making her putty in his hands.
“I’m going to ask you again sithandwa, why do you like it when I’m rough with you? Hmm? I know it’s hard to think right now, but try for your kumkani. We talked about it before. Why do you want me to treat you this way?”
“B-because I’m my kumkani’s little slut.”
He smiled as wide as the cheshire cat and stilled inside her, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.
“That’s my good girl, my little slut. You like being kumkani’s little slut?”
“Mmm, yes. Please, make me your slut kumkani. I’ll be good.”
He pulled out and slapped her ass.
“Prove it. Good girls ride dick.” He laid back on the bed, hands behind his head as he watched her stand over him and squat onto his throbbing member. He moaned as she dropped her weight on him and picked it back up repeatedly, tightening her kegel muscles on the way back up each time. She eventually dropped down to her knees to give her thighs a break and leaned back towards his legs, giving him a full view of her body as he watched himself go in and out of her.
“Shit, Ashanti.”
She slowed down and sat up, circling her hips and gripping him tight before leaning over and letting him suck on her nipples. She let him have his fill then whispered in his ear, “Am I a good girl yet?”
His mouth left her breasts and he pulled her into a deep kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance with his eventually winning again. He pulled back to take in her beautiful face that was twisted in pleasure, his black eyes staring deep into her brown ones.
“The best.”
The king wrapped his arms around Ashanti’s waist and spread his legs before thrusting up into her, catching her off guard. Her body succumbed to his and another wave of intense pleasure washed over her as she came once more. He fucked her all the way through her orgasm, refusing to let up.
“Do you have one more in you kitten? Can you be a good girl and cum again for your kumkani?”
“T’Challa, I-”
“Who?!” he hooked his arms under her knees and flipped them over, driving his big dick deep into her guts with a roll of his hips.
Tears came to her eyes and he wiped them away, pausing his movements. “Are you ok, love? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I...it just feels so good. You feel so good inside me, baby.”
“Do I?” he teased as he thrust impossibly deeper inside her, watching as the tears sprang from her eyes, kissing them away.
“Yessss,” she hissed as their foreheads came together so they could stare deep into each other’s souls as their climaxes approached.
He pushed her legs back further and she felt him drop all his weight into her pussy over and over and over and she left her body, tears running from her eyes and juices seeping from her pussy. Her head rolled back and a faint smile appeared on her face as he fucked her stupid. Her nails dug into his back as his hips continued to thrust into her from above and he left his signature on her neck. He felt her body tensing up again and he decided to stop delaying his release before he killed the poor girl.
“Kitten.” He said to her in a soft, sweet voice, slowing down his strokes and just grinding in her deep. She struggled to focus on him but when their eyes met, he leaned in for a soft kiss. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. You take me so well baby, it’s like your pussy was made for me. You said I could cum inside you, will you still let your kumkani cum deep inside that pussy?” They had already discussed this, knowing it would come up at some point. Luckily they both had their STI prevention shots and they were both on birth control, so since they shared the same kink they decided to go for it.
“Yesss, please kumkani. Cum inside me,” Ashanti said as she locked her legs around his waist.
The king’s thrusts picked up the pace, elevating them both to their highs. The tension rose in their bodies, Ashanti scrambling to hold him closer, and T’Challa struggling to contain his strength so as not to cause real damage. When the dams broke, their bodies shook violently and he filled her up while she spilled all over him. He slowly thrusted into her as his dick continued to pump her pussy full of him. His thrusts slowed to a stop as she came down from her climax. He leaned back and opened his mouth and let a glob of spit fall onto her clit before lightly rubbing it in with his thumb.
“T’Challaaaaa!” she whined, feeling overwhelmed. He smirked and stopped, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead then her nose, then her lips.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he said as he continued to lightly kiss around her face and neck. Her legs still hadn't let him go, so his hips churned inside her very slowly, grinding just enough to keep her turned on but not enough to over stimulate her. “You just can’t let me go, huh?”
“Uh-uh,” she pulled him to her soft lips, only allowing them to slightly graze each other. “You feel too good.” She whined.
“Oh I do? You love when I’m deep in that pussy, don't you? You want me in there all the time? Want me to slut you out whenever I fucking feel like it?”
“Mmmm, yes kumkani.”
“Good girl. Now let me go baby, I’m not done with you.”
“T’Cha-” She was cut off by a deadly glare. “Kumkani, my pussy is tired.”
“I know kitten, this will help her feel better.”
Ashanti slowly unraveled her legs and moaned as his dick slowly left her, pulling on her clit and her g-spot on the way out. The emptiness she felt was soon replaced by the feeling of his copious amounts of cum dripping from her hole.
T’Challa moaned at the sight then leaned in for a taste, causing Ashanti to gasp unexpectedly. His tongue moved up and down her pussy, collecting his cum and spreading it all over. He sucked on her clit and his fingers slowly found their way inside her to rub on her spot before his finger and tongue switched. He tongue fucked her walls while his thumb strummed her clit lazily, her legs twitching on every upstroke . His moans of pleasure pushed her further to her climax and when he started slurping his cum out of her pussy she lost it, body convulsing and cumming all over his chin. He slurped up their combined fluids and brought his lips to hers, transferring their cum to her mouth for her to taste. She swallowed and stared into his eyes, bottom lip between her teeth. He rolled over beside her and they faced each other.
“Don’t look at me like that. You already won't be walking tomorrow, but I can make it a week,” T’Challa warned and the two broke out into laughter.
“Wow, just...that was...wow,” Ashanti said, still processing what just happened.
“Is something wrong? Was I too rou-” Ashanti shut him up with a kiss.
“It was amazing. And oh my Bast, you are nasty as fuck.”
T’Challa chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, dear.”
Ashanti stilled then looked up at him in fear and arousal, both of which were made worse by the bloodthirsty look on his face.
“What else are you into?”
The two lovers laid there and talked for hours, only pausing for a brief moment while Ashanti went to the bathroom. They talked about their kinks and exploring more together. They spoke about their futures, their bucket lists, their families, and more. The conversation veered from comical to serious to heart wrenching to seductive all within the span of a few hours.
They eventually fell asleep with T’Challa’s strong arms wrapped around Ashanti’s waist, just like the last time they slept in each other’s arms and hopefully just like all the times they’ll lay together in the future.
Our love
Your love
On me
Our love
My love
In you
Our love
Your love
On me
Our love
My love
Ooh!
(Did you ever think that, maybe
Maybe it's destiny?
Maybe it's destiny that brought us together)
Next Chapter
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hello i just saw ur hephaestus headcanons post nd was wondering if u had any others for the greek gods? particularly artemis? 👉👈
right on time nonnie, i just finished a demeter one (currently in drafts!)
if it is artemis you ask, it is artemis you will receive. let's see what we have here, shall we?
loves preserved meats
like dried pork belly, cured sausage, quail, all that
a big forager. it sometimes gives apollo heart attacks when she just bites into a random plant, until he identifies it and cools down immensely
hates costco so. much. what's with fucking bagged up broccoli? do you NEED to wrap those things in plastic THAT many times?
but she sees the big scale products they offer that will greatly reduce waste for businesses (but still. bagged broccoli??)
artemis thinks jewelry is impractical and annoying but she does wear a ring apollo gave her
also finds nail polish to be a waste of time but she's had great conversations with apollo and aphrodite while doing nails
always has a knife SOMEWHERE
loves leggings
owns at least two puffy jackets
artemis has warmed up to hera a little more and understands her thinking but still holds a grudge
probably owns combat boots
she thinks the nerf bows are kind of hilarious
prefers hard mattresses because she's more used to sleeping on the ground
and that's about it. it's shorter than my usual (i mean, my usual is an essay) but hopefully that's sufficient!
#howd i do folks#like i said#headcanon hub#greek mythology#greek gods#greek myths#artemis#headcanons#asks
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@beingatoaster So here’s my buggy playbook
First of all, sorry, this sucks to deal with. A lot. For me, I own a duplex and live in the top half and my downstairs tenants got an infestation that they ignored and they came up through the walls at me. So if you’re early on catching it you hopefully won’t have to deal with the haul we had. My apartment cleared up after a few months of treatment, but downstairs took a long while because they were literally beneath the baseboards.
-As you are aware bedbugs fucking suck. They’re nasty little things that are going to make you constantly on edge and feel awful. They are hard to get rid of and hibernate, so you’re gonna be paranoid for a while. So, this is gonna suck to deal with. -jazz hands- This part isn’t helpful, it’s just to affirm that things suck and it’s okay to feel bad about them.
-This isn’t your fault. You’re not dirty or gross or anything else that your brain might be telling you because society tells anyone who has bugs that it’s their fault. They’re very hardy bugs that can survive a lot and they can sneak ito your house from anywhere, from a hotel you stay in to a car you ride in. I saw one crawling across the gas station counter once. You just got buggies, don’t let it get you down more than you have to.
-When looking for an exterminator ask them about their guarantees and what they do if an infestation isn’t cleared by the initial sprays. My company came in and did three sprays (one every two weeks, it fucking sucked) and then every month after that did a maintenance spray until we felt comfortable that the bugs weren’t hiding. I can’t say anything about heat treatments because for the size of my house, they were too expensive to do. If you have breathing issues you’re gonna wanna be out of the house for about an hour after, and don’t sit on the furniture for a few hours. If you have pets, same deal. Get them out of the area and don’t let them on the furniture till it dries.
-The initial paranoia about all your soft stuff hits hard. We kept all our furniture (My friends eventually got rid of their bed frame with drawers and swapped to a wire one.) and our mattresses. But couches, chairs, all that, we saved. They’re going to go where you are when you’re sleeping a lot, so while a few might be in/on your couches or chairs, get them sprayed and don’t use them for a while and any survivors will come looking for you.
-Your bed is gonna feel like enemy territory for a while and I”m sorry about that. I’m not sure what kind of bed frame you have, but the easiest ones to clear an infestation from are ones that have four legs. If you have a pedestal bed and you want to keep it, you may want to temporarily dissemble it, put it somewhere away from people, and have it sprayed and wait them out. Get a cheap wire one and use until you’re comfortable. Pull your bed frame from the wall, tuck any sheets into the bed and don’t let them drag on the floor. You can get these little plastic bowl things with sticky tape to put around the feet of your bed, and if you pull your bed away from the walls the only way the buggies can get t you is by a tactical drop from the ceiling which is pretty rare for them to do.
- So your mattress gets it’s own little sub heading. I couldn’t afford to buy one because spraying was expensive and I was broke. So if you wanna keep your mattress you’re gonna wanna spring for one of the mattress encasement. I got mine off of amazon, they’re basically thick mattress... bags that have a zipper that you zip tie closed. I had my mattress sprayed once, put that on, and I’ve never looked at it again. You’ll need one for a box spring too if you have one of those. I also got ones for my pillows. To avoid spraying those since, y’know, face full of pestistice is bad, I started tossing my pillows in the dryer for an hour whenever the bug spray came. Bugs don’t like high sustained heat or sudden sustained cold.
- For anything washable that you’re worried might have bugs, wash on high heat and dry on high heat for an hour. Bedbugs can adapt, but the can’t deal with sustained heat. For anything not washable that you’re worried about, put it in the freezer and leave it there for a few days. They can adapt, but sudden sustained cold kills them rather than has them hibernate. If it can’t be washed and it can’t fit in the freezer and it can’t be sprayed, isolate it. Keep it in a contained space that you use less frequently until about a year has passed.
-I know some peope have had good luck with using dimatecous earth in problem spots (I know my friends were using it around their bed) but I personally didn’t use it so I can’t judge.
IThis is about all I can remember, I’m also super tired so if I missed anything or if you have any questions, holla
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FIC: Snowdrifts ch.7 (spicyhoney)
Summary: Uncle Red is always up for babysitting, but is pitting Red against baby Snow the wisest choice?
Tags: Spicyhoney, Rescued Child, Babybones, First Time Parenthood, Idiots to Lovers
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Read it here!
~~*~~
No matter what the boss thought, Red couldn't actually read anybody's mind. Not that he minded keeping up the illusion, nah, that was pretty fucking useful and back in Underfell, his bro wasn't the only person mostly convinced that Red was able to look right into the dirtiest corners of their mind and see what dust bunnies were lying around.
It was a perk he was gonna miss, at least for a little while. Shouldn’t be hard to get reestablished around these parts, hell, prolly a lot easier. His bro might be having some regrets about abandoning the old place, but Red was more’n happy to set up as a cuckoo in their shiny new nest. The rubes in this ‘verse were ripe for a little mystery and already the gossip was flying about the kid, where she was from and who played incubator. Smart money was on his bro as mama; word around town was that Stretch’s slutty ways took a downward trend a few months back and everyone was real damn interested in seeing who the local bird went cold turkey for.
Red gave ‘em a week before the locals started showing up with casseroles and curiosity. Never underestimate boredom and a hearty rumor mill when making plans. Red never did and he would bet good money he’d have the folks in this Snowdin watching him with awe and suspicion in no time.
Well, more than they already were.
Except Muffet but that didn't surprise him none. Multiverse theory could go hang, he figured she was gonna be a sharp slice of cheddar no matter what world she was from. ‘Least if this one was gonna suck you dry it only meant your wallet. Gal had an eye for talent, he’d give her that, hired him on right away, and Red was looking forward to a long, mutually benefitting relationship.
Anyway, mind reading, eh, not so much. What Red had was a carefully cultivated skill in knowing when people were carrying around a steaming load of bullshit. He'd been learning that knack since he was in short pants even if his pants only got wider over the years, not longer, and right now, there was a week-old baby bones trying to convince him her little soul was gonna break if she didn’t have her daddy close by to lug her around.
Kid was putting on a hell of a show. Lying on her back in a pile of blankets on the living room floor that was also Red’s part-time bedroom, feet kicking up a storm and her little hands clenched in fists that she waved like a prizefighter. Fat tears were rolling down her chunker cheekbones as she howled, awful loud for someone without a set of lungs. Kid was pissed, sure, but pissed ain’t hurt and Red might’ve been kinda impressed by her tenacity if it weren’t for the simple fact that his bro needed some rest. Here they were in marshmallow world with two extra bods helping foot the bill and his bro was still exhausting himself trying to do everything. Difference was, here Red had Stretch running interference and between the two of them, they’d shake the ants out of his brother’s pants.
‘Course, Stretch had a different way of doing it and there was a thought Red wasn’t gonna examine too close. His baby bro’s pants and Stretch could do whatever they wanted out of his line of sight.
Only problem was, the two of them were only upstairs. Kid was getting pretty loud and Red scooped her up into his lap, giving her a gentle bounce. “gonna have to do better than that, snowmonster,” Red told her. “i survived my bro and he’s an expert pain in the ass.”
The wails paused as his voice caught the baby’s attention. Snow goggled at him her mouth still open, and after a moment the cries began again, this time with an uncertain waver.
“nope, try again.” He propped his chin in his hand. "you got my bro fooled, but i ain't the gullible type. might try a little sweettalking, sweetheart.”
A short, shrill cry only got her a chuckle. "sorry, honey, it ain't gonna work on me."
The tears dried up pretty damn fast without someone to break down the dam. Kid hadn’t quite given up yet, Underfell tenacity must be built-in from creation. She gurgled out a pleading cry, her tiny hands reaching for Red’s face. He let her pat his cheekbones, wincing at a particularly firm little slap.
He took the offending hand and gave it a loud kiss, earning a smile for his troubles. "nah, your daddy bears are tired, kiddo, they need a nap. you got 'em both dancing like popcorn on a hot plate, not bad for your first trick."
Hm, daddy? Paps hadn't been too clear on that yet, and fuck them all anyway for renaming his little brother Edge, keerist, might as well name him Gloomy Ass Kissy Pants. Already took himself too fucking serious as it was.
Eh, that probably wasn’t gonna change, Red didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that; he’d been that way since he was about the size of this one, and someday he was gonna show Stretch the pics that were saved on his phone of his lil bro back when he was little. Might have to wait until they were more settled in for that, though.
He’d give it a week.
Red looked down at the baby in his arms, her wide, pale eye lights gazing back up at him. Always watching, this one, learning, figuring things out. When she learned how to crawl, she was gonna be an ever-fucking nightmare for his bro, exactly how Paps had been ever since the very instant he got mobile. Kid hadn’t stopped since.
Red couldn’t wait. Payback really was a bitch and this bitch was gonna slap it right on his little brother’s ass.
“tell you what,” Red told her, “let’s get you a snack, kiddo, and see what other toys the mutts brought over for you, how about that?”
Kid was clearly disgruntled, but she accepted the bottle when Red handed it over, suckling noisily. Red dug into the bag that was still in the corner. Blocks were well and good, but he’d bet there was something in all this junk that made some real noise.
~~*~~
Despite his brother's innuendo when he’d shooed the two of them upstairs for a nap before another night of baby-watching began, there was nothing sexual going on in the bedroom and for that, Edge was guiltily grateful. He would admit to being exhausted, his first day as a caretaker left him as weary as if he’d spent a day running the traplines, and if Stretch had given any indication at all that he was interested in sex, Edge would have been torn over his response.
The answer was a difficult one. On one hand, Stretch had been utterly appalled even a hint of the idea that Edge might pay some of the debt he owed the Swap brothers in that fashion, but on the other, Edge did feel some sense of obligation to Stretch that made him reluctant to beg off. Best not to say that aloud, it wasn't a difficult guess that the very notion would upset Stretch a great deal.
There was also the fact that they'd been sleeping together for some months now, anything at this point would have a diminished value.
Not that it mattered in this situation. Stretch didn’t give any indication that he was hoping for anything past a solid eight hours of putting the mattress to its more traditional use and barring that, at least a couple hours of decent rest.
Still, Edge couldn’t help teasing, “Are you sure you want to use our time to sleep? My brother seemed to think we could make other use of it.”
There was a tiny sprinkle of bright freckles across Stretch’s nasal nodule and Edge could privately admit that the way they scrunched together when his face twisted was rather adorable.
"baby, you know i'm always up for it," Stretch grimaced. "but i don't think i can get it up right now. unless you want to drive…?"
Tempting as the idea of being inside Stretch was, whatever desire the image managed to rouse was closer to a wet firecracker than a spark. "To be honest, I think I'd rather nap," Edge confessed. If he even could, through the closed door he could hear Snow’s wails and it was only his brother’s firm edict that they were not to come back downstairs for at least two hours that was keeping him in this room at all. The penalty for disobeying a direct order from Red was not usually a subtle revenge and Edge didn’t care to see what sort of creativity his brother might come up with in new surroundings.
"nap it is then." Stretch scrambled into the bed, sprawling across the mattress. He turned back to Edge, both arms spread wide, "since we ain’t taking off, you may as well come on in for a landing!"
Edge rolled his eye lights but crawled in with him. Stretch squawked as Edge firmly rolled him over on his side and snugged up behind him. He murmured against the smooth, sensitive bone at the base of Stretch’s skull. "I believe it's my turn to be the big spoon."
The way Stretch shifted against him nearly made him rethink his urge for sleep. Stretch laughed, a touch unsteadily, "sweetheart, you can handle my silverware anytime you like. after a nap."
After a nap, yes. The crying from downstairs had petered out and Edge pulled the blankets over them both and settled in. Napping was still unfamiliar to him and he didn't sleep so much as drift, resting in the fog of exhaustion. That alone was an unaccustomed pleasure and there was no telling how long he drifted before he resurfaced to unexpected movement.
The faint shudder of Stretch in his arms didn't wake him so much as nudge him from that fog and the loss left him disoriented and surly. Edge pushed up on an elbow, frowning down at the other skeleton and his irritation faded as he caught his breath at what he saw.
Stretch was crying. He was curled up on the mattress, still sleeping while tears seeped from his closed sockets and left wet trails down his cheekbones. His breath was clotted with the quiet sobs racking him and without the pressure of Edge’s arm holding him down, he curled up tighter into a fetal ball, his long legs drawn up against his skinny ribcage as he wept at whatever his dreams were showing him.
No amount of rest was worth this kind of pain and Edge gave him a gentle shake, saying softly, "Stretch? Stretch, wake up."
He did not anticipate Stretch lurching up and scrambling away from him, his joints lit with magic and his eye lights flaring wildly as he flung both hands out as if to ward him away, brilliant orange engulfing his fingertips like candle flames.
Edge kept still, waiting for the dregs of sleep to clear away. Long experience with his brother’s occasional bad turns at night had taught him that while his HP could easily survive an attack, the guilt that followed was always so much worse.
Sure enough, recognition slowly filled Stretch’s gaze, followed almost immediately by horror. Stretch sank back against the wall with a heartfelt groan, the flames of his magic extinguishing as he buried his face into his hands. "fuck, i am so sorry."
"If I don't need to thank you for all you’ve done, then you don't owe me any apologies for this. Come here?" Edge held his arms open in gentle offering and after a moment, Stretch did, crawling back into his arms. His bones were chilled, clacking against Edge's as he shivered, and Edge tucked the blankets back around them both.
"There we are," Edge said, as softly as he would have to Snow. He set his chin on the top of Stretch’s skull, careful not to let it dig in painfully. "Was it a bad dream?"
"more like a memory." Stretch shifted against him, his cheekbone pressed to Edge's sternum. He did not look up as he asked softly. "do you remember anything about the lab?"
"Only from recently,” Edge admitted, “not as a child. My brother doesn't talk about it much, but I do know I wasn't there for more than a couple days before he fled with me in tow."
"yeah." Stretch said nothing else, no commiseration, and Edge did not ask it of him. He didn't need to press for an unneeded explanation, not when the answer was so obvious. Memory dredged up by those numbers on one of Snow's fragile ribs, engraved too deeply to easily heal. He only held Stretch close, petting from the back of his skull down his cervical vertebra with gentle fingertips as those bone-deep shudders slowly eased.
Petting shifted to a careful massage, rubbing at the delicate cartilage between the spinal joints until all the tension wound through Stretch faded, leaving him as boneless against Edge as a skeleton could manage. He sighed, his warm breath gusting humidly over Edge’s collarbone, and his long limbs wound around Edge in a bony sort of cage, loosely holding on.
Edge was drowsing himself, his stroking gone idle, when Stretch spoke again in a low, barely audible mumble that Edge nevertheless heard very clearly, snapping awake as his soul began to pound in his ribcage. Couched on an exhale, three words that were so complex in their very simplicity.
“hnnnn,” Stretch sighed out, “i love you.”
There in the darkness, Edge lay with wide sockets staring up at the ceiling as every thought of sleep fled to the corners of his mind, leaving it utterly empty. Obviously, such a declaration required a response, and yet his thoughts were a panicked blank, his hands still on Stretch and surely he was already regretting saying such a thing, surely he was rethinking his choice as Edge only lay here like a useless fool, unable to reply.
“Stretch,” Edge choked out, faltering, and before he could manage to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth came an unexpected reply. A faint snore that rumbled through them both as Stretch snuggled in closer, his sockets closed in sleep.
Edge almost sagged in relief, letting out a slow, shaky breath. But he knew the reprieve was a brief one. That declaration would come again, he should have already been expecting it, and he would need a ready reply.
He wasn’t fool enough not to know what reply Stretch wanted. He just wasn’t sure it was one he was able to give and what consequences would come if he couldn’t? Their place here was so precarious despite what the Swap brothers said, they couldn’t be expected to stay here if there was resentment between them. Snow needed a safe home, free of arguments and snide verbal attacks and Edge meant to see she had one. No matter what it cost him.
tbc
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Alright then here's another ask you can answer as crack ! What would it be like to share a bed with the men from the trash quartet ? Not really to get down to kinky business, just you know ye old trope of "oopsie looks like there is only one bed in this hotel room"...I'm so cliche Imma go hide in a hole (if Illumi isn't already in it)
Thank you so much for the ask! I don’t know if I answered how in the way you hope but it was very fun to write! I just wanted to make drabbles for the trash but Hisoka end up taking too long. I’d like to say I’d do all of them eventually but now I don’t make promise I’m not sure to keep. I didn’t get it proof read so it might be worse than usual.
WARNING: NONE OMG AM I WRITING FLUFF NOW?????
Hisoka:You paused with your fist mid air. Were you sure of this? Really very sure? It looked like an incredibly bad idea now didn’t it? You were half tempted to just go back, the other half was your muscles screaming exhaustion and the promise of a comfy bed just a door away.
You took a deep breath and knocked.
“Do you want something?” Hisoka’s infuriating smile greeted you as soon as he opened the door. Yup, bad idea.
“You got the last room…and… you said I… we could share,” Here you go, you’ve been so cocky earlier laughing at even the idea of sleeping in the same room as him and look at you now, not even looking him in the eyes, stuttering like a child .
When the clerk told you Hisoka just booked the last room and there was none free unless a last minute cancellation you were still pretty confident.A dozen room or so, you were certain at least one person wouldn’t show up and at this hour you’d be fast asleep, sinking in a soft and warm mattress. Tough luck.
“Oh? What made you change your mind? Didn’t you said you’d prefer to, and I quote “Sleep deep in the asshole of a musty boar” than share a room with me?” he emphasized the musty boar part with a nose wrinkle.
Well you did said that. Shit. It’s fine, you could just go back to the lobby and sleep on a chair. It’s already been 4 nights sleeping in the forest, what’s one more? At least you’re not in the cold anymore. No way you’ll apologize to him. It’s fine even if he’s going to enjoy the comfort of a bed and you won’t. The last part made you irrationally angry. He had to endure the same condition than you during the mission but he always looked fresh and rested, you needed a good sleep way more than him.You chewed your lips looking down, thinking what’s more worth to you right now. The bed or your pride.
“So what? Are you so petty you’re taking your offer back for that?” Pride it is then. “Besides there’s no boar asshole around for me to sleep in, you’re the second worst choice,” you added, doubling down on the rudeness. You’re already fucked, at least it’s best to vent than to grovel and be said no.
Hisoka looked at you for a second and lifted a hand to his mouth and…laughed, his shoulder shaking and his other arm gripping at the door frame for support.You blinked once, twice, shrugged and decided is was as good as any “we’re good” declaration.
“I knew you wouldn’t hold a grudge,” you grinned and patted him on the shoulder on your way inside.
“You’re really shameless, you know that?” Hisoka chuckled and closed the door behind you.
“Thanks,” you threw your bag in a corner of the room and prepared yourself to jump on the inviting bed wen something stopped you by grabbing your collar. Hisoka was holding you with a scowl on his face.
“Don’t even think of touching the covers before taking a shower,” he sighed when you looked at him quizzically, “you’re dirty,’ he concluded.It was really not that bad, just some road dust, mud and maybe a bit of dried blood. You sniffed yourself and you’ve known worse, you didn’t understand why he was so fussy about so little.
“I’ll take one in the morning, I’m too tired now! And we’ve bath this morning in the lake so I’m good,” you lose your jacket so Hisoka didn’t have a grip to prevent you for reaching the bed, you jumped, ready to be engulfed by silk and feather. And got pulled back. Landing painfully on your ass. Ah, Bungee Gum. So close to your goal your forgot about that.
“My, my. What I’m going to do with you,” he said crouching beside you and poking at your cheek “I could pin you to the wall all night. I’m sure your cursing would lull me to sleep in no time,” you didn’t even tried to struggle, you knew it’ll only exhaust you more. Glaring didn’t take much effort though. “Or you could go take a shower like I asked and enjoy a good night sleep. Your choice,” Hisoka wasn’t impressed with your glaring and kept poking at your cheek, dodging every time you tried to swat his hand.
“Fine, you win…” begrudgingly you stood up and walk in the direction of the shower.
“Oh and there’s no use if you put back your clothes, there’s bathrobes in the drawer.” he pointed.
You almost fell asleep standing down under the hot water but it was worth it. It eased the pain in your sore body a bit and you felt the knot on your shoulder untangled. With a content sigh you washed away the rest of the shampoo and turn off the water. You stepped out and enveloped yourself in a towel and brushed your hair. It did feel good and Hisoka won’t have anything to argue about now. The bed was yours.
“Much better,” Hisoka hummed when you exited the bathroom, nodding appreciatively at how the bathrobe was clinging at your still damp body. “Should we go to bed now? We’re not in an hurry tomorrow but it’s best to be on our way as early as possible” he noted.
“Yeah, yeah you don’t have to tell me twice. I’m ready to pass out,” you grumbled, falling on the mattress. Finally, softness, fluffiness, everything was perfect, this right now was the best day of your life you had no doubt about it. You rolled on yourself with as much grace as a baby penguin and got under the covers. You smiled appreciating your body getting warmer and the softness of the sheets on your skin.
It was a perfect moment, you were so close to attain bliss. So why does Hisoka had to be naked right now?
“Are you kidding? Can’t you at least keep your underwear??” you snapped. You just wanted to sleep, now you’re going to be too preoccupied about his dick flapping around under the cover to really rest. You knew it was a bad idea, it was going too smoothly so far, there was no chance you could have a pleasant uneventful night.
“Do I need to remind you that’s my bed you’re getting comfortable in right now? If how I sleep displease you you’re free to sleep somewhere else,” he turned off the light and lied beside you. Maybe if it was before you were already tucked in you would have slammed the door and go find a corner to spend the night but now it was way too hard to leave your comfy nest.
“Don’t try anything weird,” you warned, and you knew it was like asking the sun to stop shinning.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he whispered in a low voice way too close to your neck.
Slowly you started to drift away, your body relaxing while you lost focus on what was around you. When he’d put his hand on your hips you said nothing, same as when he placed his head on the crook on your neck. Giving him attention would only encourage his teasing, as long as he’d let you sleep you decided to not think too hard about it, it’s just Hisoka being Hisoka. Nothing to get worked up about. When he pressed himself against you, your patience ran out and you throw an elbow as hard as you could in the direction of his ribs.He intercepted the blow effortlessly, he was waiting for it.
“Cut the crap Hisoka, I want to sleep. Don’t be an asshole,” you barked, scouting away for him as much as you could.
“The bed isn’t big you know,” he whined, “There was barely enough space for me to be comfortable when I was alone, but with you…” he sighed.
“You’re full of shit,” you answered.
He’d find more and more excuses to…to what exactly? You didn’t know but you you were sure if this continues you wouldn’t get any rest and you were too tired to argue all night long.
“Put back your underwear and you can play big spoon all you want,” sometimes you have to lose the battle to win the war and now was one of those moment. If he’s satisfied with that it’d have been worth it.
After a moment of silence you heard Hisoka getting up and you tried really hard to fall asleep in the short respite.
“All done, are you happy now?” you could hear his grin and it was pissing you off.
Hisoka came back next to you pressing himself closer, one harm around your waist and placing another under your neck.Is he a fucking octopus you thought when he start putting a leg between yours and encircling your thigh with the other. You could barely move and you weren’t much comfortable.
“How am I suppose to sleep when you’re trying to smother me,” you tried to wiggle a bit to get more room but it was futile.
“You said I could play big spoon all I want,” he held you closer ,humming when you tried to get away. “Although, I should warn you,” he breathed in your ear, “if you keep moving so much I’m not sure I’d be able to calm down.”Immediately you stilled yourself. Slowly, without rubbing on anything you wouldn’t want to awaken, you tried to find a good position.
Hisoka chuckled and turned you around so you’d face him. Having your head on his shoulder was surprisingly comfortable and you were able to put a bit of distance with his lower half. For a moment you struggled to find where to put your arm but he took it and put it around his waist.
“Better?”, he asked, gently rubbing your back . The touch was soothing and his slow breathing was lulling you to sleep.
“It would do,” you answered yawning. Hisoka was so hot, you found yourself nuzzling closer just to be more engulfed in his warmness. It was nice and snug, you didn’t even noticed falling asleep.
***********************************************
You didn’t know what time it was. It was still dark outside, it’s was too early to waking up and all you wanted was going back to sleep but you were hot. So hot.Hisoka nice warmth was now a furnace and you were sweating profusely, trying to get out of his iron grip to cool yourself a little. Kicking him didn’t work, he was still lightly snoring and the only reaction he had was to tighten his embrace.
Being agitated only made you hotter so you calmed yourself to try to think of a way to waking him.First you tried to call his name, increasingly louder but he only frowned and grumbled something. You tried biting his neck but stopped really quick when he started moaning in his sleep. Violence, in this case, was not the answer.An idea was on your mind but you were reluctant to try it, it could backfire nastily and wouldn’t let you sleep more.
After 20 minutes of suffering this heat you were ready to try anything. Carefully, you positioned yourself the best you could with the little room you had to protect your vitals and you let it out.A big wave of murderous aura poured out of you.
Hisoka eyes snapped open immediately, you barely had time to block when his hand hit, only throwing you on the opposite wall rather than taking your head off. You lied still on the floor, enjoying the coolness. Nothing broken, it was worth it.
“What are you doing?” he questioned gruffly. He was looking around, still half asleep trying to understand if the blood lust was targeting him or if there was a danger he wasn’t yet aware.
“I was too hot and you wouldn’t budge and I couldn’t wake you up,” you turned on your stomach to cool all of your sides, smiling. This time was definitely the best day of your life, if felt so good to be free. Hisoka was watching you rolling around on the floor, his brows raised high.
“Do you have any idea of how dangerous it was?” he started laughing without waiting for your answer. A real, loud, belly laugh, for once. You ignored him, your face still pressed on the cool tiles of the room.
After a while, he calmed himself and sat next to you. “Here, look,” he put his hand on your forehead, you were ready to push it away, you’ve worked hard to get cool, you didn’t want his scorching skin on yours. But the touch was fresh, nothing like how it felt a few minutes ago.
“How?” you asked.
“It’s a secret ~ ♣” he smirked, “Come back to bed, I promise it’ll be more pleasant now,” You hesitated a moment and followed him back.
He still held you but his arms were looser around you. Hisoka was more touchy, his hands trailing on your thighs, collarbone, arms… however you didn’t pushed him away. Even if he was warmer than the floor the contact was pleasant.
This time you awoke to Hisoka’s head buried in your chest, his hands resting on your ass. You punched him in the head.
“Good morning,” he crooned.
“Get the fuck off”, you couldn’t even open your eyes in peace.
“That’s so rude. You were so cute when you were asleep, clinging to me and nuzzling like a kitten,” he lifted his head to offer you his brightest smile, still holding you.
Another punch in the head and you got out of bed.
After getting yourself ready, you sat down for a coffee, Hisoka joined you on the small table, his chin resting on his hand.
“I was the one making a reservation for all the rooms available,” his tone was flat but there’s was a glimmer in his eyes. He was waiting for your reaction.
You almost spat out your drink. This fucker. This disgusting son of a bitch. Of course he would. You complained about how tired you were and how you’d kill for a night in a proper bed the last couple of days. You walked right into his play. And now he confessed to you just to get one last kick out of it.
“Good for you,” you wouldn’t get the satisfaction to let him get under your skin, “I hope you enjoyed it because it’ll freeze in hell before you get another chance.”
Hisoka stood up and gave your head a pat.
“Well, I should get some warmer clothes then.”
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hisoka#hisoka scenario#ask#hisoka morow#crackish#maybe?#it's more that the mc is a goof#that what make it so fun to write#I've forgotten how to format#I might rework it
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