#WIP Hum's house

[f1gments]

DETOUR - HAYAKAWA AKI |早川アキ (M)

You and Aki are supposed to be on your way back from a mission, but the rain that’s been pouring non-stop has Aki pulling over to the side of an empty road for safety precautions. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any sooner, so what better way to spend that time than to have sweaty, breathy, messy sex in the back seat?

MINORS DNI

Pairing: aki x fem!bodied reader

word count: 8.0k

R18, making out, smut, car sex, protected sex, semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex (towards Aki), vaginal fingering, nipple licking, cowgirl position, missionary, vaginal sex, teasing & dirty talk, softdom aki (?), boyfriend aki

he smokes for a little bit. also calls you baby a few times.

authors note: car sex fic among my list of wips that i’ve been wanting to put out for ages, so ya’ll can thank the amount of horny i had in order to push through with this fic lol. also big thank you to my darling @meownotgood for beta reading and revising! and also adding fuel to the aki horny. i give you big kith <3 <3

18+ explicit content ahead. please for the love of god DO NOT interact if you’re a minor.

Aki exhales a long, defeated sigh from the driver’s seat. 

“It looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” he says, switching the car engine off. 

It's been pouring non-stop from the moment you left the city, but the rain has only grown heavier, to the point where it's difficult to see the road — or anything, for that matter. All you can make out through the droplet-soaked windows are the elusive silhouettes of houses and the blurred lights from the street lamps. The sky is gloomy and dark, puffy gray clouds obscure the sun. 

The two of you were supposed to be on your way back to headquarters after completing a mission Makima had sent you on. According to file reports and a call she received, the Rat Devil was going around terrorizing citizens in a small district on the far outskirts of Tokyo. 

The mission itself was simple: kill the Rat Devil and report back to Makima upon confirmation of its extermination. By the time you and Aki arrived, almost half the neighborhood was killed — or rather, eaten, so there wasn't any need for search and rescue. The devil was dealt with rather easily. You and Aki would have been at headquarters and done with all of this by now, if it wasn't for the sudden rainstorm interrupting that plan. 

So, here you are, parked at the side of an empty road with Aki, biding your time until the rain stops. 

You're a little bored, sure, but this isn't all bad. It feels good to relax a bit before you have to go back to headquarters; you can already see the giant stack of paperwork waiting for you. 

You hum as you shrug off your coat, before leaning your head against the headrest. You stare out the foggy window; there's a couple of houses up ahead that you can see from where you're parked, and beside them is a small playground. The whole neighborhood looks empty, as expected. You don’t think any kids will be coming out to play in this weather. 

The sound of the rain echoes a rhythmic pitter patter against the roof of the car. It's soothing, like it could lull you to sleep. You allow your tired eyes to close, and you almost drift off, but in a few moments, the sudden realization of being stuck in the rain, all alone somewhere secluded with your boyfriend begins to form an idea inside your head. 

It's not the best idea to be thinking of right now, sure. But considering it's been raining non-stop for ages now, and considering you need some way to pass the time, you wouldn't exactly say it's the worst thing you could come up with. 

You're just not sure about getting Aki to agree to it. You can already hear his response in your head: Really? You want to have sex right now? That's… We can't. Just wait until we get home. 

You've been dating Aki for an entire year now, and sex isn’t exactly new to you anymore, since you both gave each other your firsts on the fifth month of being together. But even now, Aki still blushes whenever you undress in front of him, or when you ask if you can suck him off during foreplay. 

He always tells you that you don't have to do anything for him, because he feels good just by watching you come undone on his fingers, his mouth giving you soft kisses on your clit while his tongue gives you long licks until your toes are curling as you cum. He's still the same as when you first met him, too shy to make the first move, and so dedicated to your own pleasure that he forgets about his own. 

And you know he's definitely too embarrassed to consider having sex in a place like this. You've never done anything remotely intimate with him in any place besides the bedroom. Hell, sometimes he's too embarrassed just to kiss you in public. 

You think you have an idea to convince him, though. 

You turn to look at Aki, who has one hand resting on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping a random beat against it. He rests his chin in the palm of his other hand, elbow on the side panel of the door. The rain continues to fall, drumming against the rooftop, as though it’s trying to flood the empty streets outside, to wash off all that is unjust and evil. 

Aki fidgets in the driver's seat for a moment, before you watch him pull out his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants. He lights one up with the baby blue lighter you always see him use, and then he twists the key in the ignition, putting it in accessory mode so only the lights and radio turn on. 

He rolls the window down enough for him to flick the ashes out of it, making the petrichor invade your nose for a few moments. The rich, familiar smell of smoke he exhales replaces it, the wind drifts the scent towards you, along with the faint warm and woody cologne that emanates from him. 

You gaze at his handsome features in awe, admiring his side profile; the dull luminescence overcasting a shadow on his angular jawline and high cheekbones, eyes of welded iron and a gaze just as hard — Eyes that have seen more than anyone could possibly imagine in one lifetime. An upper lip that protrudes a little further than the lower, and cheeks of dusty pink; they soften his expression, and his demeanor of steel.

You shake your head before you end up getting lost in your thoughts any further. You inhale deeply, breathing in the remainder of smoke, and the gentle scent of the cologne clinging to his clothes once again. 

“Hey, Aki…” 

His attention goes to you the second he hears your voice, deep blue eyes scanning your gentle features and your unreadable expression. He notices that you've taken your coat off. 

“Hmm, what’s wrong?” Aki replies softly. “Are you feeling warm? I can turn the air conditioning on for a bit if you’d like.” He reaches for the air conditioning valve on the dashboard, but you grab his hand to stop him, shaking your head. 

“I’m fine. It’s something else.” You peer up at him through your lashes. His hand is warm. 

“What is it?” There’s a look of genuine concern apparent on his face as Aki puts out the cigarette in the portable ashtray he carries in his jacket. He scans all the parts of your body he can see — your arms, your hands, your neck, your shoulders, trying to see if there's any injuries, worried that you might have gotten hurt from the mission earlier. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

You shake your head again with a chuckle, and you grab both of his hands, squeezing them tightly. “No, Aki. I told you, I’m fine. It’s just that...” 

You can't help but trail off; feeling a little embarrassed, you start to fiddle with his fingers, averting your eyes. 

“Spit it out already." Aki sighs impatiently, making you chuckle again. 

“So impatient.” you answer, smirking, to which Aki gives you an unamused blank stare. 

“I was thinking we could do something fun to pass the time." 

Aki raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You lean in closer, and since the space between you and him in the car isn’t very big to begin with, your lips are already inches away from his. 

You cup his chin between your finger and your thumb and whisper, “Like this…” 

At once, you've closed the distance, and your lips press softly to his. Aki's eyes widen, but soon, he's relaxing into the kiss, his shoulders slumping, his eyes fluttering shut. The smell of you consumes his senses: vanilla and lavender, utterly intoxicating. 

When the kiss deepens, he can taste the faint flavor of your lip gloss: cherry and mint. He kisses your lips over and over again like he can't get enough, soft but hungry at the same time. 

You move to climb on top of him, and Aki adjusts himself, leaning back in his seat to give you enough space to straddle him comfortably. Your tongue presses to his; you kiss languidly and deeply, taking time to explore each other’s mouths. Your lips feel so good against his own, so perfect. They're fogging up his mind, like you're demanding him to forget everything except for you — and it’s working. 

Your hands grip tightly onto his shirt as Aki skims his fingers down your shoulders and across your sides, resting them onto the curve of your waist. Right now, neither of you are thinking about getting back as soon as possible, or your lives, or anything like stupid devils and more missions. It’s just the both of you focusing on each other, and Aki’s mind is consumed only by thoughts of how good you make him feel. 

You both pull away breathlessly, foreheads resting against one another. Still catching your breath, you roll your hips into Aki's lap hesitantly, testing the waters. Aki groans, but he gives your waist a firm squeeze, stopping you from continuing. 

“We… we can’t. Not here." Aki looks at you through heavy eyelids. “Someone might see us.” 

You slide backwards a little on his lap as much as the small space will allow, until you feel the steering wheel press into your back. Your hand slowly travels up his thigh, fingers playing with the zipper of his pants. 

“Well, I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” You flash him a grin, but Aki stares back with an unamused expression. You reach up, toying with the earring on his lobe, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek. “Come on Aki, we haven’t seen another car for three hours. I doubt anyone’s going to see us in this rain.” 

Aki doesn't respond, so you take matters into your own hands: in a few seconds, you've grasped the button on his slacks and popped it open. You're tugging the zipper down, relieving some of the pressure when you hear Aki inhale sharply, his eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn't make an attempt to push you away. 

“Stop that.” 

His voice is weak, it's shaky, it lacks the bite you normally hear out of him when you're at work. And even though he's telling you to stop, Aki's body betrays him. You can feel the bulge that's forming underneath his slacks, you notice how he lifts his hips a little to make it easier for you to tug his pants down. Your smirk grows wider. 

“Do you really want me to stop?” you hum, moving closer to whisper into his ear. 

“Baby-” Aki quips sharply, almost like a warning, but you continue your ministrations; you rub where the hem of his briefs meets his stomach with your thumbs, you kiss him softly behind his ear. 

“Don’t you want me too?” You pull back to meet his eyes, and you tilt your head to the side, your lips pulling up into a coy smile. Aki's heart skips a beat at the sight. 

Aki swallows thickly. “I…” 

It’s not that he doesn’t want you. It's just that he'd much rather have you somewhere more comfortable, more familiar. When he's looking at you like he is now, his head spins with the thought of driving you home, tossing the door open only to carry you to his bedroom and pin you to the bed. He imagines your hands gripping the sheets, your voice calling his name with his head buried between your legs, his lips on your clit and his mouth on your pussy. 

No, he definitely wants you, and he can't deny it, he can't stop thinking about it now that you've got him started. 

Before Aki can give you a reply, you lean into his neck, giving him a few soft, teasing kisses on his warm skin, before you pull back and look at him again with the same imploring smile. 

Aki sighs, half in annoyance, half in submission. You can see the affection behind his eyes when he looks at you; deep down, he’s a pile of mush, unbelievably endeared to you. He’s helpless when you ask for things out of the blue like this, especially when you give him such a pleading look with those doe-like eyes. 

Aki takes in a long, steady breath before he asks, “Are you sure you want to do this here?  Wouldn’t it be better if we wait until we get home?” 

“I’m sure. Besides,” You nod softly, smiling, “Don’t you think it’s a little exciting to fuck me in the car?” 

Oh, Aki thinks it’s very exciting. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he gets a certain rush just by imagining it, it's a kind of feeling he's never felt before. His dick throbs in his briefs when he thinks of fucking you in the backseat of the company car, and in public, no less. 

Part of him is still nervous — What if you both make a mess, what if someone catches you? But another part of him wants to chase that rush, he wants to have you right here, and right now. 

He tries to temper the fog in his head, focusing on the feeling of you against him. It's difficult when his heart is thumping loud in his eardrums, and when his core is thrumming with anticipation and need.   

“I need you, Aki.” 

Sometimes, he swears you can read his mind. 

“I need you too.” he replies, and you don’t miss the faint pink color dusted on his cheekbones. Aki swallows, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Just this once. We'll do this just this once, got it?”

Aki motions his head over to the back seat, and you take the hint, quickly climbing into it. He follows suit shortly after, and everything is a blur of clothes coming off and hungry, heated and sloppy kisses. You're left in just your underwear, and Aki is left in just his loose work slacks. 

You can feel the familiar rush of white hot want course through your veins.You’re sure Aki feels the same way because in between kisses, when your hand goes back to stroking the tent in his pants, he seems to have only gotten harder. You give him one last firm squeeze, pulling away to position yourself on your knees in front of him. 

It's a tight fit; the company cars are spacious, but you're still crammed in between him and the back of the front seat, it leaves you to rest your head on his legs and press your chest to his knees. 

“What… what are you doing?” Aki stutters nervously, squirming a little in his seat when you reach for his slacks. You tug them down his legs the rest of the way until they're pooled at his ankles. 

“Making you feel good.” 

Your fingers feel warm on his skin when you push them under the waistband of his briefs. You help him out of them, his length bounces up to tap his stomach when you tug them all the way down. The sensitive, pink head tingles when it brushes against his skin, causing Aki’s entire frame to shudder with need. 

You waste no time gripping the base of his cock and spitting on the leaking tip, stroking him slowly. Aki spreads his legs a little wider for you as your palm swipes the tip, getting his length wet with your saliva and his precum; the sensation has him moaning in pleasure. 

Barely squeezing, you slowly move your hand up and down the shaft, you snicker a little when you hear him whimper slightly. You pump his cock lazily, and Aki reaches down, grabbing your arm to steady himself, thrusting his hips up into your hand, searching for more. 

And you give it to him; Aki’s head falls back against the headrest with a thud, and he grunts as you start to stroke him faster. “Feels… so good.” 

“More?” you ask, your voice husky. Aki nods feverishly in response.

“God, yes. Please. Don't stop, don't stop...” 

The slick noises filling the car and the sound of Aki's desperate begs add on to the growing ache between your legs, they mix with the echo of the rain tapping the roof of the car and the windshield. He mutters a strained fuck when you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and bring it to your warm tongue, giving the tip a tentative lick. 

“S-Shit…” Aki hisses, his breathing unsteady, “That's it… Keep going.”

At first, you start by just trailing kisses down his tip to the underside of his cock, and Aki shivers at the faint sensation. When you trail back up, starting to take him into your mouth, you feel his palm lay softly on the back of your head, and then his fingers knot themselves into your hair, gripping tightly, holding the loose strands away from your face in a makeshift ponytail. 

Aki watches you with his jaw slack, he quietly moans your name when your cheeks hollow, your head bobbing up and down his cock at a languid pace. 

Aki grips your hair a little tighter. His eyes meet yours, his gaze is heavy with lust and with love. “So good, you're doing such a good job.”

With your saliva involved, every time you suck on his cock with your lips closed, there's a nasty, loud squelch — It reminds him that this is happening right here, that you're sucking Aki's cock in the backseat. He's in so much bliss he's hardly thinking about it, he can only focus on the feeling of your tongue swirling around his dick, of your warm mouth and the tip of his cock slightly touching the back of your throat when he bucks his hips up. 

He rubs the back of your head gently, his eyelashes flutter when he looks at you. 

“Your lips… They're so pretty.” Aki tells you, and you pull away from his cock with a loud pop. 

“Yeah?” A teasing smile forms on your lips. “And you have a pretty dick.” 

Aki's cheeks instantly blossom with color, petals of dusty rose scattering across his handsome features. His pupils blow out deep, dark and wide. You've always thought Aki has the most beautiful pair of eyes, they're like a door to his soul. Pools of deep dark blue that you could drown inside if you weren’t so busy sucking the life out of him in the back of the sleek company sedan. 

You watch Aki draw his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating, before finally, he gently pushes down on the back of your head, with so little force you almost don't feel it. 

“C’mon… keep going for me, just a little bit, please. Can you do that?" His voice cracks slightly, his tone high-pitched. You smile, nodding obediently, and you move back down to wrap your warm lips around him once again. 

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice sends vibrations over Aki's cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You look up at him one last time, batting your eyelashes before sinking your mouth down on him completely, taking him all the way down your throat. Tears well at the corners of your eyes, and you shut them tight to will them away. 

Aki cries out, his thighs shaking. He stammers, “S-Shit, baby, too much, slow down...” 

He's trying his hardest not to thrust himself into your mouth. His eyes almost roll into the back of his head when he feels the tip of his cock brush the back of your throat again, and he clumsily pushes your hair behind your ears as you suck eagerly on his cock. 

It's so overwhelming, it's so much, it's more than he thinks he can take when one of your hands reaches up to grip the base of his cock, stroking in tune with your mouth, while the other massages his thigh, willing his legs to spread even further apart. But it feels so fucking good, Aki can't help but melt into you. 

“God,” he groans through heavy pants, “You take me so well, p-please, don't stop.” 

The way your hand glides up and down his cock along with your mouth is making Aki forget how to think straight. He feels dizzy, he knows he's getting close to the edge, and if he lets you keep going, he's sure he won't be able to stop himself from cumming. He grabs your wrist firmly — a silent demand to halt your actions — and he catches his breath. 

In compliance, you freeze, and Aki slips his hand up to hold the side of your face, to cup your cheek and slowly coax you up while he leans down. 

“C'mere.”

He pulls you into a fervent kiss, you press your palm to his chest and push him back into the seat until you can straddle his thighs and settle into his lap. 

Aki can taste himself on your tongue; it makes him feel high, but as you lift your hips, grinding your clothed cunt against his length, getting your underwear soaked and filthy and making Aki moan into your mouth, he suddenly stops you. He reaches down, he grabs your waist and causes you to freeze, pulling away from his lips, a confused expression on your face. 

No, no more. He needs you right now.

“I… I want to cum with you.” Aki admits, breathing hard, “I need to be inside you when I cum.” 

You nod with a gentle smile. “Okay. Of course.” 

You follow Aki's lead when he brings his palm to the small of your back, guiding you to twist and lay down in the backseat. The space is cramped, your head is propped up on the door, Aki has to slot his knee between your legs to make room for himself. The tight space makes it feel like he's even closer. 

Condensation has formed on the inside of the windows from the heat of your bodies. Aki cranes down to meet your neck. Your breath hitches at the first touch of his lips on your skin, right on your nape, and then down, his open mouth wet and warm on the flesh below your collarbone. 

“I’m gonna take your underwear off, okay?” he whispers softly without pulling away. You nod, and you lift your hips up slightly to allow him to pull down your lacy underwear. He tosses them to the side while he continues to leave gentle kisses on your chest.  

“Spread your legs open for me.” His words are like warm honey, sweet and dizzying when they drip from his lips to meet your ears. 

You obey, spreading your legs eagerly, as wide as the small space in the backseat will allow. Aki’s eyes grow dark with lust when he pulls back and sees your pretty pussy glistening in the low light, soaking wet for him — like a blooming flower, filled with sweet, sticky nectar. 

He grazes his fingers up your dripping slit, he sighs the moment he feels your slick drip out onto the digits. 

“God, you're so wet,” he croaks out, slightly breathless. His head dips, bangs hiding his face, and he tries to compose himself. “I'm gonna put one in.” 

Then, Aki is slowly pressing a finger into your tight walls, sinking it in all the way and curling it into your core, causing you to whine and arch your back, your chest pressing up towards him. You wrap one arm around his shoulders, and you grip his arm with the other, your hips bucking up as another finger teases your entrance before sinking deep inside. 

Your mouth falls open, your brows pinch. Aki kisses your forehead, he tugs you closer and leans down to brush his lips over your neck. 

“Feels good,” you whine, and Aki delicately rubs your clit with his thumb, sighing when he feels your walls clamp around his fingers. 

“Yeah?” He kisses your neck messily, curling his fingers into you deliciously. 

“I’m close, I'm close-” 

Your thighs close around his arm, and Aki slows his pace for just a moment. 

He asks, “Do you want me to stop?” 

Immediately, you shake your head, you plead for him to continue. Aki kisses your neck once more before he brings his lips to your ear, he presses his fingers into your sweet spot while toying with your clit, whispering honeyed words into your ear. 

You're so pretty, you gonna cum for me? Go ahead and cum, baby, I've got you. 

You tip over the edge just as he eases a third finger into you. You chant his name, your thighs shake and he drags his soaked fingers out to messily rub your clit through your orgasm with quick flicks of his wrist. 

Aki kisses you as you come down; it's like time is frozen, like it's just you and him stuck in this moment. Your lips melded to his while you breathe life into him, yet at the same time, take his breath away with each kiss you give to his lips. He only pulls away to catch his breath and briefly bring his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. 

“Hold on,” Aki reaches down onto the floor, searching for his pants. When he finds them, he fishes his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a silver condom packet. 

“What?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, eyeing him up and down. “Since when have you started carrying those around?” 

Aki replies matter-of-factly, “Since we started dating.” 

You smirk. “We have plenty of those at your house, you know. Thought you didn't want to have sex in public.” 

“Oh, please,” Aki rolls his eyes, “I wasn't counting on using them for something like this. It's just… better to be prepared.” 

It's not a complete lie, although, Aki can't deny he was thinking of the two of you getting caught in something spontaneous when he first slipped the condom into his wallet. He definitely didn't imagine this would be the place he'd end up using it, though. 

You reach up, plucking the condom packet from his fingers, and Aki glances up towards the driver's seat. The sky seems even darker than before, and the rain is still pouring down, battering the glass and obscuring the view. The windows of the car are slightly tinted, and with this storm, there's still no-one to be found. 

You tear open the condom wrapper, and you're sliding the lubricated latex down his hardened cock when Aki turns to look at you again. He settles his much larger hand over your own, he helps you tug the condom snugly on his length. 

“So...” Aki starts, and you look up to meet his eyes. “You were planning on doing this without protection?” 

He's so perceptive, you can't help but laugh. “Maybe. You're right, though. It's better to be safe.” 

Aki's eyes narrow. His expression seems unamused, but the more he thinks about it, the more he considers what that would entail — fucking you raw, the deeper his cheeks redden. Perhaps he should have gone with what you wanted. 

“Hey,” Your voice rouses him from his thoughts, “Sit back for me.” 

As he leans back, settling into the seat, you climb into his lap to straddle him again, pressing your lips to his. Your palms roam up and down his chest, fingertips tracing the scars littered across his toned body. 

His tongue snakes against yours, he kisses you deeply. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip before you detach and kiss his chin, then the edge of his jaw, trailing kisses down his to his neck where you suck beautiful fields of lilac and dusty pink into his pale skin. Aki gasps; his hands drift down your waist, the shape of your hips, and the arch of your back until they begin to knead the soft flesh of your ass. 

You can't wait any longer; you raise your hips and grip the base of his cock, running the tip over your wet folds. Aki looks down, he watches, he bites down on his lower lip. Then, he meets your gaze, his eyes glazed over, his expression pleading. 

Finally, you align his throbbing cock to your entrance, bringing yourself down halfway, slowly. You feel the fat tip of his cock enter you, you feel it stretch you out. Aki throws his head back, his eyes closed. He already feels like he could cum, just from this. Just from being halfway inside you. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, “God, that feels so good, fuck, baby-” 

You're both panting, and you've barely even taken him. 

Aki cracks his eyes open to watch you sink down on his cock, the length slowly disappearing inside you. He sucks a hiss between his gritted teeth when you settle on him all the way, taking all of him in. Your heart is pounding wildly against your ribcage, your head is starting to spin. 

“Too deep?” Aki asks between pants, and you shake your head. A few moments go by, you listen to the rhythmic drum of rain, Aki rubs soothing circles on your back and gives you a minute to adjust. 

It feels so good to finally be inside you. Aki breathes in deeply, he groans when your hips shift. You take another few moments to compose yourself before you lift your hips a little, only to immediately drop back down on his cock, causing a low fuck to escape from his lips. 

You start bouncing up and down his length, and he leans forward, latching his mouth onto your nipple. His hand gently kneads your other breast. You moan softly, hands reaching up to tug his messy hair out of his topknot, until your fingers can run through the strands and your nails can drag across his scalp, making him grunt and his spine tingle. 

“You like that, baby?” you coo, and Aki hums in approval, sending vibrations over your breast. His eyebrows are knitted together, his eyelids are fluttered shut. 

He swirls his tongue around your nipple and kisses your breast before pulling away. Your pace is getting a little faster, a little harder. The car is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin as you ride him, and the needy whines and moans coming from both you and him. 

“I love it, love it so much,” Aki sighs, “S-So wet and tight for me.” 

You grind your pelvis into his, and he grips your waist to help you along. You start to feel Aki raising his hips up from the seat. Ever so slightly, at first, just trying to feel you a little deeper. And then, desperately — he's matching your rhythm and rutting up into you, fucking you as you ride him with needy whines and fragile gasps. 

His expression already looks so fucked-out: his pupils blown, his lips parted, hair down and messy to frame his face. He's practically drooling. 

“That’s it, baby,” you purr as Aki thrusts up into you again, moaning from the pleasure. “Show me how much you like it.” 

“Ngh — fuck.” Your words only seem to spur him on more. Aki digs his nails a little harder into your hips, he shakes his head to get his messy bangs out of his eyes. 

“Oh, yes.” you moan, gripping his broad shoulders to steady yourself, “Right there, please, right there-” 

Sweat drips from his forehead, droplets cascade down his chest. He's fucking right into your sweet spot, to the point where you hardly have to move, you just let him thrust into you. Your ass is slapping against his thighs. Aki kisses your cheek before grasping your chin between his fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. 

The kiss is a wild clash of tongue and teeth, but you break away almost as soon as it begins, crying out when Aki buries himself into you hard. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, gasping over and over again in pleasure. 

Suddenly, Aki's pace starts to slow, he's holding you still and trying to catch his breath. His thighs are twitching, and his heart is pounding, it's so loud he can hear it in his ears. 

“Not… not gonna last much longer like this,” he mumbles, and you sit up to meet his eyes. There's an earnest, loving expression in the back of his gaze when he asks, “Can we change positions?” 

You don't answer, still catching your breath, but you nod your head. Aki rubs your hips, he lifts you and pulls out of you slowly, he kisses your jaw and your throat. You feel his arm curl around the small of your back, and he gently maneuvers your body until you're under him, your back laying flat against the seat. The leather is cool and smooth on your skin. 

Aki takes in the sight of you for a few moments, his eyes scanning your form. He admires the way you're splayed out beneath him; so beautiful, so angelic, as you always are. This time, though, it's a little different. It's a bit different to see you here, to have you in a place like this. It somehow manages to be exciting, but just as intimate as when he has you in his bedroom at the same time. 

He can't hold back from telling you in a sweet voice, “You're beautiful. So beautiful.” 

He closes his eyes, he listens to the drum of the rain for a second. Then, he grabs your waist, squeezing it carefully to let you know he's continuing, before lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance. 

Aki is incredibly gentle when he enters you again, like he’s handling glass, easing inside of you slowly. But once he's halfway in, everything is so hot and wet and tight that he's nearly on the verge of losing control, he has to resist the urge to just fuck you senseless. 

He exhales a shaky breath, you watch as his eyebrows furrow and God, it's so good, he's about to bottom out and it's such a snug, tight fit but it's just so right. All you can do is wiggle your hips and sigh feebly under the pressure, with Aki's forehead pressed to yours as he fills you. 

He places one of his hands on your side, while the other grips your leg from where it's falling off the edge of the seat. He tosses it over his shoulder, he buries himself into the hilt. 

“So good, Aki...” you gasp, your voice breathless, desperate. Aki leans down; his tongue flicks over your earlobe, he takes it between his teeth and sucks. His palms roam your body, gliding over your stomach and your sides. He kisses the shell of your ear, his warm breath fans out over it. 

“God, please.” Your head tosses back, and you're begging for him to give you more, only for Aki to ignore your pleading. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, and he kisses down your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. His lips reach your breast, he gazes fondly at the pretty shade of your skin before brushing his lips over your nipple. He licks it with the flat length of his tongue while he reaches down, bringing a free hand between your legs to rub soft circles over your clit with his thumb. You feel a wave of bliss twist up your spine, your cunt tightens around Aki's thick cock and his whole body shudders. 

A shaky moan comes with your next words: “Aki… stop teasing. Please.” 

You wiggle your hips, you whine and grip his shoulders tightly as he continues to kiss and suck on your breast, humming softly. 

“Need you to fuck me, now, please, Aki?” 

A ghost of a smile forms across Aki's face. He pulls away from your chest with a quiet pop, glancing up to meet your gaze. He mumbles, “You sound so cute… you want me to move, right?” 

He rewards you with the slightest thrust of his hips, rutting himself into you, just a little bit. It's enough to make you gasp, to make you grip him tighter and tangle your fingers in his hair. 

He knows you want him to move, he just wants to hear you say it. 

Face warm and with your eyes screwed shut, you murmur his name senselessly, over and over again like a prayer, a plea. You mutter please, please, please again and again as Aki's lips ghost over yours, and then press to the side of your throat, where he kisses and lightly nibbles, leaving impressions of his teeth. 

He tries to hold out, he tries to tease you as much as he can, only moving slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being buried deep inside you and the sound of your pretty voice. But it's hard to resist you, especially when you're begging for him. He longs to give you everything you ask for. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice soft and gentle, “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

Aki rests his head on your shoulder, and as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones, he quickens his pace, thrusting into you with deep, languid rolls of his hips. He reaches for your hands, pinning them above your head and threads his fingers with your own, holding them tightly. 

He pulls back and meets your eyes; your gaze flickers over his and you watch his brows furrow from the building pleasure. Then, Aki leans in, all the way until he's kissing you and his tongue is slipping past your lips. 

He begins to drill himself in fast, thrusting himself eagerly into you with long, deep strokes. The small space of the backseat causes his body to press up close to yours, and the perked buds of your nipples graze against his chest with every abrupt movement. Aki screws his eyes tightly shut, he lets go of your hands to hold the sides of your face as he kisses you. He focuses on the way your nails rake over his back. 

He kisses you leisurely, deliberately, as if he's trying to capture every inch of your sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. You whimper into his mouth; his cock is hitting the spot that always makes you melt, it's causing you to arch your back into him. His tempo doesn't slow, nor does it falter. He continues to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and causing all your nerves to light up when his pelvis grinds into your swollen clit with each of his thrusts. 

His hand steadies on the curve of your hip, he keeps the connection between your mouth and his as his palm trails lower, further downwards until it reaches the warmth of your cunt. You're soaked with both of your desires, your clit feels slick on his fingertips when he toys with it. 

You grip him tightly, clutching onto him as if your bearings have been thrown and he is the only thing in this world that can keep you grounded — a solid rock amongst the heavy waves. You find sanity in the taste of his tongue, and stability in your hands grasping at his shoulder blades. He's close, so close. 

He pulls away from your mouth, his warm breath mixes with yours, and you immediately gasp, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” 

Aki responds with a deep groan, his voice husky. “I won’t baby, I’ll give it to you as much as you want.” 

He leans down, kissing the tip of your nose. And then, his tongue presses to your neck, he licks a long stripe up your skin, eliciting a stuttered whimper from your lips. Aki leans his head on your shoulder, he sighs into your nape. It's so cute, it's so sexy that you want him so badly. You're begging desperately under him, when moments earlier you were the one teasing him, like the little minx you always are. 

You're always like this. You can tease him as much as you'd like, but he knows how much you need him. That's why you had him fuck you here, without being patient enough to wait for the two of you to get home. 

The rain is just as steady as it was when you began. It overpowers the echo of Aki's skin hitting yours, it's a quiet sort of lull that soothes you the moment the sound fills your ears. Everything feels slow, warm and sleepy and tinged with electricity. Is this how things always were with him? 

You reach for his face, you cup his cheeks and get him to look into your eyes. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, I love you so much.” Aki responds immediately, breathlessly, and he slows down the rhythm of his thrusts. 

In this beautiful instance of time, nothing matters, absolutely nothing but you. 

You take him into your broad oceans of adoration, care, and unadulterated love. You sweep him out into your calm oceans and away from the rocky shores which expose the jagged edges of his past, a life already lived, that still manages to cut at his bones, that still digs deep into his sanity and claws at the worst of him. 

Right now, you look heavenly, your hair splayed out onto the dark, leather seats, the warm light reflecting off your skin. Aki marvels at your beauty; the way the overcast lighting and shadows from outside cast over you makes you glow as if you're a piece of the moon itself, dislodged and sent down to earth to bring the brightest of lights into his life. An ethereal being for him to love and adore, who he's lucky enough to have all for himself.

Slowly, he works back to his previous pace, but his eyes never leave your form, he never stops gazing at you with such adoration and love. Your heart flutters ceaselessly inside of your chest. 

Honestly, Aki is so turned on he's starting to lose control of himself. The mere sight of you underneath him, in the backseat of the company’s car, in the middle of an empty street — it’s something Aki couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. And yet, it feels so lovely to have you here, so perfect, he just can't get enough. 

The simmering pressure that's been building up in him, deep and potent, begins to rapidly pool in his core to the point where Aki is sure he won't be able to hold back for much longer. The coil in his stomach is tightening, winding and threatening to snap. His bottom lip is bitten to hell and back, and his parched throat murmurs your name with a harsh sense of yearning. 

Aki looks down at you with a hooded gaze, but he ceases to break eye contact with you. His forearms support his weight on either side of your body as he continues to thrust in and out, following the rhythm that always makes you come undone for him. 

Pleasure consumes him, it consumes you, you're joined in the most intimate way two people could become one. The act is sinful, but it's coated in the deep bond the both of you share, it's intertwined with pure love and utter devotion. 

“A-Aki,” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, babbling as you beg, “I can’t, I have to… Aki, please, I-” 

You interrupt yourself with a loud cry, tossing your head back as you immerse yourself in the very peak of your euphoria. 

“Yeah?” Aki gasps back, fucking you deeply, perfectly, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him. 

“Let go, sweetheart.” He's barely breathing the words, he grasps your chin and stares into your eyes. His thumb brushes over your lower lip. “Come for me – Come all over me.”

It’s impossible to say no. Not when his voice is so soft and convincing, so enticing. Not when he's fucking you this good, bringing you to heaven with every deep roll of his hips. 

You can barely hear the rain outside anymore. The only thing you can focus on is the pleasure, the only sound filling your ears is the echo of Aki's heavy breaths and his desperate moans. You want to drown in this feeling forever, you want Aki's sweet words to melt into your skin, to brand you with his mark. 

The whole car is shaking from the weight of Aki's thrusts as he fucks you into the seat. You're right on the edge, and one more deep thrust throws you over; your thighs shudder, you let go with a scream of his name. Aki works you through your bliss, drawing out your pleasure until the feeling of your walls clamping around his cock has him meeting his end along with you. 

He groans your name, his head drops to your shoulder and his eyes screw shut. His thrusts grow erratic, clumsy, he mutters a mix of yes, and, I love you. He spills a warm load inside the condom as your walls throb around him, milking him for everything he has. 

The white fades eventually, like lamplight dimming behind a shade. Your vision is hazy, the both of you are a sweaty mess in the backseat, and when you breathe in, it’s all musky and good and sweet, just the scent of sex and the feeling of Aki's body pressed closely to yours, his arms wrapped loosely around you. 

After a few moments, Aki pulls out of you, and he pulls you close to him so you're huddled up to him. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, and you can feel it against yours. You breathe in and out, deeply, trying to steady your breathing. Aki does the same. Your hearts sync up to the same steady rhythm. 

The afterglow begins to settle into Aki’s bones. His mind is a complete haze of pleasure, and the only thing on his mind is you, you, you. He sits up a little, and he turns to look at you, only to find that you're already staring back up at him with adoration in your eyes. 

Aki stares into them for what feels like an eternity, stretches of time that must only be mere seconds, but feel like they've continued on for decades, horizons far beyond this unfairly short lifetime. Your gaze is his solace, his home. He knows he's too far gone. 

When he says those three words again, it feels greater than the first time, more than the second. As if with every new time he confesses his love to you, the truth of it engraves itself deeper into his being.

Aki breathes, “I love you.” 

You smile, you lean in and kiss his shoulder. “I love you too, Aki.” 

Aki nuzzles your forehead weakly. He gives the two of you a few more moments to regain composure, and then he pushes himself up, discarding the condom and collecting both of your clothes. He helps you get dressed, he tugs his clothes on and adjusts them so they're just as neat as they were before. You hand him his hair tie as you finish buttoning up your shirt, and Aki ties his hair up before climbing into the driver's seat. 

The rain has finally slowed down to a soft drizzle. Thankfully, when you climb into the passenger's seat and scan the road, you don't see anyone on the streets. You lean your head into the headrest, finally feeling the fatigue of the mission and the previous activities from earlier take over. 

Aki looks towards you. He makes sure you're alright, he reaches for the keys and turns them in the ignition, firing up the engine. 

You meet his eyes. One of his hands grips the steering wheel, and the other reaches for yours. He brings it close to his face, he presses a kiss to your knuckle. He lets go and settles his palm onto your thigh. 

“Come on. Let’s go home.” 

a/n: pls forgive if you see any errors, dumblr likes to fuck up my posts for some reason.

#creaming in my pants when i wrote this #watch me not post for months again after this #feels good to put something out once in a while though #aki x reader #aki smut #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you #hayakawa aki x you #hayakawa aki x reader

[justalildumpling]

⇢ 3, 2, 1

synopsis: at this point of your pathetically unrequited crush on your popular friend, it didn’t faze you when you found out that he wasn’t going to be at the same NYE party as you. but when he suddenly turned up to come find you, did you start wondering that maybe you weren’t the only one with harboured feelings.

pairing: mark x reader genre: friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff word count: 2.3k warnings: swearing, drunkenness/mentions of drinking and partying, the word sex was said once note: lmao the way i’ve literally had this idea in my wip documents since like last year… anyways, here’s a little soft boi mark to start off your year <33 happy new year everyone!!

It didn't really make much sense.

Well, according to the resident drunkards Haechan and Chenle that is, being sober on New Years Eve.

Or any house party for that matter.

"It's literally free alcohol Y/N, why not make the most of it?" Haechan protested, cracking open another can of Jack and Coke, letting out a satisfied hum after hearing the bubbles fizzing up to the rim of the lid.

"Cause some people want a functioning liver by the age of thirty Lee Donghyuck," You rolled your eyes at the tipsy boy, clicking your tongue in disapproval as he downed the alcoholic drink in his hand, "And actually be able to recall all the not stupid things I did the night before."

"What? Like accidentally telling our little Markie boy that you're head over heels for him?" Donghyuck fired back, shaking the last droplets of the drink into his mouth before chucking it in the kitchen bin, "He's not even with us tonight!"

Unfortunately for you, the little devil man dressed as your best friend was right. Mark Lee was nowhere to be found at the party, though you couldn't complain as you were already notified of his absence last Wednesday.

You and your group of friends sat basking in the sunlight outside on the picnic benches of the park, taking in the rare appearance of the sun within the rainy week.

"What do you mean you're not coming to Lele's?!" Donghyuck squabbled, letting his burger fall onto the wrapper with a thud.

Mark merely shrugged, guiltily scratching the nape of his neck, "Johnny had already invited me two weeks ago and I said I was gonna go, sorry guys."

You frowned at the boy's statement, swirling the fry that you had stolen from Jisung's tray into the ketchup tub.

Though Mark was an important member of your high school friend group, it was hard to align your meet ups with his hectic schedule. Sometimes you couldn't seem to understand your crush in question, how he managed to juggle his school work alongside the university basketball team, internship plus a somewhat abundant social life was a mystery in itself.

Mark Lee was a relatively popular figure at your school, good looks, a chill and caring personality and godly talented at everything he did. It was no surprise that his inbox was flooded with invitations all the time let alone the holiday break.

Despite this, he always made sure to keep in touch with you, checking in with you about how your day had been or if he's lucky to squeeze in an ice cream run by the beach with you, which you very much appreciated and made your heart swell just a little bit too much than the average person, not that he ever needed to know.

As if he sensed your disappointment within the group's chaotic wails and cries, Mark reached over to give your hand a little squeeze, sending you an apologetic glance.

It was things like this which made up your hopelessly harboured feelings for the Canadian, making you think that it wasn't just you that had pathetically pined over him but being the nice guy that he was, probably treated others the same way.

Jaemin and Renjun though seemed to argue otherwise, whining to tell the clueless boy about your feelings, saying that there's no way that he wouldn't like you back before you quickly shushed them, snapping to keep their delusions in their heads.

"Hello? Earth to Y/N?" A voice broke you from your thoughts, causing you to peer up from your seated position on the couch, eyes trailing up the body of a boy to meet an amused Jeno.

He held out your phone, his cheeky grin growing exponentially the more you stared at his hands in confusion.

"Lover boy texted," He finally explained, nonchalantly chucking the device onto your lap, "Figured you'd want to know."

You grumbled, throwing the nearest pillow at the boy in which he barely dodged as he chuckled at your embarrassment, slipping off to the kitchen, most likely reporting the incident to his best friend.

Rolling your eyes, you unlocked your phone to find a couple missed calls from Johnny, unsent message notifications from Yuta and Mark's little message.

markie: hey :)

you: hi!! how's johnny's?

markie: too loud, yuta kept tryinhg to kisss me and johnny keeps bullyibg me markie: so i left

You giggled at his poor attempts at coherent sentences, covering your mouth with your hand to avoid the potential teasing from your friends.

You've seen Mark drunk a couple times, mostly at Johnny's parties after finals week. He was a cute drunk, clinging onto your figure rambling on about things which you couldn't quite decipher, in turn making him an easy target for the playful teasing from his seniors.

Which now that you thought about it, explained the random notifications from Johnny and Yuta, the two culprits behind most if not all of Mark's misery.

you: mark, are you drunk?

markie: no, im repsinsible heh markie: you're still at lele's right?

As you started to type your response, a loud groan was made from the left of the couch, causing you to switch your attention from your phone screen to Donghyuck sitting cross legged on the timber floors with Renjun, who was holding the infamous vomit bucket in front of his mouth, disgust ridden over his face.

"How much did he have tonight?" Jisung asked, almost horrified by the older boy's pitiful state from across the room. His eyes quickly darted back to the array of party mix lollies and the lukewarm pizzas displayed on the dining table, as unidentifiable contents threatened to spill from Donghyuck's mouth.

"We've already lost count," Jaemin resonated from the kitchen, his voice slightly drowned out by the rushing water, "Lele's isn't doing much better either, he's currently occupying the toilet bowl instead of the bucket."

You shook your head, silently chuckling at your best friends' suffering.

you: i am you: lele and hyuck's drunk as fuck you: they're currently hurling their guts out you: one using the vomit bucket, one using the toilet bowl

markie: those idiots hahahah markie: btw could u come outisde for a sex markie: *sev markie: fuck markie: *sec

you: pfft and u said u weren't drunk you: also, ur outside?!?!?

markie: shut up im fine i djust cant type rn

you: lol whatever u say markie you: i'll be out in a sec

You sat up from the couch, quietly squeezing past the crowd formed around the unfortunate boy and up the stairs.

Slipping on Jaemin's drunkenly bought La Coste slides, you swung open the door. A shiver slivered up the small of your back as the cool breeze hit your bare arms, a contrast from the warm stuffy atmosphere from inside.

You spotted Mark standing by the gates of Chenle's house, the dim street light illuminating his facial features, making him look more ethereal than he already was. With a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you began making your way towards him.

The sound of gravel shuffling from underneath your feet caused Mark to whip his head around to face you, he was pretty certain that most of the alcohol in his system had disappeared on the walk from Johnny's house but why was it that as soon as he saw you happily skipping down the path, greeting him with the sweetest smile that made him feel so euphoric?

"I can't believe you came!" You exclaimed, bringing him into a warm embrace.

His reply came in the form of a shy laugh, tickling the back of your neck with his breath.

He held you in his arms for a few minutes, with only the occasional squawks from inside breaking the comforting silence.

"Can you believe it's already the new year?" You whispered in awe, pulling away from his body to face him.

"Yeah dude that's insane, it feels like this year went by so quickly," Mark replied, adding his favourite form of endearment to the start, "Do you think you're ready for it to be over?"

You pondered for a few seconds, reflecting back on all the events that occurred within the past year before shrugging your shoulders, "I'm not sure."

"Don't get me wrong, this years been great but I feel like due to school, work and whatever, I wasn't able to fulfil all the things I wanted to do."

Mark nodded his head at your words, resonating with every word.

You always seemed to have the right things to say to him, always so understanding about his hectic schedule but never failing to let him know that he was missed whenever he couldn't make his friend's gatherings. It was things like this which caused the gradual course of his feelings for you.

For a while, Mark believed that he had made his crush on you subtle, not overly flirting or showering you in gifts in front of your friends. But one friendly reminder from Jaemin about his drunk habit of becoming a koala and latching onto you as if his life depended on it, broke his oblivious bubble. He quickly realised that many people had caught on, with some making it more obvious than others.

"I'm telling you, she likes you back bro!" He remembered Johnny exclaiming a few hours back with Yuta nodding enthusiastically as he half hazardously sipped on his beer.

Mark, Johnny and Yuta were situated in the secluded areas of the host's bedroom, with the party hammering hard downstairs. He wasn't too sure how he had ended up on his bed getting lectured by his two teammates about love pestering him to confess his feelings.

"C'mon, just text her saying to meet up," Yuta encouraged, handing him his phone to unlock, "You saw what happens when Johnny and I have our phones."

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the sheer panic he had felt when the older boys dialled your number on their phones a few moments back, threatening to spill his secret before he had lunged at their figures wrestling to press the red hang up button.

"You literally have the best excuse to kiss her tonight," Johnny huffed, flopping down on his bed with arms crossed, "It's New Year's Eve."

"No way dude," Mark flatly responded, slapping his phone against his forehead, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"As if a girl would ever reject you," Yuta snorted, nudging the sides of his arms with his elbow, "Now hurry up and text her you fool."

And here he was, standing in front of you in the middle of the gravel pathway, with his face flushed.

Though whether it was due to the alcohol or whether it was the thought of kissing you tonight, he wasn't too sure. But taking into account his palpitating heart in his chest as he waited anxiously for midnight, it seemed to lean towards the latter.

"Sorry for rambling on," You scratched the base of your neck, hoping you didn't talk his ear off.

Mark frantically waved his arms around, shaking his head.

A muffled shriek awfully similar to Chenle's interrupted your conversation, startling both you and Mark as you whipped your heads back to the house. It remained quiet for a few seconds before a range of shouts counting down from ten resonated shortly after.

You giggled, turning around to focus on Mark's smiling face once again as the both of you joined in.

"Three," Mark cleared his throat, wiping his clammy hands on the sides of his ripped jeans.

"Two," He grabbed onto your hand, taking in your sweet smile and the way you reciprocated his touch, clasping your fingers around his, your rings clinking with his.

"One, Happy New Ye-"

The moment his lips hit yours, it had felt like all the daze of the alcohol was wearing off. Regaining consciousness of the way his lips perfectly moulded against yours and how he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tasting the watermelon lollipop you loved so much. Gripping onto your waist and tugging you closer, his heart began to mirror fireworks, matching the way the real ones sparks crackled and thundered in the background.

Pulling away from your touch, the confidence he had going in had simmered down as he gingerly met your eyes once again.

"What was that about?" You whispered, your eyes carrying a sense of wonder.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that without your permission, but you just looked so beautiful and I've had a crush on you for god knows how long and I just couldn't help it. God what am I saying, you can slap me if you want-"

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his once again, jerking him forward by his hoodie strings.

"You kissed me," Mark's eyes widened, awestruck by the sudden gesture.

"I did." You replied, fidgeting with the hems of your shirt as you added, "You said that you liked me."

"I did," Mark confirmed with a shy smile, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Does that mean you like me too?"

You could feel your cheek heat up as you dipped your head in response, making him beam at the small motion as he brought you into his arms, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.

"Happy New Year Y/N," Mark kissed your forehead, his hands resting on the top of your shoulders as he gazed into your eyes adoringly.

"Happy New Year Mark.”

permanent taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies

#mark x reader #mark imagines #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #neowritingsnet #nct 127 x reader #mark scenarios #mark fluff #mark x you #nct dream x you #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 x you #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct x you #nct imagines #nct scenarios #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee x you #mark fanfic #mark oneshot #mark lee oneshot #nct dream oneshot #nct oneshot #nct dream #nct

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife? 

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet. 

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh. 

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?” 

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.” 

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.” 

“Yeah, I guess, er--” 

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?” 

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother. 

“We are getting married,” he says plainly. 

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.” 

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help! 

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.” 

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe. 

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother? 

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.” 

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?” 

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.” 

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?” 

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight. 

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.” 

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.” 

“Oh,” you babble. 

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.” 

“Not many,” you mutter. 

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?” 

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.” 

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles. 

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different. 

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--” 

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.” 

“Why ever not?” She asks. 

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.” 

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.” 

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes. 

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.” 

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient. 

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.” 

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into? 

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue. 

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment. 

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile. 

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.” 

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.” 

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?” 

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.” 

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside. 

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine. 

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union. 

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family. 

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.” 

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you. 

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure. 

“You did a good job,” he says. 

“What?”  

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.” 

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.” 

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.” 

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug. 

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?” 

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers. 

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.” 

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite. 

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.” 

You dip your head. He sees right through you. 

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle. 

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.” 

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees. 

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.” 

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle. 

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.” 

“No?” 

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones. 

“But I...” 

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.” 

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.” 

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee. 

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are. 

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.” 

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about? 

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.” 

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly. 

He breaks character again, “say no.” 

“What?” 

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.” 

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?” 

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?” 

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.” 

“But I said so--” 

“Oh, um, okay--” 

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.” 

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again. 

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?” 

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly. 

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly. 

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.” 

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...” 

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.” 

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

[veinsfullofstars]

Your life’s a joke and I’m the punchline~

(ID: Super Paper Mario fanart of Dimentio in a variety of poses and expressions. Top left - smiling at the camera with his hands under his chin. Top right - cackling with the back of one hand to his mouth. Middle - grinning with a finger to his lips, a red spatter across his mask. Bottom left - floating with his legs crossed, the Dark Prognosticus open on his lap, a hand on his chin, humming curiously. Bottom middle - looming ominously and making grabby hands over the Chaos Heart. Bottom right - standing on tiptoe with one foot kicked back, looking at the viewer over his shoulder with a toothy grin, fingers crossed behind his back. END ID.)

Needed a break from another piece, so I pulled this from the WIP folder and banged it out in a couple days. We love a bastard clown man in this house.

Started 06/12/23, finished 11/13/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 11/14/23.

#veins art #veins fanart #fanart #super paper mario #spm #dimentio #not plotting anything no siree #my second favorite jester #(I'm sure you can guess the first) #stars I swear each of these is a different man - what even is style consistency? I don't know her #blood tw #eye contact tw #veinsfullofstars

[stargazing15]

Little rascal

A little fluffy dad Rooster drabble

A/N: yes I have a lot of wips, no this was not one of them. Hehe woops

Enjoy!

"Babe, seriously, is that the only thing coming out of his mouth?" Bradley sighed in frustration at the sight of his son. Oh, it was that type of day.

Yup, little Nick learned that you reacted when he said "mama" and has been saying it ever since, to everything and everyone. And when home you got an extended concert of "mama mama mama mamaaaaa". For you it was funny, but Bradley's pride got hurt Nick still wasn't saying any form of 'daddy'. And just like that mister grumpy chicken was back and sulking around the house.

"Earth to Bradley! The man is 14 months old, you know he even calls Mav 'mama'. And Penny, oh and even the lady from the bakery. So for the moment you're 'mama' too."

Bradley made himself smaller to be at eye level with Nick. "My sweet little boy, daddy's sorry, but you would make daddy's day a lot better if you would say 'daddy' for me, or 'dada', I could live with that too, please?"

"Honey, I seriously doubt your cute puppy eyes will work with Nick. You know his are cuter." Even Nick agreed with a "Hehe" and continued babbling in his own language.

"It was worth to try," Bradley smiled softly, "if you don't mind I'm going to the grocery store, can you help me with the list babe?"

"Of course, here you go. And can you bring my Bradley back?" This time it was you showing off your puppy eyes, in hope to make a little smile appear on your husband's face and it worked.

"Thank you for understanding, I'll try to find him." He said before giving you a small kiss.

"Well, actually thank you, now I don't have to go to the grocery store tomorrow, extra play time with Nick. Take your time, I know it helps to cool down after a heavy day."

"See you later babe and you, be nice to mommy, okay?" But Nick was still strolling around with his walker like a little madman guarding the house.

You had this feeling, so you took your phone and put the camera on. Mostly your gut feeling was right and Nick was about to do something funny. You had just touched the button to start filming when it happened.

"Dada? Dadaaaaa! Dada. Dadaaaaa?" Nick was saying while pointing to the door. Oh yes he did, and you were filming. The moment you stopped filming you made a little squeal, startling your son.

"I'm so proud of you little big man, and dada too, I will text dada immediately."

You: right after you left <attached video>

You heard Bradley's car arrive 30 minutes later and he was humming, Bradley was back, he left mister grumpy chicken behind.

"Hi babe, I'm back," he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before putting the groceries on the counter top, "and hello to you too little man. You made dada's very good." And ruffled through Nick's hair, making him babble something at the action.

"Mama mama, waaaaaah." Nick babbled to his father.

"You little rascal, you're lucky I love you."

As soon as Bradley was around the corner to put the last things away Nick did it again. "Dada." Resulting in you and Bradley laughing at the little goofball. Bradley came crawling from around the corner going straight to Nick to start tickling him.

"This time I heard it!" Bradley laughed with Nick. You joined them on the ground to help let Nick win the little tickling contest.

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @bradleybeachbabe @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @mavrellover91

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw #dad!bradley bradshaw #dad rooster #dad bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster fic #top gun fanfic #top gun: maverick #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw fanfic

[impyssadobsessions]

Excerpts from my WIPS ;3 Guess Which story and when- or if its a story even up. If ya want.

----DPxDC

“Keep communication lines on, we'll be moving towards your location.” Batman had replied, which made Nightwing clicked his teeth. “How much should I bet you're not going to do that?” Dick turned to ask Jason as both of them hopped off the bike. “Do what? I didn't hear anything.” “Okay, so a hundred at least.” Nightwing hummed, as he followed Red-Hood back towards the abandon lab.

----DPxDC

"-One time she sent DASH! To babysit ME! I'm older than both of them now. Y'know how awkward that was? Though the look on Dash's face was hilarious.” Dick smirked, raising a brow. “The guy that bullied you? Why did she ask him?” “Ah, probably because he's a puppy that'll do whatever my sister asks. She knows it too.” Danny clicked his tongue as his face grimaced at the implications of it. “I may or may not have... scared him a few times. I do like a disappearing act.” Dick grinned as he could imagine what Danny meant. He did seem to take any form of “keeping tabs” on him as a challenge. Danny smirked back, a mischievous glint in his eye, before dropping his face. “Jazz was REALLY upset about it. I had assumed this was her being overbearing and protective like usual-I didn't realize how hard this was on her.” The guilt thick in his throat. “She broke down crying and.. I promised her I'll stay out of the house when she's not home. 'Cause I didn't know what to do.. or say. I just..” “Thought of the easiest solution?” “Yeah... I guess.” Danny shrugged, defeated.

---------DPxDC

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shouldn't you be resting, sir?” Alfred scolded. A small amused smirk on his lips as he carried lunch on a tray. Bruce just made a grunt. His eyes glued to the screen of the laptop. Images, news articles, videos. Whatever he could find was displayed on the screen, while he bit at the end of his pencil. A notepad next to him. “Ah yes, very informative answer, Master Bruce.” Alfred set down the tray on the nightstand beside his bed. There was more than just lunch on the tray as it carried a medical kit. Bruce sighed. He shoved the laptop to the side and struggled to sit up more so Alfred could replace his dressing. “This whole situation just crawls under my skin.” “I say it does, sir.” Alfred's hands move quickly to help replace the doctor's handy work. “Secret government organization, children in peril, and the boarder between life and death getting thinner by the day. Certainly sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

---------BULLY

Pete glanced back up at Mr. Smith. The man was eyeing him carefully, waiting for a reply. He must care about Gary in some way to go through this much trouble, right? And... it would be easier to contact Gary's grandfather than dealing with the headmaster. Pete bit his lip as he thought. “Um, Okay. S-sure.” “Atta boy! Hahaha!” Allen laughed as he smacked his hand on Pete's shoulder, making him stumble. Pete really needed to work on not being pushed around so easily. “Though, if you can mange to keep little Garreth in line, I'll add in a little bonus for your trouble. Since you're doing more than half what I was paying this damn school to do.” “That's not-” “Some good advice. Never work for free, Pete. Consider it a token of gratitude. After all, I think we both know watching my grandson isn't an easy task.” Allen winked.

--------DPXDC

Tim had no idea how he was going to pull this off. His eyes glancing from the Fenton parents to the boy he met yesterday, Danny Fenton. He knew he was dead. At least, was ghostly in some way. Danny didn't act or looked how Greta did, but Greta was visible as Deadman wasn't. So perhaps ghosts varied drastically? Either way, Danny being dead wasn't even the part that was bothering him. It was knowing he had to pretend he didn't know- while Danny sat right next to his oblivious killers. Well, the word killer might be too harsh. Tim theorized it was an accident regarding with a portal that opened on top of Danny. Which might also explain Danny's unique qualities.

---------DPxDC

“...Danny has traces of... Lazarus pit... stronger than yours.” Tim answered, with a concerned tone. They were afraid of how Jason would take it. And Jason was not taking it well, as he felt cold rage deep in his veins. The icy chill as he acknowledged that not only was Danny his blood... he shared the worse part of his blood. The reminder that they... Had died. Those scars... that was how Danny died and so far knowing their luck, he doubted it was painless. “Little Wing? Jay bird? You there, I'm almost at your location. How's Danny?” Dick called on the comms. Jason pulled the boy more into his jacket, giving him the best attempt of a hug he could. “Better than the fuckers who did this to him will be.”

------DPXDC

Danny had made an unfortunate discovery. His powers, like all ghosts, were based on emotion. Other's emotions. Even worse, the strongest one was fear. Fear fed on itself and grew stronger and stronger. And what made him discover this, made his heart sink with dread. He was stuck powerless in Gotham as his friends were laughing themselves to death along with other hostages in the room. Danny cursed at himself for listening to Sam. He should have phased them out of there, regardless of Batman's no meta rule. Now the only fear emitting into the room was his own. They were too far from others for him to feed off of, and ectoplasm was low. No.. more like the ectoplasm was being pulled away from the ground of Gotham and seeping into some other being that was far too greedy. “Well, well, well~ Look what we have here? A little party pooper!” A man with green hair and clown painted face cackled, as he waltz his way over to Danny. The black-hair teen ripped his eyes from his friends, glaring at the man. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, while he stayed knelt over his friends. “Funny, most parties I've seen at least has music.” Danny was feeling sweat dripping off his face. He needed to do something fast, but if he couldn't transform.. then he wasn't sure what else he isn't able to do. Not like this man looked fit, but... Danny knew danger when he sees it. “Ah, but this is music! To my ears at least, ehehehehe!”

----------CAMP CAMP

“Ah. Smell that, Gwen?” “Smell what.” “That fresh breeze! We had gone a full twenty-four hours without a single camp activity catching on fire.” “Huh, I guess you're right! This camp only smells half as shitty-” “Where's Max?” Both Gwen and David utter out in realization as it had dawn that neither of them had seen the troublesome trio since breakfast. --- “Don't worry Max! We'll save you once I finish chewing off my leg-” “Nikki! DON'T!” “Well... I'm fucked.”

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dcxdp #dp x dc #writing excerpt #peter kowalski #rockstar bully #bully scholarship edition #campcamp #campcampbell #impyelam #WIP #I just wanted to show some snippets #long post #jason todd #dick grayson #jazz fenton #danny fenton #bruce wayne #tim drake #crossover #fanfic

[ladykailitha]

Across a Crowded Room Part 4

Just one more chapter after this and I've decided to release a chapter a week for a story and post a different story each day of the week except Wednesdays (it's too hard to post on that day because of WIP Wednesday, it's overwhelming).

In this one we have Wayne being wise, Eddie picking the perfect thing to cheer Steve up and just being cuties, and Robin figures out her housing problem.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Eddie went back to his hotel and stewed about it for awhile. He knew Nancy was rough around the edges. That was what he loved most about her. She smart and funny and yeah, if Eddie had been straight and she hadn’t been with Jonathan he would have tried for a relationship with her.

But now, knowing what he did, all he could taste was bile. He knew he could call her up, bitch her out, never speak to her again. And even though Steve didn’t tell him he couldn’t flip out on her tonight, it was advice he was going to take anyway.

Plus, it may have only been 8pm here, it was nine where she was and he knew she went to bed early so she could be up at four to write.

He went out to a gas station to get a pack of cigarettes and some beer. It was going to be long night and he need to relax.

When he got back to the hotel, he stood out in front and lit a cigarette. He called the one person who could make sense of everything that happened tonight.

Wayne.

“Hey, kiddo,” Wayne greeted. “How goes things with your boy?”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Have you ever been so wrong about something that what you thought was a mole hill turned out to be the tip of an active volcano? Like you have this friend that had rough break up, but you got to be real good friends with the ex so you just kept telling the friend to get over it and move on. Only to find out she cheated on him and lied about it?”

“Oh Ed.”

Wayne had met Nancy and liked her well enough. She was smart and tenacious but she had this coldness to her that rubbed him the wrong way. But Eddie really liked her so he never said anything.

“Is Steve okay?” he asked.

He told Wayne everything that happened earlier.

“Steve is being a fucking saint about the whole thing,” Eddie barked bitterly. “And now I just want to call her and yell at her. Like how could she continue to hurt Steve that way? Because she had to know it was, right?”

Wayne hummed his agreement. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to wait a couple of days to calm down before calling her,” Eddie said after taking a drag from his cigarette. “Might even wait until I get back to LA, because I don’t want her cloud hanging over Steve and me.”

“Sounds about right,” Wayne said. “I didn’t know she cheated on him, but always thought that how quickly she moved on was a little suspicious.”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They break up and two days later she’s with Jonathan?” Wayne said. “Come on, son, you don’t stop to wonder about that?”

Eddie ducked his head in shame. “She always said that it was a mutual understanding between her and Steve that since she was in love with Jonathan, she should be with him.”

“Ah.”

The story had always been that Steve broke up with her and told her to be with Jonathan because she clearly loved him. But in light of her cheating on Steve, he doubted the conversation was as cut and dried as all that.

“I just feel like I’ve let Steve down after all these years because I never asked him what his side of the story was, you know?”

“I can understand that,” Wayne said. “But follow his lead on this. Don’t beat yourself up for something if he’s truly moved on, alright?”

“Yeah...” he breathed out and all the tension and worry just flowed out his body. “I think I’m just going to have a couple of beers and go to bed.”

“You take care now, ya hear?” Wayne said.

“You, too.”

Eddie hung up and finished his cigarette. He tossed the butt in the appropriate ashtray and went up to his room to crack a couple of beers. As he opened his door, he got a photo from Steve.

It was of him curled up on the sofa with a large blanket and a tub of ice cream. Eddie smiled down at the image. He pressed and held on the imaged and gave it a heart.

-Love you, baby. Take care yourself and we’ll meet up tomorrow.

-Love you too sunshine.

Eddie gulped down the hard lump that had formed in his throat. God did him love this man.

He got into his pjs and sat down on the bed, legs stretched out. He pulled out his phone to plug it in to charge, and looked at it a moment.

He wasn’t going to call Nancy. He had already made that decision. But there was one more person he could talk to.

Jonathan. Maybe he had some insights to all of this that the rest of them just didn’t.

After a good conversation with Jonathan, he hung up feeling a little better about the whole thing.

Then he settled down to read. He had this book that he had been trying to read for the last couple weeks, so he pulled it out to read it. There was a Netflix show about it that he moderately liked and wondered if the source material was any better.

He looked up at the clock on the wall with a frown. He hadn’t gotten too far into the book, but it was already after one.

Sighing, he put the book down and sent a message to Steve to tell him good night, like he had the night before.

Eddie wasn’t expecting a message back, but he got one anyway.

-:*

He shook his head and got under the covers, letting himself drift off.

****

Steve woke up early the next morning and stretched. He felt a billion times better from his quiet night in. He loved Robin and Eddie. They were his best friends for a reason. But they were loud and over the top. Hell, that was why Steve was so in love with Eddie. But he needed soft last night and he could get that better on his own.

Not that Eddie couldn’t be soft!

He didn’t want to suggest otherwise, but he needed the time to decide what he really wanted with Eddie. They had gone from friends that only talked on the phone and barely visited each other to a relationship and sex in zero to sixty.

And as crazy as it all was, Steve was even more invested in going all in with him.

Because he respected Steve’s wishes. Because he sincerely apologized. Because he felt like shit about it. They could have not believed him. Blown him off, telling him it was years ago. Him and Robin both.

But they didn’t.

He had barely turned on the coffee machine when his phone rang.

“Ello mellow,” he greeted absently.

“Steve!” Robin cried. “You’ll never guess what happened last night?”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah?”

“I was talking to Kendra and she has this cousin who’s moving out to New York next week to do ballet and while her parents bought the apartment outright want her to take a roommate to help with the utilities and shit. So we called her and talked. And now I have place to stay, stay and I don’t need to crash on Nancy’s couch. Hell, I don’t even have to tell her about what happened between you and her and I can just phase her out of my life. Isn’t that amazing?!”

She hadn’t even taken a breath throughout the whole speech.

Steve laughed. “That does sound amazing. What’s her name?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” Robin said. “Steve, she’s like gorgeous and a ballerina and funny and I’m going to die but I’m going to die happy about it.”

“I’m happy for you, Robs,” he said. “You call Nancy yet?”

“No,” she replied grumpily. “I wanted to talk to my bestie first.”

Steve chuckled. “Bestie informed. Now go tell her of your changed plans.”

“Love you, dingus!” she said with a kissy noise. “Call you back soon!”

Steve stared at his phone for a moment or two in just sheer awe. Like if Eddie hadn’t gotten the record deal out here, none of this would have happened.

It probably would still turned out all right, but now things were going great.

He got his coffee and made him a bow of cereal. He was going to have to go grocery shopping. He was a little lower on things than he thought he was.

He had finished rinsing out his bowl when he got a call from Eddie.

“Morning, babe,” he said softly. Fondly.

“My glorious Stevie!” Eddie greeted back. “I have decided that because yesterday was shit, we are going to the zoo today.”

Steve blinked. He didn’t think he’d ever been to the zoo out here in Chicago. “Sounds like fun. Should we make a picnic out of it?”

“Yes!” Eddie cried. “That’s perfect. I get the drinks and sides and you bring the sandwiches?”

“Sounds good,” Steve said. “The best supermarket is on...” he listed the address and texted it to him. “Why don’t we meet there in an hour and do our shopping together.”

“Yay!”

“See you then, Eds.”

“Bye, honey!”

Steve did the sniff test and decided he’d shower when he got home. He was about to smear sunscreen all over himself and figured it would be easier to get just one shower today.

He went to the cupboard and pulled out their sunscreen. Robin being the cute freckled thing that she was burned in sixty two degree weather in severe overcast wearing a large hat and covering up the rest of her so he had the good stuff.

He checked his balance and satisfied he had enough for the zoo and groceries, he went and got dressed, applying the sunscreen under his clothes for maximum effectiveness.

Steve grabbed his keys and wallet and locked up.

****

Eddie found the place easy enough. The problem was that he arrived twenty minutes before he said he would meet Steve. So he left early to make sure he could find the place and not leave Steve waiting, so sue him.

He was finishing his second cigarette when Steve pulled up next to him and hopped out.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Steve said with a smile.

Eddie pulled him in close. “Just a few years, but that’s okay. I’d wait forever if it meant I would get you in the end.”

“Sap!” Steve teased, but he threw his arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him deeply. “You don’t have to wait anymore, sunshine. I’m in it for as long you want me.”

Eddie’s smile was bright. “Mmk.”

They walked into grocery store and got a cart. Steve pulled out his phone and got the stuff on his list. Then they got the stuff for their picnic.

“I’d make my potato salad if I had the time,” Steve lamented when Eddie threw in a tub of the store bought.

“You have a potato salad recipe?” Eddie cackled. “Is it yours or Claudia’s?”

Steve clutched his chest and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “I’m wounded to think that I would steal Claudia Henderson’s potato salad recipe! She uses Miracle Whip, the heathen!”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “There is nothing wrong with Miracle Whip, babe.”

“I like to add my own seasoning and that stuff throws off the whole balance!” Steve protested.

Eddie kissed his cheek. “If you say so, Stevie.”

Steve blushed and they finished their shopping.

They went back to Steve’s so that they could put away his groceries and make the sandwiches.

They stood side by side as they made their sandwiches. Then they packed the cooler.

Steve bullied Eddie into putting on sunscreen by telling him that he need to strip for it.

Eddie was naked in no time at all and moaned the injustice of it all when Steve told him he already had some on.

They loaded everything into Eddie’s rental and sent off for the Chicago zoo.

Eddie was most excited to see the primate enclosure, while Steve wanted to see the wild cats. He couldn’t call them ‘big’ cats because the African Blackfoot was the size of house kitten. And that wasn’t included the manuls. Or Pallas’ cat. Grumpy faces, short little legs, and fluffy as hell.

Eddie pointed to one of the manul kittens. “That one looks like Dustin!” he cackled.

Steve laughed. “It really does!” He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.

He sent it to Dustin with tag, “I didn’t know you were at the Zoo today!”

The response he got back was a single eye roll emoji.

“You know,” Eddie said looking over Steve’s shoulder, “I swear that butthead has gotten less fun over the years.”

“I know, right?”

They got to the aquatic part of the zoo and there was this little boy who couldn’t have been older than two or three just glued to the otter exhibit. He had both hands on the glass as the otters swam and splashed as if they were showing off for just this little boy.

“I think they have to be that cute at that age to avoid you murdering them when they go on a tear in their underwear smearing poo on the entire hallway,” Eddie said with a grin.

Steve laughed. “Let me guess there are pictures of baby Eddie doing exactly that?”

Eddie pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels. “I plead the fifth.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn them when you turned eighteen.”

They moved on to the elephants.

“I tried!” Eddie cried. “Wayne won’t tell me where they are. He says he wants to show them to my future partner so he can see if they pass the litmus test.”

Steve kissed his knuckles. “And what test is that?”

“Whether or not they’d except the crazy with the sane,” Eddie murmured.

Steve pulled him in close. “I prefer the crazy to the sane, baby. The crazy keeps me from getting too far into my head.” He kissed the tip of his nose. “Okay?”

Eddie gave him a quick hug. “It’s no fair, because Wayne already loves you, so I don’t get to watch him get all protective and shit.”

Steve gave a half shrug. “I think I got enough of the protective father figure when we first started being friends, Eds. I think he actually growled at me once.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, my god, I forgot he did that.”

Steve just smiled as they took their time through the whole zoo, just holding hands and being with each other.

Finally it was time for lunch and Steve went to go get their cooler while Eddie found them a picnic table.

****

Part 5

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

[billlydear]

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART THREE | FINAL PART) | PART ONE | PART TWO

word count: 9492 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: mentions of injuries (healed/healing), trauma, discussions of billy's past, angst with a fluffy ending, cows !

A/N: oh my gosh ! the end ! it feels like i've been working on this forever and thinking about it even longer, and as a new-ish writer on the billy scene, i just want to thank you all for how sweet you've been, in response to this fic and many others. your support is so important to me, and i'm so glad that many of you enjoyed this fic. i hope that you like the ending, too, please tell me what you think!

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

You wake up beside Billy Hargrove differently than you’d fallen asleep beside him. Where his face had been previously tucked snug to your neck, his breath fanning out over your collarbones, his cheek is smushed to your chest now. His arm is slung over your stomach, one of his legs thrown over your own as his torso lays slumped up against yours. His cheek chubs up where it’s resting on your breast, and- god, his eyelashes are beautiful. The eyes behind them are just as gorgeous, but for now you’re glad they’re shut. He looks so relaxed, so peaceful, and you’d stay still for an eternity beneath him if it meant he’d be able to stay in that drowsy state of serenity. 

His curls are mussed with sleep, bent out of shape and frizzy where they’d typically be slicked. There’s still bruises littered over his face but they’ve already begun healing, shifting in color to be lighter and less jarring. 

Your fingers come up without you noticing to brush over one of his curls. It’s soft to the touch, and you give it an experimental squeeze, watching as it bounces back. You notice that it’s tangled slightly with another strand, and brush your pinky between them to separate the tangle.

It must tug lightly on Billy’s scalp, because he heaves an unconscious sigh. You wait for him to frown, to wake and snap at you for touching his precious hair, but he never does. Instead he settles again, eyes still firmly shut.

You can’t help it; you reach for his scalp. Your nails scrape gently, ever-so-slightly over his skin, brushing over hundreds of individual strands of hair rooted there and curled together. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he moves. He hums, deep, soft, and low in his throat, the sound vibrating in his chest that’s pressed to your side. It sends a shiver up your spine, but it’s quickly quelled with the warmth that comes from his face as he presses it even further into your chest. Now his cheek is practically invisible, buried in your breast and angling his nose to one side. He tightens his arm around your waist, hoisting himself up and over you even further than he’d been before. He reminds you of a cat, purring and leaning into soft touches.

He seems to like it, so you don’t stop. You rove your fingers through every inch of his scalp, scratching and stroking and smoothing through his curls until they’re a mass of individual strands instead of grouped twists. It’s ridiculously soft, and you wonder how you’ve been able to refrain from touching his hair before now.

There’s nothing you’d rather do than stay here for eternity. Holding him, brushing through his hair, loving him. But your bladder has other wishes. 

Wrestling yourself out from under him is difficult, but he accepts a pillow in exchange for your torso. He burrows his face into it just the same, and you can’t help but brush over his curls one last time as you stand over him, tucking the blankets up and around his shoulders.

When he’s securely tucked into your covers and snoozing away, you pad out of your bedroom, thankful that your parents work early shifts.

You seem to have woken up at a perfect time to make a breakfast larger than you normally do. It takes double the time to prepare a meal for the two of you, and you’re thankful that you think to group the eggs together in a pan to cut that extra time down. You’re setting plates at the table, stuffed with eggs, toast, and fresh fruit when Billy emerges from the hallway, staring cautiously at you where he stands.

His hair is haphazardly smoothed, but there’s no fixing the frizz that your fingers had worked out of it. Your clothes look good on him, even if the sweatpants are stretched over his upper calves instead of at his ankles from how he’d shifted in his sleep. Your shirt is riding up at his stomach and you politely avoid looking at his toned torso, even if you really want to.

“Breakfast,” You hum, pointing your spatula at the table, “Orange juice or milk?”

“Uh-” He flounders, blinking rapidly, “Water, please. Or- I can get it.”

He makes to step towards the kitchen but you whirl your spatula around to face him, intent on pampering the boy, “No, just go sit down. I can do it.”

He looks properly chided, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ducks to hide it from you.

You set an ice cold glass of water at his place and notice that he’s waited to begin eating until you sat down. You give him the go-ahead, digging into a chunk of egg with your fork.

“Sleep good?” You glance up at him, a questioning glance shot through your lashes. He nods, silent and careful, and you realize that he seems to have closed himself off since last night, and you think that maybe leaving the bed before he woke wasn’t the best idea, even if it was just to make breakfast. You try remedying it by knocking your foot against his under the table, and he nearly chokes on his water. You leave your foot pressed flush to his own, a constant reminder of your touch on his skin.

“Does your stomach still hurt?” You try again, gulping down OJ. 

“A bit,” His morning voice is raspy and you know you’re going to fawn over it later, even if you’re trying hard not to take advantage of his vulnerability.

“It’s mostly a cut up here,” He reaches a hand under his (your) shirt, rubbing at a patch below his left pec. You can see his fingers move under the shirt, and you remember the wound that’s there from last night.

“That probably means your ribs aren’t broken,” You conclude, relief washing over you at the fact that his bruises are just that.

“Nah, not broken,” He shakes his head, stuffing fruit into his mouth and ignoring the way juice drips down his chin, “I know what a broken rib feels like.”

You still, looking up suspiciously at him with your head ducked to your plate. His shoulders slump, “Just some kid from school. He had rings on, and he hit hard.”

“Oh,” You supply lamely, “I’m glad they healed.”

You eat in silence for a few bites, but he doesn’t shy away from your touch beneath the table, and you’re thankful for that. He even shifts his foot to press more against yours, his sock slightly itchy against your skin. Right after he leans into your touch, he speaks.

“My dad doesn’t usually… do this. This was bad, he tries not to leave marks. I think-” He hesitates, and you nudge his foot with your own again, encouraging him, “I think he’d be even more angry if I missed school than whatever he was mad about in the first place. So he has to keep things inconspicuous. And if anyone sees anything I just have to make excuses.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, not out of pity, but sympathy, “I… I really don’t know how you do it. You’re strong, Billy, y’know that?”

He scoffs into his honeydew.

“I mean it,” You press on, “You just… take it. You let him do that to you because if you fight back other people might get hurt, and that takes strength. Even if it feels weak to get beat on, just know you’re saving your stepsister and her mom, and… I’m proud of you.”

He stills for a moment, jaw stiffening in the middle of a chewing motion. He swallows dry, but whatever it is goes down fine, and he clears his throat without meeting your eye.

“He used to hit my mom,” Billy admits, voice now hoarse from emotion rather than sleep. He scrunches his eyes shut momentarily, “I.. I couldn’t stop him. I was too young. And she left. So I guess I just… got bigger. Just in case.”

You recall seeing a set of weights in his living room. You had presumed they were his, but hadn’t bothered to ask among discussions of mitosis. Now, though, you realize he’s bulked himself up to combat his dad’s abuse, even if he uses it to protect others rather than himself.

It spreads a thin layer of mist over your eyes, the thought of preteen Billy experimenting with handheld five-pounders in hopes of blocking a punch. What hits you even harder is his current image, a toned teen who still doesn’t have the heart to hit back.

You can’t figure out how to respond. If you say you’re proud of him again, he might shut down. If you sound like you’re pitying him, he’ll be angry. So instead you reach over the table, your fork clattering to the wood as you take his free hand.

He’s startled by the sudden movement paired with the noise, but he makes up for his momentary flinch by ghosting his thumb softly over the back of your hand. His fingers don’t curl against yours, so it’s not a mutual gesture, you’re just holding his hand. Slowly, surely, his fingers move inch by inch, slipping between your own and settling against your skin.

You wonder if it’s the first time anyone’s ever held his hand.

“Thanks,” He breathes, his breath a huff of cantaloupe scent. He sniffles, hard, aggressively, and you know he doesn’t want you to acknowledge the tear that streaks fast down his cheek. 

You let him wipe it away without saying anything, even though you want to tell him it’s okay. You hope that the way you squeeze his hand tells him that, though, because it’s true. It’s okay for him to cry, and you’re glad that, even if he tries hiding it around you, he feels safe enough to let the tears fall in the first place.

The rest of your breakfast is filled with mindless chatter, a few gossip strands weaving their way through an otherwise pleasant conversation. He learns that Amanda Weaver has been telling everyone he gave her a promise ring, but you’d seen her fish the plain silver band off of her keychain. 

“I don’t even know her,” He snorts, “And promise rings are dumb.”

Your nose wrinkles, “I don’t think so. They’re cute.”

“They’re pointless,” He insists, shoveling egg into his mouth, “Having a ring to chuck in the garbage is gonna hurt a whole lot more when they leave.”

“If.” You murmur.

“Hm?” He glances up at you, mouth full.

“If they leave.” You correct him quietly, “Some people stay.”

He’s frozen. Baby blues unblinking, he stares at you like a deer in headlights. You hold his gaze with your own steady one, waiting until his brain wraps around what you’re really trying to tell him: I’ll stay.

He’s quiet, for a long time. He keeps his eyes on his eggs, roving over every crease and hill in their structure. Then he mumbles so soft you can barely hear it, “Right.”

There’s a thousand things you want to say. A thousand promises you want to make, a thousand reassuring words you want to mumble against his skin so that they’re absorbed. But the not-so-nice blare of your kitchen timer kindly reminds you it’s time to get to school, and you settle for none at all.

“Shit,” You mumble, shoveling your last bite of melon into your mouth and standing, “I’ll get my-!” 

You glance back at him when you feel a tug, and he’s sitting in place, hand still entwined with yours. He’s cautious, frozen, and you melt into a smile, squeezing his hand.

“My bag.” You clarify, “Are we taking the bus, or walking to your place?”

“Let’s walk,” He decides, his hand never letting up in its grip on yours. It’s bold, it’s forward, it’s healing.

“Okay,” You grin, keeping your fingers tightly curled around Billy’s and tugging him up through the shared embrace, “Let’s go! I’ve gotta be on time today, we’re taking a quiz in first period.”

“We don’t have to go in, we can just get my car.” He lets you drag him to the living room, “The only thing I keep in my bag are cigarettes, anyways. I can bum a few.”

“Billy,” You scold, “Where do your papers go?”

“In the trash.”

“Nice,” You scoff, wincing as you step outside and the harsh sunlight hits your eyes. You fumble with your house keys, slipping them into the lock to close up the house, “I’m gonna buy you a binder. And you’re gonna put your school stuff in it, nice and neat, and you’re gonna carry a pencil, and you’re gonna bring water, and you’re gonna-”

“And you’re gonna fall,” He yanks on your hand, pulling you tight to his side as he points at a rock you’d been headed for, “Pay attention, clumsy.”

“Oh.” You flounder, his toned arm against your cheek as you struggle to right yourself, “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” He flashes you a grin you’ve seen before, primarily aimed at his basketball teammates or a girl he’s chatting up. It’s confident, shit-eating, and it sends a wave of butterflies through your stomach.

The walk to his house isn’t terribly long. It’s a trek, for sure, but you’re there in under a half-hour, laughing all the while. Billy’s hand is still firmly gripping yours, and he’s funny, you remember, when he’s not crying.

“Dad’s not home,” He clocks the car missing from the driveway, “I can get mine and go.”

“Get your bag,” You order, face stern and brows scrunched, “And don’t throw away any of your school papers today!”

“No promises, babe,” He teases, his own key in his pocket as he jams it into the door. You’re thankful that he turns away to step inside so that he doesn’t see your eyes widen at the nickname, but you hope your hand doesn’t begin to sweat, or he’ll notice.

“Maxine?” He calls, shouting through the house. There’s no reply, and her sneakers aren’t by the front door, so you presume she’s not home.

“Probably skated,” Billy shrugs, “My bag’s in my room.”

He doesn’t have to drag you there, you know the way. You send a withering glare towards the room at the end of the hall, where you know Billy’s dad sleeps, as if it’ll cast a curse over the doorway and land him seven years of bad luck. You see the fireplace poker on your way, set neatly back in its place. There’s blood on it.

He changes quick, and you occupy yourself with the collection of tapes by his closet. He’d yanked your shirt right off of his head like you weren’t standing there, but when you’d turned with burning cheeks to give him some privacy, he hadn’t said anything.

Billy’s persistence on holding your hand is sweet, but surprising. The last thing you’d have expected from him was a clingy puppy-boy, but his head turns to track you whenever your hand nearly slips out of his own, and he wrestles with his bag one-handed instead of dropping the embrace. You’re just glad he’s finally holding onto something good in his life instead of pushing it away.

You think it’s a massive inconvenience that he can’t drive while holding your hand. He tries, at first, resting them on the center console, but when he changes lanes and almost overshoots it, you pry your hand out of his own.

“Two hands,” You laugh bashfully, “It’s okay, we- uh, later… later we can…”

“Later,” He turns his head to grin at you, a brilliant display as he slaps his now-free hand onto the wheel,  “Later’s good.”

Unfortunately, later gets pushed back a lot. When Billy pulls into the parking lot, the bell rings. He knows you’re going to be late for your quiz, so he doesn’t try to keep you, smiling softly, “Just go. See you in bio.”

Then between classes, you catch a glimpse of him in the hall. Your stomach starts acting up again, butterflies coming in droves, mind reeling with the thought of him grabbing your hand in public. He almost does, eyes widening as he catches sight of you, broad shoulders muscling everyone out of the way. But before he can reach you, a similarly-toned man steps up beside him, a basketball jersey slung over his frame.

He talks, and talks, and talks and talks and talks, all waving arms and loud jeering. Billy tries holding your gaze over his shoulder, nodding mindlessly along to whatever the boy is saying, but the warning bell rings and you send him a soft, defeated smile.

‘Later,’ You mouth, and his eyes dim when he nods.

Your efforts are futile at lunch, too. He has the class period before with a few of his friends, loud and brash, not your style. It means that you occupy your normal seat, a corner of a bench that the group to your left isn’t using, and tug out a book to entertain yourself. You feel his gaze burning against the side of your head, but if you get caught staring at him, his friends will turn it into some wild story about how you’re infatuated with him, and you’re not the type of person that makes that observation a compliment, at least, not to Billy’s friends. You almost hope he stops looking at you, too, because if they catch him staring, you don’t know how they’ll torment you.

It almost kills him to wait until you’re seated together in biology to reach for your hand. You’d never seen him arrive to class earlier than today, he’s even there before you are. He doesn’t bother to hide his staring, icy eyes tracking you from the second you walk through the door to the second you sit beside him.

You’re thankful that you’re officially seated together now, and you’re thinking that maybe you don’t hate group projects as much as you thought you did.

“Hey,” He murmurs, sliding his hand across the back of yours under the desk.

“Hey,” You hum, flipping your hand over to meet his palm-to-palm.

Everything seems right with the world again.

There’s a certain security you get from Billy’s touch, even if he probably gets more from yours. Having someone to hold grounds you, and you hope it does the same for him. It’s strange, feeling such a strong connection to someone you’d only started talking to days before, but you suppose that’s what happens when you remove all of the formalities of friendship. Your first sleepover just happened to be in an effort to keep him alive, not to eat junk food and watch movies.

You try to pay attention to the teacher, you really do. But she’s nowhere near as interesting as the soft scratching of Billy’s pencil on your paper, and you can’t help but watch as he writes.

You need a ride home?

You reach for your own pencil, scrawling your answer and sliding the paper to him in response

I can take the bus. You should take Max, she skated this morning.

He nearly breaks his pencil writing: She’s got tutoring after school today, she skates home anyways.

Okay, You decide, and you see him smile out of the corner of his eye as you write the word, Thanks, Billy.

He squeezes your hand, and he doesn’t need to write ‘You’re welcome’ for you to know it’s what he’s saying.

Biology typically drones on. You try to stay on top of your schoolwork, of course, but that doesn’t mean you enjoy it. The class is suddenly a lot less dreary with Billy beside you, and it becomes a game of stifling giggles. He steps on the toe of your shoe beneath the table, you tug at one of his curls. He crowds your space with his shoulder and nudges you to the edge of your seat, you let go of his hand to pinch at his thigh. He has to stifle a groan at that one, and to do so he thumps his head forwards on his desk, using the cool plastic against his forehead to quell his rugged laughter.

The thunk of his head against the desk alerts your teacher, and you sit up straight, eyes on your paper that’s covered in doodles as you try not to laugh. She scoffs, seeing Billy slumped over the desk, and probably assumes he’s fallen asleep. When she turns away, you elbow him, dipping your head down to where his rests on the desk to whisper in his ear.

“Cut it out,” You hiss, kicking his foot beneath the desk, “She almost saw!”

“Oh no,” He gushes, turning his head so that a sliver of his face shows, glinting with a shit-eating grin, “Do you think we’ll get in trouble?”

“It’s not funny!” You insist, keeping your voice as hushed as possible, “I’ve never been in trouble before, and if I get sent to the principal’s office, I’ll-”

“Y/L/N! Hargrove!” You stiffen at the voice of your teacher, your eyes widening where Billy’s only sparkle with excitement, “You two seem distracted. Anything on your minds?”

“Not mitosis.” Billy quips, straightening up from the desk and leaning back in his chair. He earns a few laughs from his scattered friends, and the teacher’s face hardens. Your stomach drops.

“You think you’re funny? You’re one missed homework assignment from failing this class. And now you’re dragging Y/N into this, too? Both of you, head to the front office. This ends here.”

There are tears burning at your eyes. You’re not the best student in the world. Hell, you’re not even in the top ten. But you’re not a bad one either, at best you slip through the cracks. You’ve never had disciplinary action taken against you, and gathering your things amongst the tense silence of your peers feels like a death sentence. 

Billy barely remembers to get his own bag, and he pointedly leaves his papers scattered over his desk. You scoop them up in your own handful, and he waits diligently by your side as you pick up your things. When you’re finally packed up he snatches your hand from where it’s hanging at your side, marching the both of you to the door.

He offers the teacher a very quaint, very polite middle finger as he drags you out of the door, and that’s what does it. The second the door shuts behind you, you burst into tears.

He looks up, alarmed at the sob you let out. The classroom you’d just exited has a row of windows that your back is facing, and he’s worried that if you turn slightly, your classmates will see you cry. As much as you’d told him it was okay to cry this morning, he’s sure you wouldn’t want your peers witnessing the meltdown you’re having. He acts fast, using your intertwined hands and yanking you into the nearest bathroom.

Your sobs echo off of the tile, and he pulls you haphazardly into his chest. Your head rests there pitifully, shoulders slumped as you cry.

“Jesus, okay,” He pants, peering under the few stalls in the back to make sure you’re alone, “What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know!” You do know, but it feels embarrassing to say it out loud, “I just- I’ve never been in trouble before, and it’s going on my-” You break to quell another sob, tamping it down in your chest, “Permanent record, and-!”

“Okay, calm down.” Billy scoffs, and you’re surprised to find that it’s not a derogatory one, but a fond one, “It’s fine. All we were doing was talking, it’s not like we were smoking weed in the bathroom.”

Your head shoots up and you recognize your surroundings. You glare at him suspiciously, “You don’t have any weed on you, right?”

“No!” He laughs incredulously, “I do not have any weed on me. Now,” He takes your shoulders in his broad hands, and your fingers go cold now that his aren’t intertwined with them anymore.

“You and I are gonna calm down,” He tells you, voice slow and steady. You’re the only one that needs to calm down, but you appreciate his cooperation.

“Then we’re gonna leave this bathroom, and do you know where we’re gonna go?”

“The front office,” You recite, but he breaks into a grin, shaking his head so that his curls fly.

“But that’s where she told us-”

“She can suck my dick.” Billy scoffs, “She made you cry. Forget her.”

“Billy, I can’t just forget her,” You insist, eyes wide and teary, “She’s our teacher!”

“Today’s Friday,” He reminds you, “She’s not our teacher again until Monday.”

“Fine. Where are we really going?” You look at him skeptically, raising your hand to wipe your nose against its back.

“Okay, first, ew.” Billy wrinkles his nose, yanking your hand away from your face and wiping it with a paper towel that he jerks out of the machine. He wipes your nose next, but he does it aggressively, smearing the paper towel against your face and pushing your head back until you’re laughing, trying to swat him away. The sound makes him smile, and it doesn’t fade as he continues talking.

“We’re gonna go see a movie,” He decides, hiking the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. Your face darkens slightly, goofy grin dimming.

“We can’t.” You protest softly, “She told us to go to the front office. You said it yourself, Billy, we were just talking. But if we ditch, we’ll be in more trouble, real trouble.”

“I’m always in trouble,” He huffs, “And you’re never in trouble. You really think this’ll be a breaking point for either of us?”

“What’s gonna happen when we don’t show up to the office?”

“They’ll give us detention.”

“We have to go, then!” Your eyes go wide, and you start for the door. He lunges for your hand, grabbing it just before you can push your way out, and this time he doesn’t drop it when he pulls you back inside.

“Detention means we’ll get to sit together for two hours and mess around.”

“No we can’t,” You scoff, “They monitor you. So we can’t just mess around.”

“Hey.” He snaps, begging your attention with those icy blue eyes of his, “Have you ever been in detention before?”

“No.” You admit quietly.

“Right. I have. They don’t care. They don’t want to be there, and they know we don’t either. They’re not gonna punish us any further, ‘cause then they’d just have to sit there with us for longer. Trust me, this will be fun.”

“Fun,” You groan, slumping forwards into his chest rather than covering your face with your hands. It’s a bold move, but a well-received one, and you feel his firm chest shake as he chuckles.

“Yes, fun.” He promises, “But if you really wanna walk up to that office and get lectured…”

“Billy,” You bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your head up so that your chin rests against his chest, “I.. I do. I’m sorry, I know you want to have fun, and- and you can go to the movies if you want! But I don’t want detention on my record. Even if it won’t do anything, I just- it sounds bad.”

“Okay.” He says, after a moment of tense silence. His grin fades, but he doesn’t scoff or push you away. He sighs dramatically, “You’re changing me, y’know. Normally I’d be halfway home by now, but you’ve got me hauling myself in to see the principal, this is bullshit.”

“I told you you could go to the movies!” You gush, laughing weakly at his dramatic display. He brings one of his large hands up to your face, smearing his rough thumb beneath your eyes and wiping away the sticky tear tracks there.

“No,” He sighs again, huffing and puffing, “I’m the one that got you in trouble, I’m not gonna ditch you. We’ll just suffer together.”

His words strike something in you. He’s chosen to change himself, to face consequences for his actions when he’d normally flee. You’re proud of him, so insanely proud that you decide to change yourself as well, and when he leads you towards the office by your intertwined hands, you turn sharply and drag him the other way.

“Wha- Woah.” His eyes widen as you yank him down the hallway, your feet slapping against the shitty linoleum flooring. You beeline for the door, bursting into the daylight with your adrenaline-pumped chest heaving. You come to a stop just outside the building, looking back at him with a thrill glowing in your eyes.

“What movie are we seeing?” You pant, and his grin reappears.

“You’re trouble.” He declares in a laugh, “Let’s go.”

Billy drives fast. This time it doesn’t seem like recklessness, though, but fun. The windows are rolled down, and wind whips through the car and ruffles your hair. His own blonde curls are flying, in his face and over his shoulders against the seat.

“Slow down!” You shriek, laughing through your words, “We’re gonna crash!”

“What are we gonna crash into,” He gestures to the empty road in front of you, all farmland and dust as the same laughter bleeds into his own voice, “A haybale? You want me to slow down so you can admire the scenery?”

There is no scenery. There’s fields, half-dead grass rolling on for miles and miles and passing by so fast that it looks like the sand on a beach. The sky is your ocean, blue and foamy white where clouds streak across it. You pass isolated barns, groves of trees, and-

“Cows!”

“What?”

“Cows! There’s cows up there,” You gush, pointing aggressively at the pasture, “Stop!”

“I can’t-! Uh, okay,” Billy rushes to step on the brakes, wheels screeching against the poorly-paved asphalt as he skids to a stop.

You’re surprised he doesn’t burn through his tires with how fast he stops. You’re out of the car before he can even turn to look at you, seatbelt long unbuckled in favor of dashing for the cows. They’re grazing aimlessly in their pasture, only a weak white fence standing between you and them.

“Hey- Hey!” Billy shouts, rushing to get himself out of the car. He’s panting slightly when he finally stands beside you, regarding you with an indignant look, “What the fuck was that about?”

“Cows,” You croon, sticking your hands over the fence and reaching for the animals, “Come pet the cows with me, Billy!”

One of them seems very interested in any potential snacks your hand might be hiding. Its large, wet nose bumps against your skin and you laugh, long and loud and free, letting the animal explore your scent and petting along its face when it finally realizes you have nothing yummy to offer it.

There’s damp bits of grass stuck to your arm from where its mouth nuzzles against you,, and its tongue is purple when it comes out to swipe along your skin. You shriek, the sound morphing into an elated giggle.

“Oh,” Billy’s nose wrinkles and he takes a step back, “Gross.”

“It’s not gross!” You insist, pulling your arm away to wipe the grass on your jeans, “That’s just what cows do. You’ve never pulled over to pet some?”

“No,” He scoffs, “That’s the most ‘country’ shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah,” You nod gleefully, and he thinks maybe you’ve misinterpreted the scathing tone of his voice, “Come on, Billy, come pet the cows!”

“No thanks,” He shakes his head, “I’m gonna go smoke in the car. Jus’ come back when you’re done.”

You let him head back to the car only for long enough to get a few more scratches in under the chin of a cow to your right. Then you beeline for the passenger’s side, and Billy looks surprised at your arrival.

“Done?”

“No,” You shake your head, reaching for your backpack, “I’m just getting my strawberries.”

“Uh,” Billy watches, apprehensive as you pull a plastic bag of the fruit from your backpack, “You’re not gonna feed those to the cows, are you?”

“Duh,” You nod, pulling the bag open and nearly ripping the seam, “Cows love strawberries, I feed ‘em all the time.”

“You what?” Billy looks at you like you’ve told him you’re made of the red fruit you’re holding, “You’re gonna stick your fingers next to those animal’s faces with food in your hands and you don’t think they’re gonna bite you?”

“No, Billy, cows don’t bite! Not like that,” You insist, hair flying as you shake your head. “I’m not gonna put my fingers in their faces, I’m gonna hold the strawberries on my palm. Then they can’t bite me. Come on, I’ll show you!”

“I’m not feeding cows,” Billy insists, but he moves to get out of the car anyway. When he’s standing at full height he rips the cigarette out from between his lips, blowing smoke into the road, “But I’m not gonna let you run off on your own and get mauled by some hunk of beef.”

“You’re totally gonna feed the cows,” You grin, eyes narrowed at him as you turn on your heel and head back to the fence, “You’ll see!”

You’re already jamming your hand under a cow’s mouth, a strawberry staining your palm red and sticky, when Billy saunters up to the fence. He watches warily as you let the cow nose at your fingers, then it sticks its tongue out to sweep the fruit off of your skin.

You giggle at the ticklish feeling, but Billy’s mouth falls open in horror.

“Oh,” He groans, nose scrunched and grimace strong, “That’s so fucking gross. Its tongue is purple.”

“It’s cool!” You insist, offering the cow a hearty rub between the ears as it munches on your strawberry, hand slimy with spit, “Is there much farmland in California?”

“A bit,” Billy shrugs, blissfully unaware of the curious cow sneaking up behind him as he’s turned towards you, leaning sideways on the fence. “It’s kind of a mix. We didn’t live anywhere near farmland, but sometimes we went to visit Susan’s-!”

Before he can tell you what random relative lived far out in the California farmlands, there’s a cow tongue in his ear.

He jolts away from the fence with a squawk, nearly toppling over as one hand comes up to cover his ear. You’re roaring with laughter even as you help steady him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his waist while he stumbles to a stop a few feet away from the fence.

“He was looking for strawberries,” You giggle, pulling your sleeve over your hand to wipe cow spit off of his cheek, “I think that was your official welcome to Indiana, Billy.”

“Laugh all you want,” He groans, smearing his own hand over his face to rid his skin of any residual slime you’d missed, “But if we ever make it to an ocean and you wipe out, I’m laughing at you.”

“Deal,” You grin sideways at him, another strawberry in hand.

Of course, Billy does end up feeding the cows. It takes another round of hand-holding, though, where you place the strawberry in his palm and flatten yours beneath it. 

“Just be patient,” You murmur, feeling Billy’s hand tense as the cow noses at his fingers, “He just wants to say hi.”

“We’ve been acquainted,” Billy drawls, grimacing once more as the cow licks the strawberry off of his palm, “He tried eating the thoughts out of my head.”

“What thoughts?” You tease, but before you can gauge the situation and figure out whether you need to start running or not, Billy flips his hand over his shoulder to where you’re standing pressed to his back, and smears his sticky palm across your face.

“Oh,” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut and nose scrunched. You stagger backwards, nearly colliding with his car,  “Gross!”

“Oh, really?” Billy roars with laughter, grabbing you around the waist and leaning his chin over your shoulder as he presses your back to his chest, “I thought it was an Indiana welcome! I thought it was cool!”

“Not when you do it!” You can’t help but laugh, trying desperately to hold the cracked pieces of your disgusted facade together, “You’re not as cute as a cow!”

You’re lying, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“And to think,” He scoffs, loosening his hold on you but not letting go completely, “I was gonna buy your movie ticket for you.”

You’d almost forgotten your movie adventure. You’d been so wrapped up in having fun with Billy, soaring down the streets with music blaring from the speakers that you’d completely ignored the way he’d driven miles away from any nearby movie theater.

“Hey, yeah,” You stiffen in his grip, turning your head to knock your forehead with his. You try not to pay attention to how close you two are, keeping your focus on his stunning blue eyes, “Why are we out here? The theater’s back that way.” You jerk your thumb behind you in the direction you’d came, and his face settles into a smirk once more.

“We’re not going to that shitty theater,” He boasts, “We’re going to a drive-in. It’s a few miles into the next town over.”

It makes sense, you suppose. He has a cool car, and what better place to show it off?

“I’ve never been to a drive-in,” You gush, excitement brewing in your belly, “What are the showtimes?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, finally letting you go to saunter back to his car and lower himself into the driver’s seat. You follow to the passenger’s side, tucking the empty plastic bag back in your backpack.

“We’ll catch something.” He reasons, hands finally back on the wheel as you shut your door and buckle your seatbelt, “People around here have nothing better to do, I bet there’s movies playing every hour.”

He gets started on the road once more, and you decide to let him drive uninterrupted. Although it hurts you to watch unpet cows whizz by the windows, you know you’ll be back too late if you keep stopping. When his tires crunch against gravel, then smooth over dirt, the unlit neon sign of the drive-in looms overhead. He leans out of the window at the counter, ordering a large popcorn and two sodas along with your tickets in that rough drawl of his.

He’s a bit rough when he stops on the asphalt, but that’s just how he drives. He’s used to driving recklessly, it’s not a habit easily broken. You hope you can help him live better, sending him a soft, sweet smile as he passes you your soda.

“This view good?” He glances over at you, hand already buried in the popcorn.

You nod emphatically, “Mhm! What movie?”

“No clue,” He lets out a huff of a laugh, “Does it really matter?”

“No,” You shrug, “‘Guess not.”

“It’s almost five,” Billy glances at his watch, “Are your parents gonna freak if you’re not home by dark?”

“They’re having dinner with friends tonight,” You recall relievedly, “They’ll probably be out way later than us. And they’ll just leave dinner in the fridge, they won’t know I’m gone.”

“Nice,” Billy nods, absentmindedly gnawing on a solid popcorn kernel, “My dad never goes out with friends. He doesn’t really have any, I don’t think. Susan does, work friends, but she’s probably not eager to show off her husband.”

He speaks about his dad with a bitter tone in his voice, words coming out brittle like they’ll snap if he tries putting any feeling into them. You hum in understanding; if your husband was like Neil Hargrove, you wouldn’t bring him around your friends either.

“You have friends,” You hum, “Don’t you ever eat out with them?”

“Uh,” He turns his head to stare expectantly at you, “Hello? Remember how I drove you a town over to see a movie, and I let you stop us halfway to stage a petting zoo?”

“I don’t mean me,” You gush, “Like, your other friends! The guys on the basketball team, or whoever you usually hang out with. That little crowd. You don’t go out with them?”

“Not really,” Billy shrugs, “They’re not my friends. Not like- um,” He drops his gaze to his lap, picking at the bucket of popcorn, “Not like you are.”

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, then you wet your throat to speak again, “They seem… no offense, shallow. Like- like they only talk about superficial stuff together. I’ve heard some of your conversations, I think.”

“Oh, so you’re updated on the riveting world of Hawkins High’s popularity pageant?” He scoffs, reaching for a cigarette, “Shit’s so stupid.”

“You say that from the top of the food chain,” You point out tentatively, “You don’t like it there?”

“It’s better than nothing.” He slows his attempts to self-medicate, hand frozen where he’s striking his lighter, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m not getting pushed into lockers. But, it’s like-” His fingers tighten slightly around the cig, jaw tight, “I got there because of what I have, not who I am. And not even that, I got there because of what it looks like I have. They think I’m some kind of rich kid ‘cause I have a nice car, but we’re lucky we don’t live in the trailer park. They think I’m mowing my way through the cheerleading team because they’ve seen us talking before. Sure, maybe I’ve flirted with a few, but-” His face darkens in frustration, nose scrunching slightly, “On the weekends, my dad makes me do shit around the house. And on the weekdays, I’m looking after my sister.” 

You don’t point out his slip-up, how in a fit of passion he’s dropped the ‘step-’. It’s nice to hear.

“I have no time to sleep around,” He chuckles darkly, disdainfully, “Not often. But because people like me, or- or like what they think of me, they just assume I’m selling myself out for it.”

“It’s bullshit,” He concludes, huffily so, “It’s all bullshit. And it’s not gonna last past high school.”

A tense silence falls over the car after he’s finished speaking. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised anymore, not after two days of emotional curveballs from the man, but you think it might be the most you’ve ever heard him speak.

He looks nervous, fiddling with the keys in his ignition. Before he can regret opening up, you reach out to take his hand, pulling it away from the keys and linking yours into it on his thigh.

“I’m glad I’m your friend, Billy.” You confess, equal parts honest and tender. You want the words to soak into his veins, flow through his bloodstream and bloom sweet blossoms inside that light up his dark world.

“Me too,” He breathes, eyes glued to your intertwined hands as he tightens his fingers into the grip. As if on cue, the movie screen lights up, and it’s just barely dark enough outside to see the film.

“Here we go,” You settle in your seat, keeping your hand securely in his own, “Popcorn?”

Billy uses his free hand to pass the bucket over, and you can feel the heat concealed by the thick paper bucket hovering just above your hands. You munch on the buttery snack, a kernel already lodged in your teeth.

To Billy’s slight disinterest, it’s an old romance movie. He should have known, all that ever plays at these movie marathon nights are romances and beach flicks. He has a fleeting thought that he’d rather be watching women in bikinis, but it seems like something he shouldn’t think while holding your hand, so he pushes it away and tries to focus on the grainy, black-and-white footage. 

The transatlantic accents and over-dressed main characters only hold his attention for a few minutes. But he’s family to Neil Hargrove, and he knows how to tune out a boring speech. He focuses more on the warmth that your hand pushes against his, sweet and soft and soothing like the blanket he used to get tucked in under at his grandma’s house. His grandma who knitted that blanket herself, just for him, and who slipped him strawberry sweets anytime his dad got too drunk to notice. And the way you hold his hand feels just like his mother used to, with her thumb stacked on his so that she could stroke it like you’re doing now. He’s only held his dad’s hand a few times, and he’s not able to remember much. He just remembers his mom had always dropped Neil’s hand in a big dramatic fashion, claiming that it was like holding a dead fish.

There’s nothing morbid about holding your hand, though. You’re not stiff and cold like his father, your fingers curve around his and mold to his skin. You not only reciprocate, you initiate, squeezing at a funny line or brushing over the back of his hand.

You’re all the best parts of the people he’s loved, and none of the bad parts of the ones he couldn’t. If he was any sleazier, he’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven.

You let out a particularly sweet laugh at a scene and the sound takes him back to only a few nights ago, sitting on his bed and feeling safe. He’d actually forgotten about his father until the man had stormed his bedroom, and he marvels at how you’d managed to suck the terrible thoughts from his head. 

Your study session puts mitosis in his mind. Then biology, and he wonders if there’s ever been two organisms more compatible with each other. Personally, he thinks your biology is pretty basic: you were made for him, and he was made for you. 

He’s broken out of his scientific reverie when your head falls to his shoulder. You throw a quick glance up at him through your lashes, silently begging for permission for something you’ve already done. His heart thuds in his chest as he watches you with curious eyes, and a slow nod of his head is all you need to settle against his side. You’re at an awkward angle, side arched over the center console to get your head to his shoulder. That makes it better, Billy thinks, that you had to work for it. It means you really mean it, that you’re not just doing it because it’s convenient. You’re loving him because you want to.

“Shitty movie,” Billy grumbles, his voice hoarse from its prolonged silence.

“Good popcorn,” You hum, reaching for another piece. Billy leans down to snatch it out of your hand with his teeth, and chews it with a growing grin as you chuckle. 

“You’re a monster,” You tease, and a word that his brain usually whispers at him past midnight, loathing in his thoughts and venom in his veins, becomes nothing more than a nickname.

He thinks he wants to be your monster if it makes you laugh like that, all teasing teeth and careful manhandling.

You’re almost afraid you’ve insulted him with the title until he leans his head against yours, neck bent at an angle. His ear is pressed to the crown of your head, and just in case he can hear your thoughts, you think extra hard: I love you.

You last longer than Billy had, but you lose interest in the film, too. It’s not that it’s boring, it’s just not particularly interesting, and your brain is moving too slow for you to concentrate on careful dialogue. Apparently, the excitement of the day has caught up with you. Your eyes are starting to droop, and you think Billy might be able to feel your lashes flutter against his bicep. If he can, he doesn’t say anything, he just stays curled around you in his seat.

Slowly, second by second, minute by minute, you fall asleep. You drift away from the world and all that remains is Billy’s arm against your cheek, his hand holding yours. You don’t know if you’re fully sleeping or not, all you know is that Billy is the one constant between your life and your dreams.

Billy feels your breathing even out, the soft puffs of air that hit his arm soft and consistent. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but he lifts his head to peer at your face, seeing that you are, in fact, asleep.

He has the strongest urge in the world to kiss your forehead. He doesn’t, half because he’s scared you’ll wake up and think he’s a creep, and half because he’s not sure he’s capable of loving back. He’s taking it slow, and he’ll stick with leaning his head on you. 

He does that until the movie’s almost over, and the romantic climax is shining on the screen.

The woman has fallen asleep on the man’s shoulder. They’re not in a car, they’re on a park bench, but her nose is nudged up against his bicep, too, and their hands are intertwined.

The man reaches up to her cheek, and so does Billy.

His hand is warm and slightly rough against the soft skin of your cheek, but it’s his warm breath against your face that wakes you. Your lashes flutter open, and the only thing you can see are Billy’s pretty blue eyes. You’re almost startled, almost caught off-guard, and then you notice the dark flecks of insecurity in them, ridged between peaks of blue like ocean waves. 

He can’t speak. He’s paralyzed, eyes unblinking against your own, unable to ask, to tell, to beg. All he can do is stare, and hope that his hand isn’t shaking against your cheek.

He licks his lips, and you know what he’s trying to muster up the courage to do.

“Billy,” You breathe, soft and careful, “Are you sure?”

He manages to hum questioningly, but it’s a choked sound from somewhere deep in his throat.

“You’re speeding again,” You let out a breathy chuckle, but you raise your hand to hold his to your face, “Is this because you want me or because you think you’ll never get the chance to have me again?”

“I want you,” Billy murmurs, and the man on screen echoes his sentiments.

The woman on screen leans in, and so do you.

The kiss you share is unlike anything Billy’s ever felt. What he’s used to is prodding tongues, nipping teeth, below-the-belt grabbing, but this is new. This is the soft, dewy sweetness of lips barely touching, and the watermelon balm spread over your mouth. It’s tender in the way that you hold his hand to your cheek, and only made more so by the fact that you’re still holding hands between the seats. It’s less of an active kiss and more of an embrace, lips holding each other in place and noses bumping.

Billy’s never felt safer letting his eyes drift shut. At night there’s always the possibility that his dad will unlock the door in the middle of the night and take out insomnia-fueled rage on him. In his car he’ll get arrested for loitering. Now there’s nothing but you, and that’s all he ever wants there to be.

There’s muted claps from the other cars around you as the movie ends, and you choose to attribute the closing scene of fireworks to your kiss and not the leads’. When you draw away it’s with soft, content sighs, awestruck and breathless.

“I want you too, Billy.” You vow, more than happy to let him know he’s loved, “I’m glad we didn’t go to the front office.”

“Me too,” Billy breathes, leaning in to brush his lips against yours one last time, just holding them there as his fluttering eyes stare into yours.

The sound of revving engines breaks you out of your trance, and Billy pulls away from your face to look over your head. He’s still got his hand on your cheek, and you’re cradled to his chest as he watches everyone around you disperse.

“Let’s head home,” You murmur into his collarbones, kissing the skin there chastely, “You can stay the night at my house again, if you want.”

“I should get home,” He admits reluctantly, “My dad is probably still freaked about last night.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go back,” You hum, tracing the outline of a bandage through his shirt against his stomach.

“Me too,” He sighs, and finally lets your face go when the overhead lights to the lot flick on, “But we’ll get out soon.”

“Oh? Where are we going?” You settle back in your seat, turning to face him with curious eyes.

“California,” He smiles, and his genuine one is a breathtaking sight, “And anywhere you want to stop along the way.”

“That sounds perfect,” You sigh happily, head leaning comfortably back against the headrest. A yawn breaks through your lips and scrunches up your face, and Billy has to fight himself so that he doesn’t pull over and kiss the lines near your mouth.

The silence in his car is peaceful now, serene. There’s nothing left unsaid anymore, nothing hidden in your eyes and nothing withheld in your touches. You drift off to sleep wishing you were still holding Billy’s hand, and when you wake up, you are.

“Hey,” He whispers, squeezing your hand where his is interlocked with it, “Hey, wake up. You’re home now, we’ve gotta get you inside.”

“Hm? Oh,” You hum, bleary eyes taking in the outline of your house against the harsh beams of Billy’s headlights. “Thanks, Billy.”

“Uh-huh,” He nods, offering you a hand after you undo your seatbelt, “C’mon, if you can stand, I’ll carry you up to bed.”

You;re more than happy to let him sweep you off of your feet. He can feel your smile as you bury it in his neck, and he doesn’t even worry about shutting his car off and locking it before he pushes open your front door. Sure enough there’s tinfoil covered dinner on the counter alongside a note from your parents, and Billy marvels at how well they take care of you even when they’re not home. 

“To the right,” You instruct him, realizing he’s only ever gotten into your room from the window outside, “And it’s the second door down.”

“Got it,” He murmurs, chin bumping your cheek.

Your bed is still unmade from that morning, and he yearns to slip beneath the covers again. He’s jealous when he tucks you in, and you’re glad you wore comfy clothing to school so that you can burrow under your blankets and not worry about changing.

“Goodnight,” Billy leans down, an inch away from your face, “Can I…?”

You lean up to do it for him, pushing your lips against his once more.

He melts into it, and the way that your nails scratch the hair at the base of his scalp only makes it worse.

“Goodnight,” You mumble, words wonky and misspoken against his lips, “I had fun today, Billy. I’m glad we’re friends, and I’m glad we’re more.”

“Me too,” He agrees, and the sentiments he’s agreeing to feel foreign to him. Five days ago he’d have been the least likely person on earth to have a friend, and now he’s got a partner to boot. In every sense of the word, he loves you, even if he won’t say those three words yet.

“Please be safe,” You cup his cheek, stroking over his slightly bruised cheekbone with tenderness he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to, “And if he hurts you again, stay with me instead.”

“I will,” Billy promises, dotting a dewy kiss to the side of your mouth as you settle into sleep, content with his safety.

He tells himself he’s just puttering around, throwing a stray sock into the laundry hamper and straightening a book he’d nearly knocked off of your nightstand on the way in. But really he’s waiting to make sure you’re really asleep, ring already slipped off of his finger and growing sweaty in his palm.

Once he’s sure you won’t wake, he peels back the covers on your bed, taking your hand in his. It’s got a familiar weight to it, a fact that he mentally celebrates, and his fingers shake as he slides the metal band onto your finger.

Having a ring to chuck in the garbage is gonna hurt a whole lot more when they leave, he reminds himself. Then, ‘If’.

“If they leave.” Your soft voice rings in his ears, and as he treks back to his car, revving the engine in the silvery light of the moon, there’s a feeling he’s never felt before rising in his chest. Hope: “Some people stay.”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

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Disneyland trip – Dawson Mercer

dawson!mercer x fem!reader summary: Your long-planned trip to Disneyland ends up being the best trip of your life when Dawson finally makes the last move for you to become a family A/N: Hi! Request that I've been working on for a while now, but it's finally done! So here you go!! requested: yes/no gif not mine likes are good, reblogs are better <3 word count: 1,25K warning(s): proposal, happy crying, Disneyland, cute Dawson, talks about the past but only a few sentences, kissing

masterlist | wip's

Sitting in the passenger seat, your leg bouncing from the excitement of visiting Disneyland. It has been your dream since you were a child, but your parents were so busy arguing your whole childhood, that they never took you there.

Your childhood wasn’t bad, but neither was good. Your weekends were spent in your room, as you played with your toys, or you were out with your friends.

Now sitting here, twenty-one years old, with your hot ass boyfriend driving you to the Disneyland in Anaheim. His hand resting on your tight, the other one gripping the steering wheel as he hums in the rhythm of the song playing on the radio. You look over at him, a loving smile forming on your lips as you place your hand on his, squeezing it.

“Thank you, Dawson,” you whisper not wanting to interrupt the pleasant silence. Dawson looks over to you, a small smile on his full lips.

“Every time, babes. You deserve the word. And I’ll do everything to give you one.” He brings your entwined hands to his mouth and kisses your every knuckle. Your cheeks redden at his words and action a quiet giggle escaping your lips. “We’re here baby.” He points towards the areal, your eyes catch the sleeping beauty castle. Your eyes light up with excitement as you bounce on the seat slightly, Dawson laughing at your excitement.

He parks the car in the empty parking space killing the engine. Before you can open your doors, he’s holding them open, helping you to get out.

“Here you go, princess.” He bows in front of you with a laugh.

“Idiot.” You giggle, closing the doors behind you. Dawson cages you between the car and his warm hard body.

“But yours baby,” he nuzzles his nose in your neck inhaling deeply. He loves how you smell. The sweet smell of your perfume and your body scent. “Only yours.” His eyes meet yours, his head bending down to connect your lips.

“Okay, let's go! I want to see everything.” You push him away after a while, almost running to buy a ticket. To your surprise, there are not many people waiting in line, so after ten minutes of waiting you and Dawson finally get your chance to buy the tickets. When the lady tells you the price, you pull your card out to pay for it only to be met with Dawson’s mobile on the payment terminal. You pour your lips, frowning at him, but you don’t say anything. With a smile and goodbye, you take the tickets finally walking towards the entrance.

You don’t what to look at first when you get in. There are so many things you want to see, but you know, you don’t have the time to see everything. You intertwine your hand with Dawson’s tugging him to the first thing you want to see. The Sleeping Beauty castle.

After an hour of walking around Disneyland, you’re having a small break to get some food and drink. You’re sitting on a bench in front of Critter Country, waiting for you to get on another attraction the many adventures of Winnie the Pooh. You’re holding a milkshake in your right hand with the left hand, you’re going through your bag to get some napkins out for you two. You look over at Dawson, who’s holding two big hotdogs in his hand, one halfway done as he chews on his bite. You took your hotdog from him, taking a bite by yourself, groaning at the taste.

“Uh, stop it!” Dawson says immediately, looking around. “That sound is only for my ears, love.” He says so seriously.

“I’m sorry, babe.” You giggle swallowing your bite.

“S’Okay, but hurry up, so we get in the house as soon as possible, okay?” Dawson stands up, and stands in front of you, shielding you from the sun. You look up at him your eyes are squinted from the light.

“Thank you.” Your words are muffled by the food in your mouth. Dawson nods his eyes, sipping from his drink.

When you’re done with your food and milkshake, you finally make your way inside the section. You’re currently walking over the human Winnie the Pooh when Dawson lets go of your hand. Not caring you keep looking around you in awe. But when you turn around after a few minutes, Winnie is in front of you, down on one knee, and in one of his hands is a black box. Confused you look around looking for Dawson. Of course when you hear his laugh, from the costume, tears sprung in your eyes.   

Dawson takes off the head, a wide smile on his lips as he’s looking up at you, sparkle in his eyes.

“Y/n we’ve been together for five years and not once I doubt your love and mine. I knew the first time I saw you dancing in that bar I knew you would somehow change my life, but I didn’t expect you to change it so much. The night I met you, my life turned from black and white into a spectrum of colors and I’m so glad for it. You taught me how to love myself, and how to be grateful for every win and loss because losing makes me stronger and wiser. Y/N I LOVE YOU MUCH. And as Leo vowed to Paige, ‘I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love,’.” He stops for a while to take in breath before he finally says the four words. You are already crying like a baby from that speech. Because fuck…you know how much he hates this film even though you love it, and he remembers the phrase. “Will you marry me?” his voice is now shaky, his hands opening the box revealing a silver ring with ruby in the middle of it.

You start nodding your head not trusting your voice. But when he stands up you let out a sob with a laugh. “Yes, yes, yes. I’ll marry you.” You hug him around his neck, pulling as close as it’s possible. Applause interrupts around you, making you two pull away. You laugh at the people watching you, some even filming this. You look at Dawson again, kissing him so passionately he stumbles backward laugh escaping his slips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers on your lips, hugging you tightly in himself. “Wanna try the ring on?” he whispers in your ear pulling away from you slightly.

“Yeah.” You nod your head wiping the tears away. Dawson takes the ring in his hand sliding it on your ring finger, your eyes welling up with tears over again. “I love you, Dawson, so much.” You choke on your sob.

“And I love you, baby. So fucking much!” he dips his head down, kissing you softly with a smile on his lips. “Let’s go enjoy the rest of the trip.” He pulls away looking over to a guy who was probably in the costume before him. He strips from it handing it to the guy thanking him.

The rest of the day, you couldn’t keep your eyes from the ring sitting on your finger, feeling so happy for the man who placed it on.

#nj devils #nhl #nhl fic #dawson mercer #dm91 #dawson mercer x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #dawson mercer imagine #disneyland #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-Friday Coda

Tagged by the always lovely @theotherbuckley @perfectlysunny02 @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz and @diazsdimples Thank you all so much for all the tags throughout the week and today! I have eased back on working NFL Buck because I am absolutely swamped with school. I have started clinic rounds and somehow the classwork has doubled for the next set of courses. Which holy crap. So a lot of my days are for studying, homework, and quizzes. Add on being a mom/house wife and yea, not a ton of time to work on my favorite WIP. But I am making time on Thursday to watch the newest 9-1-1 episodes and write codas, because I started them in the final episodes of season 6 and really enjoyed it! So I made a goal to make a coda for most if not all of season 7 episodes! 2/2! I will try my absolute damnest to get some work into NFL Buck because it is my baby and I know how much it is beloved. Until then, enjoy the season 7 codas. Posted to ao3.

7x02 Coda

“We-I…” Buck tries to find the right words again, but he has no idea what they should be.  He doesn’t know if he should be defending himself along with Eddie and Chimney, proclaim that they were just being honest with internal affairs. Or if he should defend Hen and the betrayal she felt when they couldn’t back her up.

Rock and a hard place, with Buck being squeezed tightly in between.

Chimney left the locker-room soon after Hen, with the passing false hope comment, “She’ll come around.”  His phone was half-way to his ear before disappearing around the ladder truck, most likely spilling the entire ordeal to Maddie.

Buck slumps back down on the bench and leans his head against the lockers, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. Still standing close by, Buck hears Eddie hum in agreement. Yea, tonight was very much a downer.

“We should have had her back.” Buck finally says.

He feels additional weight added to bench and pressing warmth along his arm and thigh when Eddie sits beside him. “We did. We just all put our foots in our mouths trying to show her.” He assured.  He gives Buck knee a gentle squeeze, “You more than me with that whole ‘right call’ comment and wanting to give Captain Collier’s a hard time.”

Buck groans in embarrassment, “I was trying and horribly failing to lighten the mood.”

“The mood was dead on arrival; you had no chance.” Eddie chuckles.

They both go silent, stewing in the hurt emotions left behind by Hen and Chimney, mixing with their own anxiety and worry. It kind of reminds Buck of the last time Hen was captain and that man died at the happiness convention. God that felt like so long ago, when really is less than a year.  Yet here they all are, questioning themselves on the job after losing a patient and without Bobby’s steady leadership to help guide them through it.

Buck could only hope this didn’t send him or anyone else on the team into a spiral of questioning their purpose in life. And he really hoped it didn’t lead to another brush with death, for anyone of them.

The hand on Buck’s knee never left and gave another squeeze, pulling him from his past wallows and has his eyes fluttering open. He looks over at Eddie and sees an understanding smile gracing his lips. “That man’s death isn’t on us. We we’re working on the worst of the crash, and we saved that girl and her mother.  Hen made the right call, the same one Bobby would have made and when those lab results concur with her story, she’ll be back, and we’ll find a way to make it up to her.”

Buck takes a moment to let Eddie’s words sink it and pull him from the beginnings of a self-deprecating spiral. He did his job, he gave his facts of the event truthfully, and Hen would come around. In all regards, Buck just needed to learn how not to put his foot in his mouth, because at the moment it really was a nasty taste.

Slowly most of the tension that had built up during Hen’s confrontation eases away and Eddie felt it through the press of his shoulder into Buck’s, “That has to be a record.” He comments before getting to his feet and reaching a hand out.

Buck doesn’t even hesitate and tries his damnest not to flush too red as Eddie hauls him to his feet with little to no effort. The man has a girlfriend and Buck was done chasing. “Uh yea. Turns out when you stop trying to search for the life’s great moments and instead live in them, internal spiraling is easier to pull out of.” He explains. Eddie also is a big contributor, but Buck isn’t going to admit that to said man.

“Well… At least those self-help books will make good kindling for the next campfire.” Eddie cackles and Buck swats at his shoulder which only makes him laugh harder.

Eventually Buck joins in and the pit of dread dwindles further. He embraces this moment and knows eventually everything is going to be okay.

Short but somewhat sweet I hope! Tagging (no pressure): @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather

#fuck it friday #tag game #coda fic #7x02 #my fic #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hen wilson #chimney han #happier buck #pining buck

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

Here is: capitolo uno

Capitolo due

Capitolo tre

Capitolo quattro

Capitolo cinque

Capitolo sei

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occurr in time

The rain poured and poured upon the workshop's roof. It seemd to have been doing so for the past week but, judging from the humming evidently resounding from the room deep within the building, the only resident there did not seem to care too much.

The floors creaked in the room, still old and dusty - especially compared to the rest of the rooms in the house - but she was sure this was a simple and temporary oversight of her uncle. The rain may pour with a few thunder growling outside but she had long not been a little and frightened child anymore. Even so, the humming was her way of keeping herself company.

Even at the attempt of putting the old, amateur tools neatly away, they still fell to the ground and she had to keep getting them back up. That was admittedly vexing. Still, the song in her head and the flickering of the lamp above were enough.

Finally, the arm would move a bit more freely. She had long learned that her hands would get dirtied but to have this amount of oil taint her skin for such a meek but precious doll was still surprising. She wouldn't tell Uncle that though. Yet, with a deep breath, she took the small paintbrush back into her palm.

"...I know you..." The humming turned into soft singing as she cocked her head for a better angle. "...I walked with you, once upon a dream..." Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, she tilted the doll further to the light. A noise of confusion errupted before she got an idea.

"I know you, that glint in your," She halted for a second to catch her thoughts as the blonde locks didn't exactly seem to stick on her head. She quickly opened the drawer next to her, yelped at the loud creak, before fishing out a needle. The singing went from a piano to a forte. "Eyes is so familiar, a gleam..."

Finally, the wig would stay tight. She hoped.

For safety's sake, she pulled on one lock and found herself glad that it stayed put. "And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem...but if I know you..." Soon, her hands went to the hems of the dress and checked the fabric. It wasn't as blue as it used to be and she wondered if she should make an exact copy but just in pink. That is sure to impress.

"...I know what you'll do..."

Eyebrows scrunched up in thought. Would he even recognize it's the same doll then? Surely, an skilled puppet maker like Uncle certainly would...but his memory at this old age? She didn't know.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she let it be. That gives it character - and even if it does not, the memory of her percious ol' doll still delights her to this day, even as an adult. With a swing, she got up from the plush stool and danced with the toy as she did as a kid. It is the quality that will certainly impress.

"...You'll love me at once, the way you did once...upon a dream~!"

Soon, the thunder growled loueder and it was easy to reckon another resident entered the workshop at this late hour. Heavy footsteps followed with quiet grunts of how the entire entrance was now wet. The doll was quickly tucked and hidden inside the drawer and lighter, faster footsteps sped down the stairs. The man tunred to the source of ecxitement as he took off his drenched hat.

"Welcome back, Uncle Geppetto."

He greeted you in return. "Thank you. You're up and about this late." The gentleman hung his hat on the rack before removing each layer of wet clothes off with with frustration. The rain - no, storm - has been dragging him down the past week.

Cleaning his monocle dry, he put it back on to get a good look at you. Hands patted down the stained and old striped pants of his that he borrowed you from younger times. It was when you so abruptly arrived and was meant to serve as a sort of substitute - but you both agreed it was time to treat the old thing as a worker's outfit, held up by the old straps for as long as they still could and not grieving once the entire set is done and dusted. Only a few more uses left, before it will be thrown out entirely. Or cut up and used as a rag. Or as some substitute clothing for a puppet your size.

Finding a suitable shirt wasn't hard. All that was needed was one of yours that was allowed to get dirty, stained and ripped. Your mother was first hesitant to send you any of your good clothes if it meant being anywhere near the workshop. Yet she was still eager to use the opportunity to finally get rid of your old clohtes she wasn't too keen on. The shoes belonged to your father, a pair she found lying around and didn't have the heart to throw those ones away.

Yet, it was your hands neatly hidden behind your back and your honest smile that caught Geppetto's brown eyes.

"I take it you have been a good girl while I was gone?" Just as you were about to answer with an high 'Of course, Uncle.', the man quickly continued. "Good girls go to bed at this hour."

You sigh. "Oh, Uncle," Your shoulders fell, "I understand but I am no child anymore." "Child or not, nothing good comes from being up at this unholy hour. You don't have to wait for me to come home, dear. You know I have the key and go and return whenever the puppets call me." He laughed but was clearly shivering from the cold. Even his gray, thick beard and mustache were dripping with cold raindrops.

"Now, come on. Get tidy and sleep. Nothing can be done this late, let's continue tomorrow." Geppetto sniffed, scratching his nose and walked towards the living room. Through the small hallway, he passed a few naked puppet forms, put aside for a project he had initially forgotten. The sight of them makes him sigh.

Yet so were your quick footsteps, following him. "You say that but we haven't done anything the past week. I am already done with fixing up the butlers." You meant to point at the two butler puppets, their coats and paint fresh and done but Geppetto had long passed them and so did you. "They..still malfunction, slightly, but I have done what you asked me to, Uncle."

For a moment he looked back before sighing again and stopping. You manage to stop before bumping into him. "...I will take a look at those tomorrow. I cannot think now, I cannot give you an answer right now, dear. Just wait and do as I say. We can discuss more with fresh minds and fresher bodies."

Without hesitation you closed your mouth shut and nodded. You could tell he was not in the mood to discuss your apprenticeship and your impatience. He took your obedience with a smile and a nod. "Good night, then, (Name). And don't have me catch you out of your bed at this time again. You'll see that this behaviour will only bring you consequences."

With a single pat on you shoulder which left it wet, Geppetto left to his bedroom without another word. You hid your disappointment as you went to your own before reminding yourself to tidy up, just as he asked you to. He may be treating you like a child but you supposed that does not make his words any less wise. You did not wish to upset him even more now, anyway.

As you followed your uncle's request, your humming resumed though quieter. You found your routine to be over quite quickly due to the exhaustion you evidently but still, frustratingly, felt. Good thing Uncle was not there to witness it.

Still, with a resolute peek, you looked over the doll you hid which mended your disappointment even a little bit - before heading off to bed.

Even as your humming grew quieter, the tones still resounded in the dark room below. The third resident did hear, unlike your uncle.

ok, I NEEDED to write this, this has been on my mind an entire week. i have...so much brainrot and ideas.

female reader, niece of geppetto and apprentice when krat was stil o-kay

but things kinda go???? bad??? haywire???

geppetto going insane and weird haha

reader going from naive to AAAAAAA

kinda??? weird relationship with geppetto???

angst

angst from the past

i kinda wanna have the reader and pinocchio to also have a dubious relationship??? Like, its not gonna be fluffy wholesome

yandere~ mute~ creepy~ puppet~ literally not saying a word, no pov from his side just - actions. yandere actions.

not sure how to intertwine this with the story. im not too caught up with it (unlike pino's eyes) but i really dont know if i should even include gemini or sophia. kinda like??? au?

youre stuck with the puppet

also not sure if there is like- sexism and shit in there. its like the victorian era but an FANTASY victorian era

ppl gonna be mean t you

Lies of P Pinocchio: *exists*

me:

#lies of p #yandere lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p x reader #yandere pinocchio x reader #pinoccio #fem!reader #ticking springs

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 34

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: It must be wet wednesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson sits with one long leg crossed over the other, his back against the headboard. He holds a book in his hands, eyes narrowed at the tight font as you emerge from the bathroom. You feel a lot nicer after a shower. Calmer too when you see him.

He doesn’t look up as you come around the bed and climb up on the other side. With a long day in the car ahead of you, you’re eager to tuck in. As your bottom touches the mattress, you're reminded of the raw bruises and tender gashes. You hold back a whimper and settle in, fixing the lacy strap of the nightgown.

“You’re tired?” Mr. Laufeyson asks, though it sounds more like an accusation.

“A little,” you answer, “we’re leaving early, aren’t we?” You ask, then sit up as a rush of panic swells over you, “did I forget something? Do you need anything, Mr. Laufeyson?”

He laughs and your heart flips. You stare at him horrified. He reaches over to caress your cheek, “no, you haven’t anything to worry about, pet.”

You exhale and lay back. Your pulse slowly peters out. He trails his hand along your cheek and pets your hair. You look at the ceiling and try to relax.

“I will read to you, it will help,” he offers, “you will need your sleep.”

“Oh, thank you,” you murmur.

“Mm,” he hums before he looks back to the pages. He rescinds his hand and licks his fingertip, flipping back in the book, “let’s return to where we left off…” he clears his throat before he begins. You close your eyes and let his narration ripple over you. How is it that his voice can inspire both peace and horror?

You fall into the rhythm of his cadence. It doesn’t take long for him to lull you into sleep. You succumb to it easily, shielding yourself in your unconscious. Your dreams are fractured and nonsensical between patches of all-consuming blackness.

The morning greets you with the soft speckle of rain on the window pane. Your eyes roll open and you stare at the space between the curtains. You see a rivulet flowing down the glass against the gray cast of the early hours.

You yawn quietly into your arm and turn onto your back. You’re careful not to disturb Mr. Laufeyson as his breath ebbs and flows. You glance over at him. He’s still a mystery to you. Still that unreadable man in his stiflingly silent house.

There’s a soft ticking in the air, as if counting down to something. You peek over Mr. Laufeyson’s profile and see his watch placed on the nightstand. Carefully, you get up and circle the bed to check the time on the face. You don’t dare touch the piece.

As you stand straight, you nearly yipe at the sudden clamp around your wrist. Mr. Laufeyson grabs your arm and tugs you towards the bed. You stumble against the mattress as he yanks you again. You fall over him and he snakes his arms around you.

You lay atop him, squirming as you brace his chest. He chuckles rockily as his green eyes glimmer from beneath his long dark lashes. His hand walks down your back and gathers up the silky skirt of your nightgown. He spreads his large hand across your fiery, bruised ass.

You squeak and wiggle again.

“Good morning, pet,” he purrs and shifts his hips beneath you, “what are you doing tiptoeing around?”

“Um,” you gulp, trying to ignore the rigidness against your pelvis. You think you know what that is. The thought scalds your face. “Checking the time–”

“Ah,” he sighs and gropes your rear until you whimper, “you needn’t lie…”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I…” you search his face. He’s in a pleasant mood, you wouldn’t want to spoil it. “Sorry.”

“You may kiss me,” he declares abruptly.

You bat your lashes and hesitate. You press your lips together as you bolster yourself. You should just do as he wishes and it’s no great task, is it?”

Impatient, his hand crawls up your back and grips the back of your head. He pulls your head down and crushes his lips against yours. You squeak and let him take over, curling your fingertips against the top of his chest.

The world spins as he flips you onto your back, rolling with you as he keeps his mouth over yours. He lifts himself over you, urging between your legs as he traps you against the mattress. He rocks slightly as he devours you, his hand slipping down to your neck, stretching across it firmly.

He grinds into you as he loses himself in his hunger. Your hands trail along his shoulders and you hold on to him, trying to slow him. Your heart is in your throat, knocking behind your ears. Your skin tingles as fire flows through your veins. You’re terrified but excited.

You let your touch wander down his arms, feeling the firm muscle. He’s suffocating but intoxicating. You close your eyes and think of the shower, trying to put yourself in that scene. A blaze sears over your face as you drag your hand down and twiddle your fingers.

You slip your hand between your bodies and feel around, finding his hard bulge and squeezing. He grunts and parts suddenly, pushing himself on one elbow as he keeps his hand on your neck. He dips his head to look down at your grip on him.

“Pet, what…” He murmurs.

You quickly retract your hand in horror, “i’m sorry, I thought–”

“No, no,” he purrs and rubs his thumb behind your jaw, “it’s… it’s nice.” He lowers his hips back down and rolls them. “Do you like touching me?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. You're quivering with embarrassment and eagerness. He draws his hand from your throat and caresses along your chin. He lowers his mouth to yours once more, kissing you hungrily.

He pushes his arousal against you, rocking between your legs as hot friction builds between you. He groans into you as he drags his hand from your face and grabs your arm, pinning it by your head. He does the same to the other, lifting himself over you as you puff weakly beneath him.

He keeps his hips rolling as he watches you. You squeak between shallow breaths and turn your face away. He growls and tilts harder against your cunt. Your nightie is above your thighs and the fabric of his panties is pressed to your bare lips. You feel your own delight staining it.

“Look at me, pet,” he sneers.

You snap your head forward and obey. You almost melt as you meet his fiery gaze. He ruts harder and a heavy pressure fills you, pulsing to the point of agony. Not a bad sort of pain, the type that needs release. You arch your back, pushing your chest up as you whine.

“Is this what you want, pet?” He taunts, “you want me fuck you like this?”

You gasp at the obscenity on his lips. You hum between your pouting lips and nod. He snarls again.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you babble.

“No, say it,” he repeats.

“I… I want you…” your throat clenches around the words. “I want you to… fuck me… like this.”

He snickers and picks up the pace. He looks down at his pelvis rocking into yours. You whimper and shake as you feel the coil winding tighter and tighter. You push up against him, wanting more, wanting to overflow.

He seems to go forever, groaning and grunting as he simulates his desire. He looks you in the face again and smirks, “tell me again.”

“Mr. Laufeyson–”

“Tell me to fuck you.”

Your eyes round and your lip trembles. You squirm as he keeps your arms pinned, still pounding against your cunt.

“Fuck me…” you whisper.

“I can’t hear you, pet,” he teases.

You recite it again, throat tightening as you do.

“Louder,” he commands.

“Fuck me!” You nearly shout, as close to it as you could ever get.

“Yes,” he puffs, “again,” you say it, “again,” you obey, “again…” He goes on, call and answer, until you’re breathless and he’s quaking. 

He lets out a strangled snarl and spasms. His motion staggers but he pushes through. He slows, little by little, and hangs his head. He holds himself over you for just a moment longer then pushes off. He sits back on his heels and you see the sheen of your arousal on his pants.

He looks down at himself and heaves, “I should clean up…” he utters, “I might require some help.”

He backs off the bed and you shakily sit up. You flatten your legs and look down at them as they tremble. You lift yourself as Mr. Laufeyson retreats. There’s a wet spot on the sheets as well. You tamp down your humiliation as delight swells inside of you.

The video once more flashes in your mind. The droplets of water on slapping flesh. You’re wobbly as you stand and cross to the bathroom door. You peer through as you hear the shower humming and see Mr. Laufeyson step inside. 

You follow and pull off the nightie. You pull back the door and slip in behind him. You look at his lined back, admiring the muscles and his build. You falter and look down at your body… does he think yours is nice too?

You shrug away the fear. He wants you, doesn’t he? He wouldn’t do all those things if he didn’t? You wouldn’t be here as he never shies away from casting out what he dislikes.

You reach to touch his back, visions of the shower scenes feeding you courage. You trace his spine and watch a shiver ripple through him. He purrs and faces you, holding out a loofah and a bottle of soap.

“Yes, you may get my back, pet,” he shoves both towards you, dismissing your lurid thoughts. “We should set off early to avoid the rush.”

You swallow and nearly choke, “yes, Mr. Laufeyson, of course,” you push the cap of the soap until it opens, turning your focus onto the task. How dumb you are.

✨

You’ve never been on a long road trip. Never spent more than an hour in the car with your father, never left the city limits even. You’re restless within the first twenty minutes, not able to focus on the book as the motion around you makes you dizzy. You squeeze the borrowed book and huddle back into the seat, fidgeting as Mr. Laufeyson cruises down the highway.

Instrumental music wafts in a low drone from the stereo but it’s not enough to entertain you. You stare at the dashboard, the sight of the road makes you queasy. You cross your leg over the other and shift, trying to get comfortable.

“Well, pet, we have some hours ahead of us so you better still yourself,” he reprimands.

“Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I’m trying.”

“Mm, well, try harder,” he sighs.

You make yourself stop moving and clutch the book tight. You keep your eyes on the interior, admiring the smooth finish and all the little knobs along the stereo. You could play one of the games you made up for yourself. You take a word and parse it out into smaller words.

“...an idea,” Mr. Laufeyson’s words break past your trance. 

You glance over at him, hoping he doesn’t realise you didn’t hear him.

“An idea?” You repeat back to him.

“Yes, to keep you from all that squirming,” he reaches over to squeeze your knee. Your leg was jittering and you didn’t even realise. 

“What is it?” You ask.

He grins and snickers as he pulls his hand back. As he does, he pushes up the armrest of your seat, then that on his own. You watch him curiously as he keeps his other hand firmly on the wheel. He beckons you nearer with a flick of two fingers.

“Mr. Laufeyson, “I don’t…”

“We can have some more fun,” he suggests as he rests his hand on the corner of your seat, arm extended between them. “You could… use your mouth again.”

Your eyes round in shock. You peer over the dashboard and immediately regret it. It makes your stomach swirl. You gulp down and look back at Mr. Laufeyson.

“Are you sure?”

“Let me worry about the road,” he dismisses, “come on, pet, you won’t be so bored.”

You restrain a frown and rub your hands together. It isn’t a request, you know that much. His delivery might be gentle but no is not an answer.

You push the seat belt behind you and twist in the seat to reach across as he sits up straight. You pluck open the top of his pants, hands clumsily brushing the fabric as you see him twitching. You push down his zipper, his tip throbbing and unrestrained beneath. You pull him out through the vee as he wiggles in the seat to slacken his pants.

You shudder and grip him firmly. You pump him up then down. He tenses and breathes out through his nose hotly. You do it again and he shivers. His reaction sets you alight. That thrill courses through you, the one where you feel powerful.

You take a breath and think of the shower scene and how the woman did it. She was so reckless and carefree. The way she did it, she seemed to enjoy it. You just have to pretend that you're her… maybe you’ll end up liking it.

You bend further over the space between the seats and bow your head. You pout just above his tip before pressing your lips to it. You flick your tongue against him and he growls. You slide your hand down and follow it with your mouth. You start slow, mimicking the woman as you pull back off of him and swipe along his length with your tongue.

Mr. Laufeyson rumbles and rests his hand between your shoulder blades, a wisp escaping him, “pet…”

You keep going, hiding behind your eyelids as you drift into the fantasy. This isn’t what it is. This is more than a task. In your head, you can make this man want you and you can make yourself want him.

You push your thighs together and moan around him. You do want him. You feel how badly you do. Your core thrums with desperation. 

It doesn’t matter what he wants, you will do it. You want to be good for him and for him to tell you how good you are. You want him more than anything. You want this, you do. Don’t you? You must. You have to want this if you’re going to convince him to keep you.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #dirty work #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #maid au #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

[dazai-ritualist]

Ok so another part to your yandere alastor series?! Im like obsessed with them, i love the way you write Alastor!!

So an idea i guess? I love the idea Alastor slowly corrupting his kids and reader trying her best to correct them? Obviously she can’t. Idk, i can see Al wanting his son carry on his legacy while his daughter is becomes a sweet but strong woman who can probably destroy your life in a matter of minutes. I just want his kids to get corrupted to become like him!! 😭

IN A MOURNING WARNING, NO ONE HEARD

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!]

— day by day, alastor ruined your children with his malicious thoughts, while you set them straight. it’s as if evil and good decided to fight their battle in your house.

every day in this house was a headache. sleeping beside the monster called husband every night, him cuddled up to your side as if he hadn’t broken your hopes for years. acting in front of your children as if everything was fine— that they had parents who were madly in love with each other. and, raising your children. of course, raising them in itself is difficult, but alastor seems to just enjoy making your life a hell on earth.

implanting evil thoughts into your babies’ minds, and there was no one else but you to fix his mess. to instill morals in their minds, and to make sure they grow up to be diligent and kind.

sitting down at the dinner table seemed to grow harder and harder each day. resisting the urge to vomit as your son told you and alastor of how he found a rat at school, and how he had cut its’ tail off to see if it’d regrow like a lizard. the image of your little boy being so cruel made you sick to your stomach. and, alastor, he’d done nothing but laugh. “oh, my! quite the experiment, my boy!” he chuckled as he took another bite of his food. “now, dear… that isn’t very nice, don’t you think?” you frowned. “mmh, but dad said that i should feed my curiosity!” noah pouted.

“well, dad is true on that. but, you shouldn’t feed your curiosity if it hurts other people or animals.” you said, lecturing him. “au contraire, my love.” alastor interrupted. “id say that curiosity is one of the most important human emotions! how else do you think mankind discovered to hunt and cook chicken, pork, beef…” he rambled. “they are good for the body, aren’t they? they give the body protein so that they’re strong and so they can protect the people they love! don’t you want our little boy to protect his friends and family?” he raised an eyebrow. “yeah, momma! so that i can protect you and emilia!” noah said.

you felt your heart crack at his words. it seemed as if there was no hope in undoing what alastor had done. as if the little boy you worked hard to raise died. but, maybe there was still hope for your daughter.

“oh, and dad!” noah said excitedly as he looked to alastor. “my friends think its so cool that we go hunting, and they wanna join too! can we bring them, please?” noah begged, bringing alastor’s amusement. “aw, they want to join us? hm, i suppose we could, but only if they’re as well-behaved as you!” he hummed, to noah’s delight. “really?! you’re the best, dad!” noah grinned, running to alastor to loosely hug him by the neck. “yes, yes… now, go finish your meal. your mother worked hard to cook that, and it won’t taste so good when it’s cold.” he said, patting his son on the head.

you zoned out, staring at your daughter in her chair, playing with her food, and scratching the bowl with her little fork. she giggled and talked to herself, before blood started flowing from her nose. “oh, dear…” you muttered under your breath, running to the kitchen to get a tissue paper. “eww! momma, emilia is drinking her own blood! yuck!” noah called out, scrunching his face in disgust. and, when you returned, emilia was, indeed, drinking her own blood— licking her top lip as the blood leaked, and smiling at the metallic taste in her mouth. “oh, emi, sweetie… don’t do that. blood is yucky.” you scolded your daughter as you wiped the blood from her nose.

“yummy!” she shouted, licking her lip for the remains. alastor grinned at her comment, “i couldn’t agree more, baby!” he laughed, swaying the water in his glass. “not right now, alastor. emi is bleeding.” you huffed out in a frustrated manner. “ah, i suppose you’re right, darling. emi, baby, are you okay?” he cooed to your daughter across the table. “i’m okay, daddy!” she grinned, going back to eating as per usual, despite the roll of tissue in her nostril.

“are you okay, my love?” alastor asked, his eyes moving to you. “i’m alright, just exhausted today.” you let out, keeping your emotions and intentions to yourself. “hmm, then why don’t you rest after dinner, dear? noah and i can wash the dishes.” he assured you. “wah?! but, dad, i wanna go play!” noah huffed and pouted. “now, son… protecting also means to help others when they are tired. don’t you wanna help momma?” he asked your son. and as noah thought it over, alastor spoke again, giving him more of an incentive. “now, i hate to do this… but, if you don’t help your mother, i won’t bring your friends to hunt.” noah’s eyes widened at the unfairness. “what?!” he frowned. “guh, fine, ill do the dishes!” he pouted, gathering the cleared dishes and bringing them to the sink. “hmph, good boy.” he grinned. “go rest now, dear.”

and, as you went up the stairs, that moment finally dawned on you. that hunting with his friends and father meant so much to him, he was willing to do household chores. it shattered your heart as tears filled your eyes— why couldn’t you go back to a simpler time? when it was just the two of you. when all you had was each other.

“momma, i missed you!” noah said hugging your legs as you returned from work. “aw, i missed you too, baby!” you smiled at your precious boy. “c’mon! i wanna play with you!” he said, attempting to pull you by your wrist. “in a second, sweetie! momma has to take off her heels!” you laughed.

that memory was 6 years ago.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 11

Time for another WIP Wednesday! I'm not sure if I'll have anything for next week. I'm working on a one shot right now as I can and wrapping up stuff for my final week of work which is taking a ton of time. Though I did get on a roll today and wrote a bit more than I'm posting, so maybe I'll have something.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

----------

“Hn. What is the range on these devices?” asked Bruce.

Danny shrugged. “My stuff? From anywhere. I track through the Infinite Realms, not by Earth. GIW? Jason-Robin, they’ll be able to detect something from probably ten miles out of city limits, but they’d need to be within half a mile to get an accurate location. The Fentons? Mile or so. They get an exact location or nothing.”

Tim asked, “Is it likely the Fenton’s will come to Gotham?”

“Not sure,” admitted Danny. “But they sell commercially, so other ghost hunters might have their equipment. Jazz, pass the Fenton Finder?”

Damian couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice when he finally saw the blocky silver device with a circular, green screen on it and bits sticking up out of the front. “Why is there a light bulb attached to it?”

Even Robin looked at the device with a raised eyebrow and sent out a silent this real? his way.

“It flashes when a ghost is nearby,” Danny replied to both of them.

Tim hummed in interest. “Are the visible antennae necessary? Why are there multiple?”

“Most of my parents designs were cobbled together with whatever they could cannibalize from other household electronics and junk yards. Hence the less stream-lined appearance compared to the Guys in White’s stuff.”

He flicked the switch to turn it on and instantly the light bulb was flashing red, the radar screen turned on showing several dots in close vicinity to the center, and a robotic voice said, “You are surrounded by multiple ghosts. You’d have to be an idiot to not notice the ghosts all around you.”

Danny let it read out it’s warning again before flicking it back off. He had to laugh at the looks of complete bafflement on basically everyone’s faces. Even Bruce raised an eyebrow at it.

“Yeah, that’s my parents for you. FentonWorks designs are at least easy to spot. Not the the Guys in White’s stuff is much better. That horrible white on everything…” Danny shuddered. “I hate white.”

Bruce hummed. “Will you be able to provide us with some of these devices so we can study them on our own?”

Danny bit at his lower lip. “Probably. But it’ll have to wait until after I get you the information on how to safely work with ectoplasm. If Tim and Barbara are your big tech people, they’re not liminal at all and will have to be careful when handling it.”

Tim added, “We do have extensive experience working with toxic chemicals. Many of the Gotham rogues use chemical warfare.”

“Right. Yeah, I’ll have Tucker send you the safety sheets on it and we’ll see what devices I’ve got or can make duplicates of to get to you. I’ll be sure you get all three styles of hand-held trackers and their schematics. Maybe I’ll even be able to get you the schematics for a larger tracking system like what my parents have set up in Amity.”

Barbara nodded. “That would be great. What sort of set up do your parents have in your home town?”

“So they’ve set up sensors all over the city that detect ectoplasmic activity. The signal gets sent back to the computer in the ops center they built on top of their house, and they can pin the exact location of any ghost to within a foot or two anywhere within, like, five miles of the city limits. That data is also shared with the computer in their GAV.”

Jason bumped Jazz’s shoulder with his. “I know I’m gonna regret this, but what’s the ‘GAV’?”

Jazz sighed and answered. “It stands for Ghost Assault Vehicle. It’s a modified RV that’s basically a tank. Jack and Maddie simply have to press a button and a dozen ghost weapons will protrude from the vehicle and aim for any nearby ghost. And that’s without Maddie shoving her entire upper body out the window while holding a bazooka.”

“Yep. I regret asking. How badly am I gonna want to murder your parents by the time I’m done learning about them?”

“They are not my parents.” Jazz’s voice was hard.

At the same time, Danny answered, “Depends. How do you feel about genocidal mad scientists?”

Jason just let his head bang on the table. Robin flew over to him and patted him on the back. Jason seemed to subconsciously lean into the touch.

“Now,” said Danny. “I promised I’d show the rest of you these scanners up close.”

“That would be appreciated,” said Bruce. “We also have a few more questions about you and your parents.”

“And I need you to tell me more about these Lazarus pits because those sound like they’re a disaster.”

Alfred cleared his throat. “And I believe that will have to be the end of this meeting tonight. It is getting late and at least some of you will insist on going on patrol tonight still.”

A few people grumbled at Alfred’s words, but no one argued.

Danny made his way to the other side of the table and went over how to use the devices again. He pretended not to notice the way Jazz flinched when he turned on the Fenton Finder and it called out its warning again.

Jason did put an arm around her in response, though, so he figured she’d be all right.

“So that’s that,” he said once he turned off the last device. “I won’t be showing you any weapons until after we get you up to date on ghost biology and culture. If you run into issues in the meantime, you can call Jazz or me and we’ll take care of it.”

Bruce nodded. “We’ll be following up with our own experts as well.”

“Of course,” agreed Danny. “I figured. Now, you had some more questions?”

Tim asked, “You mentioned to me and Alfred that a member of Justice League Dark stopped by Amity. Can you tell us more about that?”

“I mean, there’s not much to tell,” said Danny. “It was John Constantine. And at the time I had no idea how famous he was. Would’ve asked for an autograph if I had, but oh well. This was shortly after I defeated Pariah Dark, the previous Ghost King. He came in, asked if I needed help. I told him I got it covered, he gave me a phone number, and that was that.”

Bruce hummed. “Yes, that sounds like Constantine. We will speak to him.”

“Why?” asked Danny. “It was exactly what I wanted. A check in to confirm I was okay and someone to reach out to on Earth if I got in over my head. It’s just by that time I started getting allies in the Realms. The big concern Earth-side was ghost hunters. And the worst of them were government sanctioned so I wasn’t sure if I should reach out to the Justice League since you guys also work with the US government.”

Jason let out a noise that Danny could only think of as a growl. “He should have spent enough time there to answer questions like that.”

Danny snorted. “Less than a week before he arrived, our entire town was removed from Earth and brought into the Infinite Realms for multiple days. Something would’ve been very wrong with him if he’d stuck around longer than it took to confirm it wasn’t likely to happen again.”

“I’m sorry,” asked Steph, “what is that about your entire town being transported off earth?”

“Don’t you know? My friends and I figured that’s why you sent Constantine to us.”

Barbara shook her head as she clicked around her computer. “There’s nothing in the Justice League files about it.”

“Huh. Well that’s how I became the Ghost King. The previous king was released by an idiot and lured to Amity. Ended up bringing the entire town into the Realms. His goal was to take over the town then the rest of earth. I defeated him in single combat while some other ghosts helped hold back his armies. No one bothered to tell me until later that that meant won his titles as well.”

Dick was frowning at him. “Why did you have to be the one to defeat him?”

Danny just blinked at him in confusion. “Who else was there? My accident is what activated the portal and started letting ghosts through. By making me half ghost, I had the powers necessary to contain the ones who caused problems. My parents were incompetent at best. So I just did what had to be done. Besides, if I hadn’t been an idiot, the portal never would’ve turned on in the first place. So it was my responsibility to fix it.”

----------

Next

And no one at the table liked that answer! The end of the dinner is finally in sight! I know I'm overlooking characters. I'll do some editing to make sure everyone gets a say before I eventually get around to posting this to AO3. (It's a good part of the reason I haven't started cross posting, tbh. That and I like to have stories fully finished before I start posting.)

Hope you all enjoy.

Tag List Part 1:

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #all the bats #anger management #my writing #were finally moving past the distrust! #at least a bit #constantine felt a chill go down his spine #he's gonna be spending longer than he'd like avoiding bats after this night #danny has no idea what he just unleashed on the wizard

[moralina]

When his lips feel better touching yours

JJ Maybank x reader

A/n: felt like writing something, jj was the perfect option. Kinda inspired by what i used to do as a kid. I loved ants, now I'm slightly scared of them :,)

Warnings: i wrote this very fast and didn't proofread. Bad english probably. Can be read as gender neutral!

"What're you doin'?" JJ asked before crouching beside you, his right hand touching the grass.

"Careful!" You exclaimed quietly while you shoved his hand away. Eyes not meeting his but rather watching the ground before you, intently.

He kept his eyes on you, occasionally looking at the little ants making their organized line back to the large tree in front of John B's house. Your hands fiddled with some leafs, ripping them every so often and placing them near some random ant.

JJ smiled when he heard your hum of appreciation when one of them took the leaf. After a moment of silence you decided to speak again

"I'm helping them." You stated, voice sweet and low, as if you spoke any louder you could scare the ants.

"What?" You moved to look at him, careful not to step on any of the little insects. His expression carried confusion but his eyes still transmitted the same feelings they had just seconds ago.

Appreciation.

He couldn't help himself but appreciate every aspect of you. Your pretty eyes, pretty hair, your cute lips that he really, really wanted to kiss right now, and also the calming sensation you carried with you everywhere.

"The ants," you interrupted his thoughts once again "i was helping them with the leafs."

You said it so casually and sweetly he couldn't hold himself back, and with and swift motion his lips were touching yours. JJ could taste the strawberry lipstick you put on this morning, his favorite. You reciprocated the action immediately, being so used to his spontaneous acts of affection.

"What was this?" You asked after the kiss ended, his hands holding your hips, trying to keep you both balanced.

"Nothing." He smiled and pecked your now swore lips, this time quickly but with the same love and adoration as the last "you're just so goddamn cute."

A/n: kinda frustrating that i have so many wips and cant finish any of them. I started one eddie blurb for christmas like 2 months ago and it's not finished yet 😭 and then something with steve that i just kept adding more stuff and now i dont even know if it makes dense anymore. Then i have many others that i started and left untouched since 😤

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x gn!reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank obx #outer banks fanfic #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction

[monsterrae1]

WIP 🚧 Wednesday

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @tizniz @jesuisici33 @sherlockcrossing @giddyupbuck

Thanks guys! Nicole @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming this snippet is for you bestie 😂 from demon buck:

The call to the school was quick, they were used to Eddie having to call them at the last minute because of his job, and while he didn’t like it, sometimes there was no other choice. He quickly gave them Buck’s description and then dialed the demon’s number.

“Eds?” Buck asked, clearly confused. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but my shift is going to run late, and I need you to pick Chris up from school? Spend the afternoon with him?” The other line was silent for a long time, long enough that Eddie was starting to be worried that it might’ve disconnected, “Buck?”

“You want me to watch Chris?”

“Yeah, I mean, you spend most days at the house anyway, at this point you’re practically a free babysitter.”

“Hey! I’m a very scary demon,” Buck argued, making Eddie chuckle.

“Sure you are, please? I’ll owe you one?”

Buck hummed, “Dangerous words to say to a crossroads demon, Eddie.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “You’re just going to ask for my Abuela’s recipes again,” Buck’s deep chuckle came from the other side of the line, and Eddie smiled, “I’m going to be a couple of hours at least, feed him dinner if I’m not there by then?”

“Okay, I will, I’m on my way to the school, be careful okay, Eds? We’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Buck.” Eddie hung up and went back to work, putting out the fire.

Tagging if you wanna share anything @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @buddierights @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @heartshapedvows @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddiescowboy @malewifediaz @spaceprincessem @spagheddiediaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @elvensorceress @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @spotsandsocks @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 and whoever else wants to do this

#wip wednesday #buddie #buddie wip #wip demon buck #I know I’m forgetting people but have you guys considered my brain is soup?