#got ‘you are disgusting!’ ‘do not lie to me again’ stuck in my brain

[vanteguccir]

Body hurting | Harry Styles

Harry Styles x Y/N

Summary: Where the hate that Y/N has been receiving on social media gets her on a path that she couldn't come back alone from.

Warning: Eating disorder, dysmorphia, self-hatred, comparison. PLEASE read with caution!!

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N was home alone for the second week in a row, and to say that things were easy would be a big lie. Her days were always the same: Spending hours doing different physical exercises and other hours reading the most horrible comments from Harry's fans.

She could never say they were bad people, after all they loved and cared about Harry, but there was something within the fandom against her, and she wondered if it was because she wasn't famous or because she wasn't thin.

Her heart told her that she shouldn't worry about it, there were sweet people who defended her and always presented proof of how much happier Harry seemed to be when with her, but her mind screamed that it was option two.

Hours of sleep were lost with Y/N ​​in front of the mirror, without any clothes and with her hair tied up, her dark eyes with big bags underneath wandering over every part of her body while her brain made records of absolutely all the negative parts.

To say that she wasn't in agony every time she saw an old article about Harry's exes or comments comparing them all to her was an understatement, she could only feel disgusted with herself and her body, while all her past traumas came back with full strength.

With Harry away it made it easier for her to do her fasting and her long hours of physical exercise, in addition to going days without ingesting anything more than one or two leaves of pure lettuce, and lots of water. The feeling of the cold water running through her body and reaching her empty stomach was pleasurable, and all she could think about was how thin she only felt when her stomach was empty.

And without even realizing it, her best friend became her scale, and her greatest partner became her seamstress' measuring tape. Y/N had even printed out some images of the body models she dreamed of having every day, and pasted each one of them in different corners of the house, especially in the kitchen, with strong messages full of triggers that made her think twice before opening the refrigerator or cupboard.

It wasn't surprising that she had an exaggerated reaction when she was told that Harry would have a week without shows, and that in that week he would return home and, consequently, to her. Y/N wasn't prepared to see him again, or rather, she wasn't thin enough to do so. Her weak legs ran around the house, tearing off all the photos and messages stuck to doors and walls, storing them in a far away place, where he wouldn't find.

She tried to take a long shower and brush her teeth repeatedly to get rid of the smell that she got from the lack of food. And then she felt a little ready for what was to come.

It wasn't long before the sound of the key in the main door was heard and the doorknob turned, the tall, dark figure appearing in the doorway with a suitcase in one hand and a big smile on his face, his emerald green eyes searching for her.

Y/N smiled one of her best smiles and ran to meet him, careful not to throw her full weight against him. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as his large hands encircled her waist, the worry that he would feel the fat on her back regions running through her mind. But what she didn't notice was the confused look on Harry's face as his fingers felt how much smaller she was, and he wondered if she had started some kind of diet.

"I missed you so much, H." Y/N murmured against his shoulder.

"Not as much as I did, lovie. Every day, I just thought about having you with me, encouraging me and loving me, and then rewarding me." Y/N felt her body tense at the mention of the intimacy they both shared, the thought of him seeing her body, even though he had already seen it so many times that he had memorized every detail, made her fear.

"Why don't we take this suitcase to the bedroom and then see what we do?" She interrupted the moment, walking away with a fake smile and taking the suitcase from the taller man's hands, starting to climb the stairs, leaving a confused and worried Harry behind.

××××

Two days had passed, days full of lies on Y/N's part and worry on Harry's part. Y/N skipped breakfast, using the fact that Harry woke up after her as an excuse, saying that she had already eaten breakfast; At lunch she couldn't just lie or make some excuse, so she simply took a spoonful of the food that the brunette cooked with so much love, and spread it across the plate, trying to give the impression of having a full plate; At dinner she simply said that she wasn't hungry and that she lost the habit of eating dinner after Harry went on tour.

The days went on like this, Harry felt confused about the situation, but it didn't seem like he didn't believe it, so a debate raged between whether to bring up the subject or not.

Until one day. Harry woke up with the morning sun shining through the open curtain, which Y/N ​​opened every day, his body was warm from the duvet and Y/N's scent surrounded it, like Saturn's rings.

The man got up and did his routine, going to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and changing, ready to go down to meet his loved one, who was always waiting for him with a big smile, sitting at the kitchen counter with her cell phone in hand and a cup of coffee, which was just for him.

But today was different, as Harry went down the stairs a muffled sound became clearer, until his brain registered that the sound was of crying, with a frown the man quickened his pace and chased the sound, concern settling in his eyes.

It didn't take long for him to find Y/N in the fetal position on the main sofa in the room, the cell phone in her right hand while her left hand covered her mouth, trying futilely to stifle the sobs that broke from her throat.

Harry ran closer, kneeling on the floor in front of her seat on the sofa and placing his hands on the girl's knees, stroking them lightly.

"Y/N what happened? Who made you cry like this?" His green eyes migrated from her half-covered face and her cell phone.

"H-Harry-" Her voice broke as the taller man's name came out as a whimper.

"I'm here, baby!" He got closer, wrapping his hands around the smaller girl's shoulders, placing his forehead on the top of Y/N's head, breathing in her scent.

"Harry, I don't think I can do this anymore..." Y/N whispered.

"Do what, my love?"

"Us, Harry." The man moved quickly, astonished by his girl's response.

"Did I do something? It was one of those fake news that I'm cheating on you, wasn't it? Baby, I never-"

"No Harry, no. I know you would never do that! And you didn't do anything, I just..." She sighed and looked into his eyes, feeling guilty when she saw the pain in his emerald orbs. "Look at me, Harry, look at this." She pointed to his body, letting a loud sob out.

"What should I be seeing? Besides a beautiful woman."

Y/N laughed in disbelief, shaking her head and feeling a hint of anger start to rise, it was clear he would say something like that just to please her.

"Harry, I'm looking horrible. I don't have visible ribs or a protruding collarbone, I don't have a thigh gap or hip bones, I don't have thin wrists and I don't have well-marked cheekbones, I don't have pointy shoulders and I don't have a defined jaw... I don't have delicate hands or thin fingers, my waist isn't extremely thin and my breasts are too big. Harry, I'm not perfect and I can't give you what you need."

At this point Y/N was crying a desperate cry, with strong sobs that made her body shake and thick tears that ran down her face. Harry had tears welling up in his eyes as his hands balled into fists in anger at whoever had put these thoughts in his beloved's head.

"Y/N, who made you think like that? How can you deduce what I want?"

"Harry..." She closed her eyes tightly, her mind betraying her by bringing up images of Camille, the girl seemed to be kind, but Y/N couldn't help but feel jealous of her perfect body. "I'm not like them, I'm not like her!"

"Who? Baby, please-"

"I'm not like Camille or like Kendall or like Taylor, and I can't give you the pretty, thin image you need, the media hates me and I've lost count of how many times they've told you that you're blind from being with me, and I can't disagree with that."

Harry shook his head in denial, feeling angry at the media and everything they post and say with the intention of always offending someone.

Y/N continued to sob, and the force her body exerted with the act left her weak, the lack of food began to appear again and her eyes saw stars while her head swam. Harry grabbed her arms quickly, steadying her.

"Baby if you keep crying like that you're going to hurt yourself. Take a deep breath for me, hm? I'll get you a glass of water."

The brunette ran to the kitchen, starting to look for the decorated glass that he knew was the girl's favorite. While opening drawers and cabinets, his green eyes found a piece of paper glued to the front of the bottom shelf, where some industrialized sweets were kept. Harry took the paper and pulled it out, seeing a photo of a body exactly as described by Y/N and a note next to it, his eyes widened at the horrible mentions written there and he tried to get up quickly and return to the room, holding the paper firmly in your hands.

"Y/N what is this?" The brown-haired girl looked up quickly, her greatest fear happening right before her eyes. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. "Tell me something, when was the last time you ate anything?" She shook her head, ready to say it was the day before, but Harry interrupted her. "I mean a whole meal with a healthy amount."

Y/N remained silent, her eyes now fixed on the floor covered by the shag carpet, the older man took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He walked over to the smallest one and put the photo in his pants pocket, promising himself to look for others like it deep in the house.

"Y/N this is a serious situation, you can't keep something like this to yourself!" He couldn't help but feel frustration, he felt guilty for feeling like that because he knew that it wasn't Y/N's fault, but with the way that all of that came down, it just made his head confused and upset.

"Harry I'm fine, that was just-"

"Baby I bet you haven't eaten in days, do you think this is healthy, that this will get you somewhere other than a hospital bed? Letting this situation compromise you like this because of other people... That's not good for you. You don't need to have the same body as them, you don't need to have bones showing or a flat stomach to be magnificent. Those pants you're wearing were tight until a few weeks ago, and look at them now, they're baggy..."

Y/N kept her gaze down, her eyes were filling with uncontrollable tears that threatened to flow at any second again, her cheeks were heating up and the force she was exerting to contain the tears was starting to generate an unbearable headache. She knew Harry was right.

"I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me everything is okay. Just look into my eyes."

The girl slowly raised her head, her eyes focusing on Harry's beautiful green ones, which now held so much anguish and worry, a tear escaping from the corner of his right eye made her lower lip tremble. She opened her mouth to state that she was fine and that everything was going to get better, but her voice seemed to trail off for a second.

Her body hurt, her legs were wobbly and her arms were shaking slightly, she felt her head feel heavy. It was a horrible feeling, beyond normal.

"I-I... Harry, I think I need help."

She whispered, her tears flowing freely now with the weight of her words. Harry nodded vigorously, relieved that she understood that this situation was not normal, and promising himself that he would be by her side through the entire process, no matter how long it took.

And that night, after his girlfriend fell asleep, Harry cried.

#x reader #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #angst #love #fanfic #fanfiction #y/n #fic #fiction #hs #tour #hs x reader #styles #harry #harry styles imagine #imagine #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb

[steddieas-shegoes]

this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation

chapter 1: before also on AO3 based on this post Rated E for future chapters

🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰

Nobody thought he could do it, but he did.

He graduated.

He was gonna get out of here.

He was gonna be someone.

The woman he celebrated with reminded him of Steve. He couldn’t lie to himself about it, knew the exact reasons he’d let her flirt with him, let her touch his arm, let her kiss him against the wall of the hallway of the bar leading to the bathrooms.

She was beautiful, of course, her hair a golden brown, eyes a soft brown. She had freckles along her cheeks and one on the tip of her nose.

Easily kissable if he were looking for more than one night.

He couldn’t give her that.

But he didn’t get the idea that she was interested in more than that anyway.

The back of the van was the perfect place to fuck her, and the fact that she didn’t really seem disgusted or annoyed by it further proved that she wasn’t interested in anything beyond tonight with him.

She was good, liked it a little rough, kissed him like she needed his lips on hers to survive.

Eddie was lost in it, not drunk enough to realize they’d forgotten to use a condom, but drunk enough to ignore it.

She was probably on birth control anyway.

It wouldn’t be anything more than tonight.

————————————————————

“Eds, I’m sorry about this, but they called me in for a shift. They’re pretty short staffed lately, so I think I should go,” Wayne said while Eddie was putting on his coveralls for work.

He was bouncing Mia on his hip, smiling down at her as he spoke to Eddie from the bathroom doorway.

“No, I get it,” Eddie replied.

He did. He totally understood.

When Mia’s mom had shown up with her on his doorstep, hospital bracelets still on them both, he’d already felt the shift of his entire life.

There was no denying Mia was his, even at only three days old.

So he held her in his arms, and he cried until Wayne got home from work, and then they figured it out.

He owed Wayne so much even before Mia, but now, as her number one caretaker, he owed Wayne everything.

So, yeah, he understood.

But it didn’t negate the fact that he was now going to have to take her to work with him on a day that the secretary wouldn’t be in to help keep an eye on her.

She was at the age where crawling could happen any day, and she was antsy if she was held for too long or stuck in her car seat or pack and play for more than 15 minutes.

But the shop was no place for a baby to learn to crawl, and that meant keeping her contained in something while he worked his Saturday shift.

“I don’t have to go in for a couple hours, so I could keep her here and drop her off on my way?” Wayne offered, knowing Eddie’s brain was trying to figure everything out.

“No, I may be in the middle of something when you get there so it’d be easier to just go ahead and have her there,” Eddie sighed. “Is her bounce seat in the truck?”

“I can check.”

Wayne passed her off to him, kissing the top of her head before he walked out to the truck.

“Hey, superstar. You wanna come to work with Daddy?” Eddie asked, laughing when she giggled and smacked his face in excitement. “Guess that’s a yes. You gonna behave or are you gonna cause trouble?”

“Ba!” Mia yelled, smacking him again.

“Ba for behave? I sure hope so,” he said quietly.

The guys at the shop were totally fine with her being there, and often turned the music down and watched their language more, but he knew it was an annoyance.

Everyone there had kids, yet he was the only one who had to bring his.

Everyone there also had wives who mostly stayed home or worked at the school so they had someone to watch their kids, but that wasn’t easy to remember when he started feeling bad.

“Better get you in something warm. It’s chilly out there,” Eddie poked at her cheek, where her dimple was on display.

She was a happy baby, hardly cried even when she was a newborn. He was incredibly lucky, would hate to know how much worse off they’d have been if she was a fussy baby.

He brought her into their shared room of the trailer, setting her down on the changing table.

He changed her quickly, buttoning her up in her warmest onesie and sweater, already trying to figure out how he would keep a blanket on her legs when she just kicked so damn much when Wayne walked into the room.

“Bounce seat is in your van. She should be pretty happy in that. Lets her get those legs moving,” Wayne said fondly. “You sure you’re good? Maybe I could try to call someone.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got it,” Eddie said with a smile.

“I know ya do, kid,” Wayne patted his shoulder before walking back out of the room.

“Alright, Miss Mia. Time to go start pulling your weight around here. You’ll have to get under those cars and do some oil changes if you wanna pay for those rice snacks you like so much,” he joked, tickling her side.

She giggled, and then started laughing uncontrollably.

It was his favorite laugh.

He couldn’t help but laugh along with her, picking her up and swinging her around before settling her against his hip.

She was his whole life, and if he could spend all of it making her laugh like that, he’d be the happiest person in the world.

————————————————————————

“Right, and I think last time we did mention you would need a cabin filter replacement on your next visit,” Eddie explained to the customer who was irate that they were recommending a cabin filter replacement in his car that somehow managed to still run despite its ignored maintenance.

“And if you remember, I told ya then that was a bunch of horse shit. Cabin filters don’t have to be replaced but every few years,” the man insisted.

“Sir, I do wish that were true, but-“

“Ed? Mia’s gettin’ a little fussy. Want me to hold her while you handle this?” Adam said from the doorway into the shop.

Eddie sighed and wiped his hand down his face, forgetting there was still a bit of oil on it from the last car he’d worked on.

“Sure, thanks man,” Eddie replied with a small smile.

“You either do it for free or I want my car back the way it was,” the man said when Adam went back into the shop area.

“I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t recommend driving it with the old cabin filter and-“

“Where’s your manager?”

Eddie threw his head back and groaned.

Should he have done it? No.

But his least favorite part of Saturdays was that he had to deal with rude customers by himself.

“He isn’t in on Saturdays. I’m the assistant manager. If I take the new cabin filter out of your car and put the old one back, your car is on its last days.”

“That’s what ya say every time I come.”

“Which is often. Because you don’t do what we tell you to do. Look, I’ve got two more cars to do, so if you wanna take the risk, I’ll go put your old filter back in. Or you can just pay us the $20 for the labor and new filter and maybe get another five or ten thousand miles out of that thing.”

That was generous.

This guy’s car was older than Eddie. He’d be lucky to get another 100 miles out of it, even with a new filter.

“Ed, sorry man. It’s just Mia isn’t calming down,” Adam stood in the doorway holding Mia, who was crying and rubbing her eyes, clearly ready for a nap but unable to because of the noise in the shop.

“Yeah, be right there,” Eddie said, and Adam, the best guy he knew besides Wayne, smiled reassuringly at him and went back into the shop with her.

“Why’s there a baby here?” the man asked, arms crossed.

“She’s my daughter. No one else could watch her.” Eddie walked behind the counter and wrote up a receipt showing he was refusing the new cabin filter. “Sign this saying we aren���t responsible for if your car catches fire, which it inevitably will soon, by not changing the cabin filter.”

The man signed it, then huffed about mechanics thinking they know everything.

Eddie barely managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

When he went back in the shop, Mia was full on screaming, something she rarely did, even when she was hungry or needed a diaper change.

“What’s wrong, metalhead in training?” he asked as he took her from Adam’s arms. “Sorry guys, she doesn’t usually do this.”

“No, we know man. It’s alright. She isn’t getting sick, is she?”

“Don’t think so. I just think she’s tired. It’s her nap time,” Eddie sighed, looking at the clock.

Three hours left.

He could do this.

They could do this.

“Do you think you can put his old cabin filter back in while I walk with her outside to calm her down?” Eddie asked Adam, noticing a car pulling into the parking lot.

Normally, Saturday mornings were busy, but around lunchtime, things slowed down. It seemed like he wouldn’t be so lucky today.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I’ll see what this person needs while I’m out there,” Eddie said, nodding towards the front where someone was walking into the shop.

Eddie made his way to the front, ignoring the man pacing the floor as he waited for his shitbox car to be done.

“Alright, Mia, let’s calm down. Daddy’s gotta help a customer, okay? You wanna help me? Wanna wave at them when they get inside?” Eddie was speaking to her calmly, doing his best to get her to calm down.

She didn’t.

And that’s, of course, how Steve Harrington walked back into his life.

He’d left over a year ago, barely said goodbye to anyone, just followed Robin to college like a lost puppy.

He hadn’t really blamed him for leaving, but it still hurt.

He thought they were friends.

Maybe not best friends, but close enough that he would have said bye.

“Steve?” Eddie felt like the walls were closing in, an unexplainable panic at the thought of having to talk to Steve professionally when all he wanted to do was yell at him hitting him.

“Eddie! Holy shit, I didn’t even think you’d still be in town,” Steve said, beaming at him like he hadn’t torn Eddie to pieces when he left.

And, well, he hadn’t exactly known he’d torn Eddie to pieces when he left, but still. Eddie felt a lot of resentment suddenly boiling over.

“Well, some of us didn’t have much of an option,” he said, nodding down to Mia.

He would never let Mia think any of his situation was her fault, but she was too young to understand what he was suggesting, and he maybe wanted to let Steve know that he was a bit hurt.

“Oh.” Then, it seemed to hit Steve what he was implying. “Oh! She’s yours?”

“Uh huh. So, you having car trouble?” Eddie didn’t need to prolong this, not with Mia still whimpering and crying in his ear.

“Oh, uh. Yeah. So I kinda haven’t had an oil change since I lived here and I think my car is trying to rebel,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s been a year since you’ve changed the oil in that thing?” Eddie almost couldn’t believe that Steve would let his car end up like that.

“Well, they’re expensive in the city and I haven’t had time to do it myself. And since I’m in town for a week, I thought I’d just get it take care of here. Is that…okay?” he seemed hesitant, like maybe he was actually realizing that Eddie was a bit pissed off.

“Yeah, that’s what we’re here for. Leave the keys and we’ll get it back soon,” Eddie nodded at the counter as he started to walk around the lobby, bouncing Mia in his arms to try to get her to fully calm down.

“What’s her name?” Steve asked from much closer than he expected.

“Mia.”

“She’s beautiful. Is her mom working too?”

“No clue what her mom’s doing. Haven’t seen her since she was born,” Eddie tried not to have an attitude, but the subject was not one he liked to discuss with anyone, let alone the man who unintentionally broke his heart.

“Oh.”

Eddie looked over to see Steve frowning, his brows furrowed, lost in thought.

“Yeah. Sorry for the crying. She wasn’t supposed to be here today and her nap schedule is fucked now,” Eddie closed his eyes. “Sorry, screwed up. She normally is the happiest baby in the world.”

Steve searched Eddie’s face, then looked at Mia with a smile.

“I could hold her if you want. I’m pretty good with babies usually.”

“You have a lot of experience with babies?” Eddie asked, disbelief clear in his tone.

“I babysit a lot between shifts in the city.”

“Shifts?”

“I’m a waiter, which isn’t the best, but it pays the bills and I get a free meal on the clock, so,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I can try at least? Might make it easier for you to work.”

Mia started crying louder again, like she had realized that she still wasn’t asleep for her nap.

“Mia, baby, c’mon. You can close your eyes and go to sleep, I got ya,” Eddie said softly, trying to get her to calm down enough to rest her head on his shoulder.

He was certain she would have some oil stains on her clothes after this, but he couldn’t really find a reason to care right now.

“Eds, let me hold her for a second. You’re getting stressed out. She can tell you’re stressed,” Steve said quietly enough so no one else in the lobby would hear.

“I got it,” Eddie insisted, while Mia seemed to get more upset.

He felt like crying, but he couldn’t.

“I’m sure you do, but it’s okay to have some help sometimes, ya know?” Steve said.

Which is ironic coming from Mr. I Don’t Need Help himself.

“Fine. Here,” Eddie finally gave in, passing Mia over to him.

She slowly stopped crying, looking at Steve with wide eyes.

“Hi princess. Aren’t you so sweet? What’s got you so upset, little one?” Steve asked her, slowly starting to do a bouncing/rocking motion with his legs that had her little head drooping onto his shoulder.

She let out a loud sigh, like the weight of the world was leaving her shoulders, and Eddie felt tears pricking his eyes.

“That’s it, Mia. You can sleep right here, okay?” Steve whispered.

Her eyes were still open, but Eddie could see the long, slow blinks that told him she’d be asleep soon.

“How?”

Steve smiled at him, but didn’t answer.

“I’m gonna go back in the shop, but come get me if she starts crying again?” Eddie was pretty desperate to finish up for the day, wanted to get home as soon as possible and make sure Mia could properly nap.

“Yeah, take your time. Can’t leave without my car anyway,” Steve winked.

Dammit.

Eddie ignored the stupid butterflies in his stomach, ignored the way his heart skipped a beat, and turned to go back into the shop.

He couldn’t let Steve have an effect on him, not now, not after the hurt he’d caused him.

———————————————————————

He told himself that his constant looking through the glass window to the lobby was just to make sure Mia was okay.

He told himself it had absolutely nothing to do with how hot Steve looked pacing around the lobby slowly as she slept on his shoulder.

He told himself that the way Mia was holding onto his shirt and drooling on him wasn’t adorable at all.

He told himself it didn’t hurt that Mia looked like she could be Steve’s just as much as she could be Eddie’s.

“Dude, the oil is spilling,” Jesse said from behind him.

Jesse was their newest hire, worked every Saturday and most afternoons while he got through his certification program at the community college.

“Shit,” Eddie turned back to Steve’s car, rushing to put a new can under it so the rest of the oil could drip into it.

“You good, man? You seem a little out of it today,” Jesse checked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just wasn’t ready for bringing Mia today is all. I’m fine,” he said with his attempt at a reassuring smile.

“I can finish this one up if you want. You can get Mia ready to go since this is the last car,” he offered.

“Nah, it’s that guy’s car anyway. He’s watching her,” Eddie said as he checked over a few other things under the hood.

Adam had turned the music off when he finished his last car, his station almost cleaned up.

The shop was as quiet as it ever gets, which is the only reason he heard the loud laugh coming from the lobby.

His favorite laugh.

He looked over to see Steve dancing around with Mia, bouncing her around, booping her nose, tickling her neck.

Steve was laughing while Mia smacked at his cheeks excitedly.

She was babbling something, but he couldn’t quite hear it through the door and window.

“Can Adam and I head out, then?” Jesse asked, wiping his hands on a towel he kept in his pocket.

“Yeah, man. Thanks for your hard work today,” Eddie said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

Adam waved from his spot and gave him a wink as he looked over at Steve holding a giggling Mia.

He’d come out to Adam accidentally on his first day. He made a joke about how he probably should have celebrated his graduation with a man so there was no risk of pregnancy, and then froze.

He could have passed it off as just a joke, but Adam looked at him, tilted his head, and said, “yeah, me too.”

They’d been good friends ever since.

Eddie shook his head at him, didn’t want him to get any ideas about Steve being more than just a temporary babysitter.

Adam shrugged, like he wouldn’t push, but that he knew there was more to it.

They both left out the side door of the shop, and Eddie followed to lock it behind them.

He heard the lobby door open and looked over to see Steve walking in with Mia.

“Hey, you closing up?” Steve asked, smiling down at Mia still.

“Uh, yeah. She okay?” Eddie asked as he opened up the bottle of oil he needed to pour into Steve’s car.

“She’s great, aren’t you Mia? Just needed a power nap. Happy as can be now,” Steve tickled her side and then smiled at Eddie.

“Mama! Mama!” Mia was saying, slapping his cheek with her hands.

Eddie paled.

“Uh. Sorry. I didn’t even know she knew that word. I’ll take her,” he rushed to say, trying to wipe his hands off on his pant legs.

“Oh, it’s fine. Babies her age are just trying to put any word together with the sounds they know. She doesn’t actually think I’m her mama.”

“Right,” Eddie sighed. “I’m almost done.”

“Mama!” Mia said again, and Eddie had to turn away to hide his face.

A part of him was hurt, thinking how unfair it was that Mia didn’t have a mom. A bigger part of him was upset that she’d decided to do this with Steve of all people.

And a tiny part of him was jealous that she hadn’t quite put together any form of Dada yet.

“Is that your daddy over there? He works real hard, huh?” Steve was saying to her, and Eddie could feel his eyes on his back as he worked. “You’re gonna be a big helper someday aren’t you?”

“Ha!” Mia exclaimed.

“Yeah, helper!” Steve said.

Eddie hated that he was so good with her.

He hated that he was picturing a future with Steve and Mia, images moving rapidly through his head of Steve and Mia cooking dinner together while Eddie cleaned up after a long day at the shop, of Eddie and Steve having date night while Wayne watched Mia, of all three of them going to the park, dropping Mia off at her first day of school.

He blinked it all away.

Those thoughts were dangerous.

He finished up, closing the hood of Steve’s car and removing the drip pan from underneath. He lowered it to the ground and turned back to see Steve watching him with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“All set. Oil change, filter change, labor is usually $40, but since you were such a huge help with Mia, I can give you 50% off,” he said.

He would probably get questioned about it, but if he ended up having to get the rest taken out of his paycheck, so be it.

Steve, no matter how he felt about him, had done him a major favor today when he didn’t have to. He owed him something and this was the best he could do.

“Oh, I didn’t mind. She’s an angel. Plus, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I won’t. It’s fine. I insist.”

Steve shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll pay full price.” He poked Mia’s cheek and smiled at her. “But I wouldn’t turn down dinner?”

Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Dinner? No offense, but I don’t think dinner is really in my budget, man.”

Steve huffed a small laugh.

“No, no. I meant, like I could treat you to dinner. Tonight or tomorrow?”

“How is treating me to dinner payment for you watching my daughter?” Eddie asked confused.

“Just is. Please?” Steve asked.

“Um. I can see if Wayne can watch her tomorrow night?”

The confusion only grew when Steve excitedly jumped up and down, waving Mia’s hand in the air in excitement.

She was giggling and saying “mama” constantly, which was no longer embarrassing, but definitely not ideal.

“That’d be amazing, Eds. I’m staying with the Hendersons if you wanna just call and let me know what time works for you,” Steve said.

Dustin hadn’t mentioned.

Steve was staying with the Hendersons and Dustin hadn’t even mentioned this to Eddie.

Dustin was the only person who knew about his pining for Steve besides Wayne, and he hadn’t even fucking mentioned.

“Oh, Dustin, uh, didn’t say you were staying with him. Or visiting at all for that matter,” Eddie said as he handed Steve his keys.

“Really? He told me you were excited to catch up,” Steve’s brows furrowed.

“Did he?”

Steve handed Mia over to Eddie, looking a bit lost all of a sudden with his hands empty.

“Yeah.” Steve reached into his back pocket for his wallet and took out $40. “Do I need to sign anything?”

Eddie took the $40 and put it in his pocket for now, and watched as Steve transformed from a happy, confident person to a shy, unsure version of himself.

“Nope, all good.” Eddie stepped closer to Steve for a moment, sucked up his pride, and waved Mia’s hand at him. “Say bye to Steve, sweetheart.”

“Ba!” Steve smiled at her. “Mama!”

“Bye, sweet girl. Maybe we can hang out before I go?” Steve turned to look at Eddie, silently begging to see Mia again.

“If you want to, sure. I mean, you could also just come over for dinner tonight if you want. I was gonna make spaghetti. Wayne’s at work. I’m sure Mia would love to have someone to play with while I cook,” Eddie knew he’d regret it, but Mia would be happy to have someone keeping her company on her play mat while he worked on the sauce.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night or anything-“

“You aren’t. I’m not the best chef in the world, but it’s edible. And I’m sure if you’re living with Robin, you’re not eating homemade meals very often,” Eddie lightly teased.

“And what makes you say that?” Steve’s hands went on his hips.

Eddie’s breath left his body.

He’d missed Steve.

He’d missed his bitchiness, his care, his smile, the way he always watched over them all, even when they didn’t deserve it.

“Just figured you two would have been on the news for accidentally burning an apartment building down by now,” Eddie shrugged, trying to appear more nonchalant, but knowing he was failing miserably.

“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook,” Steve said. “I have to be or else we would end up on the news because Robin burnt our apartment building down.”

Steve smirked at him and Eddie was a goner.

He cleared his throat and patted Mia on her back when she startled in his arms.

“So, how’s six sound? I usually have Mia in bed by 7:30 so we have a pretty strict evening schedule,” he said, hoping his voice sounded even and controlled unlike his thoughts that were far from it.

“Six is great! I just have to run by the Sinclair house to bring Erica her gift first.”

“You got Erica a gift?”

“No, Erica picked out the gift, told me not to show my face in town unless I brought it, and then gave me the exact time to bring it,” Steve admitted.

“Sounds like Erica,” Eddie laughed. “What did the queen insist on you buying her?”

“Some D&D book? I dunno, I live near a shop that has a bunch of tabletop game stuff and she said they would have it so I wrote down the title and went there and they did. I may never recover, emotionally or financially.”

Eddie laughed again, but this time, Steve smiled, a light pink dusting across his cheeks like he was proud of himself for making Eddie laugh.

“Well, those can get pretty expensive. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have it though. Anything that helps her kick all our asses is always good with her,” Eddie said.

“That’s what I figured. So six? You still at the same place?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Key is under the plant by the steps so come on in.”

“Oh. Okay,” Steve nodded, looking down at his feet. “Do you want me to bring anything?”

“Nah, just yourself and your patience for Mia’s antics.”

“She’s your daughter so I expect shenanigan after shenanigan.”

“Hey!”

Steve threw his hands up and walked over to his car.

“Just saying!”

“Do you hear this, Mia? And you call this guy mama,” Eddie said, tone serious.

He was too busy looking at Mia to see the way Steve blushed as he got into his car.

“See you at six!” Steve said before closing his door, starting his car, and backing out of the shop.

Eddie closed the shop door behind him, then gathered up Mia’s things into the diaper bag made just for the shop.

“You ready to go home, superstar?”

Mia snuggled against his shoulder, probably still sleepy from not having her full afternoon nap.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He set the $40 on the counter with a quick note saying what it was for, in too much of a rush to do a full receipt for it.

He hit the lights, and locked the front door before making his way to his van.

Mia was asleep on him, her slow breathing and occasional snore making him smile.

“Oh, we’re in big trouble now, aren’t we Mia?” he whispered before he set her in her car seat.

He knew he could just go into this knowing he couldn’t get attached.

But he knew he already was.

He always had been.

Probably always would be.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mechanic eddie munson #single dad eddie munson #wayne munson #robin buckley

[chrisevansonly]

Miscommunication

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: You rarely argue, hating confrontation you tend to avoid it at all costs, but when a miscommunication happens and you overhear something with no context, tensions bubble over and you’re stuck in your least favourite spot

Warnings: angst, body insecurities, miscommunication, yelling, swearing, slight mention of eating disorder/food insecurity, happy ending<3

A/N: I love a good angst to happy ending, and I decided to give a lil argument a go, I really need to try and get more confident in my writing because I constantly feel like its horrible hahaha, anyway being a mid size gal who has lost a lot of weight, I wanted to write something to include the girls who aren’t thin, and who do have a belly, thicker thighs, because sometimes bigger girls are left out. There is nothing wrong with your bodies, no matter what size you are from a 00-20+ you’re beautiful and you deserve to be loved and accepted for you<3

Word Count: 1,257

 Being a girl who’s a little on the bigger side, well I guess midsize would be the term everyone’s using these days, you’d often have good and bad days, that was just a part of the journey to self-love and to becoming more confident in your own skin. You were a confident woman, owning your body, wearing what you loved to wear, and you also happened to have a boyfriend who loved you unconditionally, and was your biggest hype man. Reminding you every day how much he loved you, from leaving sticky notes on the mirrors in the house with reminders or little quotes of motivation. If you had a bad day with eating, he’d be right beside you, making small snacks and eating with you, to encouraging and celebrating your little accomplishments with every meal. Chris was truly your number one fan, and always made sure he supported you in any way he possible could, so it certainly surprised you when you accidentally overheard a conversation you felt wasn’t meant to be heard 

“there’s no way she’s going to fit into that…are you kidding me?”

“I mean if only there was a way that would even work.”

“No, it’ll look horrible…”

“I don’t even want to picture her wearing that.”

You didn’t listen in much after that because despite not knowing who or what he was talking about, your brain immediately went to flight mode, and you were in your shared bedroom within seconds. You felt disgusted with yourself, to think Chris would be talking about you like that to someone else, it made your stomach churn, the urge to get rid of everything you’d had to eat that day surfacing up. You didn’t even want to look at yourself in the mirror, taking down all those stupid sticky notes he put on them, because as far as you knew, it was all a lie now anyway. You let yourself sulk for some of the afternoon before going down to the kitchen to get a glass of water, your stomach rumbling quietly but your appetite long gone. Chris was looking through the fridge no doubt searching for something to whip together for lunch 

“Hey baby, you getting hungry?”

You shook your head grabbing a glass from the cupboard in front of you 

“No thanks”

He watched you silently for a few moments as you got your water, his eyes trained on you, the feeling of him staring pausing your movements while you looked at him

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just you haven’t eaten since breakfast…are you sure you aren’t hungry?”

So now suddenly he cares if you’re hungry or not?

“Why do you care if I’m hungry or not.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You rolled your eyes not wanting to start a huge fight or argument but before you could leave the kitchen, he grabbed a hold of your elbow gently 

“Honey what the hell is going on?”

“You of all people should know Chris.” 

He furrowed his brows, and you could tell he was wracking his brain trying to figure out what the problem could be 

“Well, I clearly don’t, so If you could enlighten me as to why you’re so angry that would be great.”

“Figure it out.” 

You turned and went towards your bedroom again, Chris hot on your heels

“We aren’t fucking playing this game y/n, I’m not chasing after you trying to figure out why you’re upset, so quit running away and talk to me!”

“I heard you on goddamn phone this morning okay!”

He shook his head his hand coming up to rub his face gently 

“Okay? What’s wrong with me being on the phone…am I not allowed to do that?”

“It’s not the phone, it’s what you said! There’s no way she’s going to fit in that, I don’t even want to picture her wearing that, it’ll look horrible! It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure out that conversation was about me Chris! I get it, I’m not some stick thin vogue model, I don’t fit into everything, I fucking get that. I would have n-never guessed you of all p-people would point that out to someone over the phone.” 

His expression dropped instantly, and he moved toward you to take your hands in his but you stepped back 

“I get it okay, I’m gross to look at, embarrassing to be around, I already knew a-all of that, I thought i-it didn’t bother you, apparently I was wrong.”

When the tears started to fall down your cheeks, Chris was quick to pull you to him, holding you as if you were going to disappear before his eyes, your body shaking against him as your thoughts ran rampant 

“Oh baby…. I’m so sorry, honey this whole thing is a miscommunication, I wasn’t saying anything bad about you, I would never, but I know why you’d think that I should have worded it differently”

You sniffled against the fabric of his sweater, not moving from his embrace, your silence allowing him to continue 

“I was having something special designed for you, and the company got your size wrong, and I was frustrated because I had told them hundreds of times, I was upset because I knew it would make you uncomfortable and wouldn’t highlight how beautiful you are, but I guess my choice in words were shit. I promise you baby I love you and your body so much, there is nothing horrible about you, there is nothing embarrassing about you. I am so fucking fortunate to get to love all of you every day, flaws and all, even though you’re absolutely perfect in my eyes.”

He pulled back slightly so he could take your face in his hands, a sad smile tugging at his lips while his thumbs wiped away your tears 

“You are everything to me and more pretty girl, I promise you, there is nothing in this world that can convince me you aren’t endgame for me, I love you with everything in me, and I need you to know how beautiful you are to me.”

“I’m s-sorry...”

He shook his head pressing a gentle kiss to your lips 

“You don’t need to say sorry honey, I should have made my intentions more clear on the phone, that’s my fault”

You moved back to rest your head against his chest, and he rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, calming you down

“I love you so much, I want you to know that you are perfect just the way you are. Always.”

“I love you too, I’m sorry I jumped to the worst conclusion”

Chris tightened his hold on you hating the fact that he made you feel this way 

“You don’t need to apologize to me baby, I promise…now can I make you some lunch to make up for this?”

Your stomach growling in response made him chuckle quietly, giving him the answer, he needed

“So, lunch and then I need to make some updated sticky notes…seems like some have gone missing.”

Chris stuck to his word, making the two of you some food before sitting down and eating it with you, before grabbing his sticky note pads and writing little reminders on them to stick to the mirrors in your bedroom again. A constant note that would continue to let you know just how much he loved you and everything you offered him, because at the end of the day, you were perfect for him, just like he was for you. 

#chrisevans #chrisevansxreader #rueswrites #chris evans x midsizereader #chris evans x you #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x wife!reader

[emlovesstates]

YorkCali quotes

Florida: Why does my head hurt.

Cali: Headache?

Florida: No it's like something is happening with pictures.

Cali:Florida your Thinking.

New York: Florida is THINKING GET SOME WATER CALL FOR HELP MOVE AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE.

———————

Cali: you look just magneficent today!

Yorkie: i- thank you?

Cali: you don't have to thank me, remus, i'm just spleading facts!

NY: Cali, are you... making chemistry puns?

Cali: i have no idea what are you aregoning about!

Yorkie:

—————-

Cali: Yorkie and I don't use pet names.

NM: I see. Say, what do bees make?

Cali:Honey?

NY: Yes, dear?

Cali:

NM: Don't ever lie to my face again.

————————-

Cali texting a saucy photo of himself: Good Morning Babe! 😘😉

New York texting a pissed-off photo of himself: IT'S FREAKIN' FIVE IN THE MORNING! 🤬🤬

———-

New York : if you're gonna call me a little bitch

New York : make sure you add "my"

New York: beCAUSE YOU STUCK WITH ME

Cali: *found smiling*

——

NY: i don't like to do disgusting things

Cali: what about me?

NY, on the verge of crying: regulus darling we've talked about this-

——

Cali: you should take a break, moony

NY: and you should take a responsibility for your actions, but here we are!

——

Cali: are you okay?

New York, understanding his brain can't process all new information received into an ideal scheme as usual: Um yEs

————————-

Cali: Yorkie, where are you? ah, found you, my angel! *walks towards the cat* why are you so grumpy? i thought you liked our dinner! *sigh* do you want me to brush you again, love? i think i can do anything for this little cute fac-

New York, walking in the bedroom: Cali, what are you doing?

Cali, looking at the cat and then at New York:

Cali: you are not a cat.

New York: i definitely am not right now. why are you asking?

New York:Cali where the fuck did you find a cat-

Cali: I DON'T KNOW-

——————

NM: so you and York huh?

Cali: yea what about me and York?

NM:Oh nothing but if he hurts you, I'll kill him!

Cali:Good to know.

———

New York: Why isn't there a sad sunglasses emoji?

New York : To show that I'm unhappy but still cool.

——-

Cali: I'm making dinner tonight, you should come over

New York: Okay sure yes

Cali: I'm making spaghetti and meatballs

New York:Swaghetti and memeballs

Cali: You are uninvited

New York : That's fair

——

New York: We'll stand together even in life and death

Cali: Probably death

Monty: Death for sure

———

Cali: Are you drunk?

NY: NO

Cali: Good—

NY: I accidentally took ecstasy though.

————-

Cali: Hey do you have anxiety prime?

Cali: sorry, *Amazon

New York: Yeah I've got both

———

New York: How are you?

Cali:

New York: How about you?

Cali: What

Cali: You didn't even answer my question

——-

*NY shows up*

Cali: Where have you been?

NY: Asleep

Cali: For two days?!

NY: ...yeah

——

NY: we need a plan of attack

NM: planned attack

———-

#ben brainard #welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #wttsh #wttt #incorrect quotes #wttt new york #new york x california #wttt california #YorkCali

[kiyoomology]

something with alphonso + kisses,, i just love him so much ++ your writing is soso good <33

-🌸

kisses ☆ alphonso hargreeves

genre: fluff warnings: none besides i kinda strayed from the request, i hope you still like it :) summary: you and alphonso talk about all the kisses you’ve shared over the years. notes: flower anon you’re so sweet!! thank you so so much for the compliment, i hope you enjoy!! <3

a small laugh bubbled out of your throat as alphonso danced in the center of his bedroom, surprisingly decent at the action considering he was trying to be bad at it.

“maybe you should quit the superhero biz. become a dancer.” you teased, smiling brightly as he gave you a mock look of disgust.

“yeah, right. scoot over.” he said, and you shifted so that he could lie next to you on the bed.

your head fell onto his shoulder, mumbling the words to the song that was pouring from his record player. his hand laced with yours, and you gently ran your thumb over the back of his hand.

“do you remember our first kiss?” you asked suddenly, looking up at alphonso to see him looking at you already.

“unfortunately, i do. please don’t remind me.” he replied, standing up to change the vinyl that was playing.

“why d’ya say that? it was cute!” you protested, giggling when he turned to face you with an utterly baffled expression.

“cute? you were dangling out of my window trying to sneak out, and i kissed your chin before i kissed your lips!” he exclaimed, sending you both into a fit of laughter at his recollection.

“it was sweet! you’re just embarrassed.” you huffed, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

your brow furrowed as you noticed a handful of polaroids stuck to the ceiling, the images too hard to make out from the distance you were at.

“what are those polaroids on your ceiling of?” you asked, head lolling to the side to look at alphonso.

“you and me.” he replied, hands still flicking through his vinyl collection. you got your feet to try and see the pictures better, a soft gasp slipping from your lips as you focused on one of the pictures.

“oh my god, alphonso hargreeves, is that a picture of us kissing?” you practically shrieked, making alphonso laugh heartily.

“it’s sweet, you’re just embarrassed.” he quoted you from earlier, motioning for you to get off of his bed. you slid off of the furniture, into his arms. he had finally settled on a vinyl, angel eyes by abba filling the room.

“care to dance?” he asked in a faux deep voice, making you roll your eyes as you accepted the hand he held out to you.

he led you to the spot he had been dancing in moments before, one hand finding purchase on your waist while the other held your hand.

“if you didn’t like our first kiss, what was your favorite?” you asked softly, lips turning up into a smile when you saw his eyes sparkle affectionately.

“when i finally finished healing from the scars on my face and you kissed the skin for hours. i remember feeling so loved.” he answered honestly, voice becoming thick at the memory. “it meant a lot to me.”

out of instinct, you pressed your lips to his injured cheek, feeling him smile under your lips.

“what about you?” alphonso asked when you pulled away, and you took a moment to stare at his face.

hundreds of memories played in your brain, kisses from the years that you and alphonso and you had shared together. how could you choose one?

“maybe this one.” you said, watching as his brows furrowed. you moved both of your hands to rest on his shoulders, gently leaning into him for a kiss. his hands went to settle on your cheeks, pulling you closer to his chest.

you pulled away with a breathless laugh, the giddy expression on your face mirroring alphonso’s. your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him again, and again, and again.

angel eyes was slowly coming to a close, but you and alphonso were too enamored with each other to notice.

#alphonso hargreeves #alphonso hargreeves x reader #alphonso hargreeves fluff #alphonso hargreeves imagine #Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy imagines #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy fluff #message received: flower anon! #thank you for requesting <3

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Complementary: Two Halves

So I know you *just* wrote Complementary, but it was so good and I’m already thinking about more, like how do the other sides react/apologize to Remus? Especially Roman and Janus! - stealing babies

HELLO YOU *POINTS* YOU ARE SO COOL AND ALL YOUR WRITING MAKES ME WANNA BITE DOWN ON MY TEETH CAUSE IM SMILING SO MUCH YOU HAVE AN AMAZING WRITING STYLE AND FUCKING BRILLIANT SENSES CAUSE YOUR WORDS EVOKE EMOTION AND ITS SO SO COMFY AND IM INSPIRED BY YOU *inhale exhale* im sorry if that comes off too strong, your writing makes me Feel Good Things(TM), please keep doing your thing :D i also have a sander sides request *jazz hands* that is entirely optional, if you happen to stumble upon an opportunity to do more with roman and remus together bonding and playing with each other as reconciled adults cause they didn't get to do that often when they were kids (like shenanigans yk tattling on each other, tickle fights and rough housing all in good fun, and *whispers with faux conspiracy* brotherly affection) then that would be dope as fuck!!! BONUS points if all the other sides or even c!thomas watch and shake their heads fondly like "what sillies they are, can't take our boys anywhere" - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: body dysphoria, not taking good care of yourself, borderline self-harm I guess?? meltdowns

Pairings: none

Word Count: 2911

    Some days he can't put on all the masks and disguises and armors. Some days he just needs to be messy.

He shoves food into his mouth just so if someone asks if he ate, he doesn't have to lie, shoveling bread and cut-up vegetables into himself over the sink, pausing to breathe until he's had enough to constitute dinner.

Off with his clothes. They itch and rasp against his skin like sandpaper because how dare he feel sensations, how dare he try to exist in the world without protection from it, and so off they come in the bathroom as he turns the shower on high. He gives himself time to run a brush roughly through his hair before he jumps in.

The water hisses and crackles and he's somehow still cold.

He shoves shampoo along his scalp with all the finesse and tenderness of a push broom. How dare his body express its own needs and require maintenance when all it does is betray him? He squeezes his eyes shut in punishment as the suds run down his wretched face.

Sharp nails scratch against his scalp and the zing of the suds against the hot water tears through the boiling haze in his brain.

So he does it again.

And again.

And again.

When all the shampoo is gone he keeps going, moving down his neck, his chest, his arms, his legs, his back, anywhere and everywhere he can reach as dead skin starts to peel off of him in waves and waves of little gray pill-shaped balls.

He doesn't stop until he has to pick them free from his nails.

He shoves a brush roughly under them to scrub away the bits that got stuck there and turns off the shower. He towels off brusquely and rakes his hair back from his face.

Scrub your face like you can rub it off if you try hard enough.

Scrape the toothbrush along your mouth as though it can clean your words too.

Drag a comb through your hair and shove it back so you don't have to look at it anymore.

Hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt.

No one is here and he can be as messy as he wants.

He slaps the wall to turn out the lights and drags sleeping clothes on and flops gracelessly onto the bed. The sheets are cold and rough against tender and scratched skin and he rolls around like a guilty pig in the mud, horrific in his tangibility. Manic energy that fizzles and strains like rope keeps him moving as he gets dizzy and sore and still he keeps moving.

Don't you see, part of him screams, don't you see how hard I have to work to keep this hidden? Don't you see how much effort I put into not being so horrible and disgusting?

Don't you understand how awful it is to be trapped in this wretched body? Do you honestly think I do all of this on purpose, that I would choose to be this thing?

His mouth opens and his jaw aches to bite.

But bite marks are obvious. Bite marks can be noticed. Bite marks can be pointed at and asked about and scratches can be anonymous.

So he doesn't bite.

But oh, god does he want to.

When he's finished, when the worst of the energy is gone and he's given up completely, he can pant against his sheets and crawl under the covers to bury his face in a pillow.

There is freedom in being a mess.

And none more so in realizing that no one could ever grow to care for such a wretched thing and perhaps that is the greatest freedom of all.

I am weak, my love, and I am wanting.

A line from a song he'd heard in passing that crawled through his brain like a livewire. Weak because he was too fragile and breakable to ask for what he wants, and wanting because he was shamefully weak and unable to pass through the world by himself.

In these shameful moments during weak and wanting times, he allows himself to dream.

Dream that someone would notice his hands were hurting and reach out to take one in theirs, pulling it into their lap and helping to coax sensation back into it.

Dream that someone would come to him and just hold him without first lecturing him on how foolish and arrogant he'd been.

Dream that someone, somewhere, somehow would be capable of loving a mess.

But he is too much ashamed and too much ruin to allow such dreams to become hopes. That's not his job.

He clutches pillows instead, cuddles into something that can't shy away under the covers of fabric and darkness. He tries in vain to fight off the voices that remind him how little anyone touches him; tensing, flinching, pushing him away, or cursory shoulder pats that feel like ash on his skin.

Too loud, too brash, too messy.

He really does try not to take it so personally but sometimes…sometimes his hands have other plans and he drops whatever it was that he'd been holding.

Which only makes a bigger mess.

He closes his eyes tighter and hugs the pillow.

Tonight is already shameful enough, he can let himself dream too.

A dream that maybe would come and just think to check on him. A dream that wouldn't lead with accusations and disappointment. A dream that would ask if he ate out of concern and not worried skepticism.

Yes. Yes, he can dream about this dream.

The dream would come in and softly ask if he's okay. If no answer came, they would come closer, close enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Maybe they would reach down and feel around a bit to find his head before lifting up the blankets.

The dream might see his face, upset and weak and messy, and let out a sympathetic noise. Maybe they would ask if there was anything they could do to help and mean it, not just use it to start another lecture.

Maybe…maybe the dream would want to touch him.

Maybe the dream would lie down too, carefully situating themselves under the covers and reaching out to cup his face. The dream's hands would be warm and gentle as they moved closer so the pillow was in between them. They might smile and tease softly about how they were a much better cuddler than the pillow.

He clutches the pillow a bit tighter out of reflex.

But the dream would coax it away. But lightly, as if they were taking a blanket from a frightened pup so it could be wrapped around them properly. The dream would settle it near the headboard and smile softly to say there, that's better, and—and—

A horrible strangled half-sound leaves his throat and his teeth sink into the pillow before he can stop it.

Oh, he is awful, truly, he can't bite the dream, he can't be such a mess—even the dream would be affronted and pull away from him at that—he can't—he can't—

But maybe…maybe it would be okay? If—if he just bit their clothes or something and not—not them?

They might say it's just clothing, it's nothing so bad. The dream might say that he can bite if he needs to but it might be better to chew on something soft.

…what would it be like to have someone who…who cared like that?

To have it be okay to be a mess and not have to stop it?

This dream is going to make him cry, isn't it? All over its metaphysical self.

That's okay too, the dream would say, you can cry. There's nothing wrong with crying, crying is alright.

They would take him gently into their arms and—and just hold him and that would be okay and—and—

Shh, shh, it's alright. Don't hurt yourself trying to stop it.

He bites again. Harder.

Breathe, I need you to breathe. You're hurting yourself, that's it, just hold onto me.

His grip tightens on the pillow until it groans in protest.

I'm right here. You're alright. It's alright, I'm not leaving. You have me, see? It's alright, it's alright.

It's not alright.

It is, Re, I promise it is.

Dreams can't promise.

No, maybe not, but I can.

You're a dream.

I'm not, Re.

Yes, you are.

Open your eyes, then, look at me.

That is cruel. To give him hope like that and then rip it away and make it seem like his fault.

Open them, Re, I promise.

He shakes his head. He won't do it. He can't.

…why does his pillow smell like that?

"Re?"

…no.

"Re, come on, I'm right here."

No.

"Shh, shh, Re, come on, I got you."

But—but—

"It's not a dream, Re, it's not. Just open your eyes, Re, look at me."

And because he is weak and he is wanting, he opens them.

"Re," Roman murmurs, looking far too tender and far too real, leaning down to brush the tip of his nose against his forehead, "oh, Remus, I'm so sorry."

Roman is here. Roman is here and Roman is holding him and Remus is crying, sobbing, shaking in his brother's arms.

"I'm right here," Roman keeps murmuring, "I'm right here, okay? I'm right here and I'm not letting go of you. I've got you."

"R-Ro—Roro—"

"Yes, it's me, it's Roro, I'm right here. I'm so sorry, Remus, I'm so sorry for everything, I've been so awful to you—"

"Ro-bro."

And because Roman is still his other half, even when they haven't been whole in years, he knows exactly what to do. He rolls over so he's squishing Remus into the bed with their chests pressed together so Remus can feel him breathe, grounding him against the cold sheets and he feels warm, warm, warm.

"Right here," Roman says again, "right here, Remus, I'm right here."

"Roman," Remus can't stop chanting, "Ro, Ro, Ro, Roro, Roman, Ro-bro, Roro—"

"It's okay. It's okay, Re, it's okay."

Remus collapses into a mess of crying and clawing and biting, attacking Roman's clothes with a borderline desperation, trying to shove himself into Roman's chest, drunk and high off the realization that Roman is here.

Roman lets him. Doesn't pull away, doesn't shy back, doesn't even flinch.

Just stays.

It's the greatest gift anyone could ever have given him.

"I'm sorry," Roman murmurs again when he finally sags into the bed, exhausted, "I'm sorry I left."

"You left," Remus parrots, still swimming in the pressure of Roman holding him like he's something precious, "you left me."

"I know. It was wrong and cruel and I wish I could take it back. I wish I'd never let them separate us. I wish—I wish I'd been there for you."

"You left…but you came back."

"You're my brother, Re," Roman mumbles and his voice feels thick, "you're my brother and I love you."

The words punch a hole clean through Remus's chest and he sobs again. "You left me. You left me and—and it's so cold, Roro."

Without letting Remus go, Roman reaches down and tugs the blankets over them. It grows hot and unbearable in no time and there's nowhere Remus would rather be. He turns his head, almost in disbelief, and presses his teeth lightly to Roman's shoulder again.

"Did…did I hurt you?"

"No."

"But I…I was so messy."

Roman's quiet for a moment, then his grip tightens even as he leans up and away, just so he can peer down at him. Roman's eyes are red and swollen too, he's been crying into Remus's shoulder too? "You're messy and you're still my brother. I don't care if you're messy. I don't care, you hear me? You're Remus and your mess is great because it's yours."

"But you—you hate my mess. You said it's everything you don't want to be."

"I am not you. I don't hate your mess. I love your mess because it's yours and I could never hate you." Something pained crosses Roman's face. "I…I tried. It didn't work. I still loved you even when I hated it."

"You did?"

"I did. And then—then I realized that I didn't give a fuck about what they thought of you because you were Remus and you were—messy. I like it when you're messy because that means you're being you."

Something thick and heavy rises to the back of his throat. "You…you like my mess?"

Roman's expression softens and he sniffles too. "Yeah, Re. I like your mess. I don't—I won't lie and say I get it all the time or that I want to be messy too, but I like your mess."

His teeth sink into the fabric over Roman's shoulder before he can stop it.

"Is that—is that good? Is that okay?"

He nods as best he can without letting go and he knows he doesn't imagine the way Roman sags on top of him.

"Good," he pants, "good, I…I really miss you, Re."

A pained whimper leaves Remus's throat and he clutches Roman tighter. Roman lets him, lets him pull him as close as he wants, gently murmuring into the curve of his neck. It's okay. I'm here. You got me. I love you.

Roman is hopes and dreams and Remus is weak and wanting. And so when Roman quietly offers to spend the night, just so Remus knows next morning that this can't have been a dream, Remus tells him that he'd better get comfortable because he's not allowed to leave until breakfast.

Maybe not even after that.

Things are better now.

He still has to put on all the stuff to go and interact with the others for long periods of time, but he can stand next to Roman and play with his stimtoys when things get too much. He can go out into the Imagination and not have to worry about hiding things because Roman is there too, spurring him on and making sure he knows that he can make whatever he wants because this is their domain, no one else's. He can curl up in the safety that Roman gives him and not have to worry about being ostracized for being a mess.

It's more than he ever dared hope for.

And Roman loves him for it.

He tackles Roman for the first time when Roman shows him the kraken lake he's been working on for Remus and Roman lights up at the idea that he can show Remus affection like that. He playfights with Remus in the Imagination and they both end up covered in grass stains and dirt more times than he can count. Roman tackles him into the lake once and they spend the day tearing up old kelp so that the babies have enough free space to swim. He curls up around Roman on the beach as they laze in the sun like overgrown housecats and Roman sings him stupid songs they came up with when they were younger.

And when he needs to be messy and have someone else just be there, Roman conjures a massive nest of blankets and soft things for them to roll around in so they don't hurt themselves. He wraps Remus up in blankets until he's a little Side burrito and they watch kid's shows that make them feel like they're still Creativity. He lays his head on Roman's shoulder and chews on his necklace that Roman gave him and it's okay that he's a mess.

He's Roman's mess and Roman's his brother again.

And that's all okay.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus

[strange-ghoul]

im... unwell. read tags

blood dripped down my body from my mouth. I couldn't identify where the pain was coming from, but it was somewhere.

I've thrown up multiple times by now. My body wracked with chills as I laid naked on the bathroom floor. I felt exposed, horrible, disgusting, but there I was. Alive. Somehow.

I crawled my way back to the toilet, throwing up again. The bile got onto my hair and stained my teeth, but I couldn't bring myself to take care of it. I had to get this... bug, out of my system.

The bug being something I didn't understand. It was a feeling in my chest, sinking into my stomach. It was something that began to take over my entire body, all the way to my brain. It made me feel deplorable, it made me feel like my body wasn't mine anymore. The urge to rip aspects of my body off were becoming more and more apparent, where soon I knew impulse control would fail.

Would it be so bad to take a knife to my chest, forever securing the feeling of steel and blood to me? Would it be so bad to take off what has hurt me?

I thought back to the bridge nearby. Maybe it's easier there. Maybe if I fall, I'll be okay. Maybe the darkness would hold me and coddle me, love me until even my memories became dust.

Nobody would be there, and it was night already; does a tree really make sound when it falls, even if nobody was there to hear it?

I crawled back to the side of the bathtub, tears already falling down my face again. Everything on my body felt like it was aching and burning.

How hard was it to be cared for? How hard was it for somebody to reach out to you and hold you? Even if it was metaphorically, even if it was just a writing, why was it so hard to be loved?

I can't feel love the same as others. I don't understand romance, I don't feel it. Neither do I understand human touch.

Was it because I was scarred from it? Was the abuse I endured just enough for me to swear it off wholly?

Or was it just me. Am I aromantic? Asexual? I think so. I have no desire for either, even if I acted that I did.

But did this mean I didn't deserve love?

It sure felt like it.

I took a shaky breath in, coughing out a sob. every tear hurt my head more and more, but I couldn't stop. The cold tiles below me now didn't give me any comfort, only resentment.

I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be held in some type of way. I wanted someone to hold me by the face and tell me they loved me unconditionally, even if I was stuck in a body that wasn't mine.

I need somebody to tell me that everything isn't for nothing. That I am smart, that I am okay, that I am worth more than what teachers, parents, and peers thought of me.

The work I produce from my hands- it's all a lie. I've convinced myself every comment was just a pity party. Who'd look at my creations and genuinely think anything good of it? They all had so many flaws which were irredeemable in my eyes. These people- They were my friends, my family- they just had to be being respectful, there was no way they could feel this way towards anything I wrote. It was wrong.

I don't deserve what I get from those works. I don't deserve the support I get. I don't deserve anything. I feel horrible getting it too- wasn't I supposed to feel prideful when my worked was commented on and loved? So why did I feel a stab of pang, why did I feel like I was never good enough to deserve those words?

Could it all trail back to my self-loathing that had already manifested itself within me?

... i don't know.

I don't feel right in this body of mine. It feels broken and unsustained. I look myself in the mirror and I don't believe it's mine. I can't recognize that face- I don't know who that is. I'm told over and over again it's mine, but it's like I can't compute that.

Perhaps that's why I couldn't understand anyone caring about me beyond the thin layer. Perhaps that's why I couldn't accept compliments about literally anything I've ever done.

... but I'm unsure if this is right.

I just wished I was loved, but I fear even then I'll think it's all pity. As I think everything is. Because, in essence,

Who'd give a shit about me?

My eye lids are heavy; even through the glaring lights of the bathroom was sleep slowly over taking me. I'll wake up tomorrow and regret everything I've ever said and done in regard to my mental health. I'll convince myself all over again that I don't need help and I am simply over dramatic. Tomorrow morning, I'll convince myself I am fine, and nothing will be wrong. And then I'll continue on pushing these thoughts, doubts, and self-hatred aside for another night similar to this one.

I place bets on myself occasionally- will this be the night I'm found dead, or will I hate myself for ever thinking I was anything but a fraud and nuisance?

#vent #im shouting into the void #i described my mental state with the only way i know how which is writing a fictional scenario #cw vomit #cw sui thoughts #imposter syndrome #body dysphoria #aroace problems #a lot of self loathing #i need thearpy lmao but can't afford that shit so this is the next best thing #look i wrote and wrote and it's slightly tangible I think but I'm not rereading it right now. #NOT Ghost related

[lovinmullen]

would you guys hate me if i posted an edit for ‘the great’ on here.........

#i’ve got this idea and its just plaguing my mind!!!! living there rent free... and its such a messy tenant :((( #but have any of you guys even seen it? idk i just don’t want to annoy anyone!!! #got ‘you are disgusting!’ ‘do not lie to me again’ stuck in my brain #just on repeat #and i need to do something with that scene and i think ive found a song that imo is v sexy for them #like fits *mwah* #but obviously its not hbo war is it lmaooo and idk if you guys like period dramas i just :// #thats kinda dumb because i get bob & tp is a pd but nE way idk what im saying im just scared! #god its just... peters face after he throws the glass... the horror of it all #the anger the repugnance (god i hate that synonym but i don’t want to be repetitive) in her face as she spits ‘you are disgusting’ #in contrast to how softly she says ‘please live’ #its perfect for the idea ive got #and like ive got the scs👀

[wellsayhelloaagin]

Dirty little secret part 2 but bring Nat in 🤧🤧

Here you go anon, just what you asked for.

Part Two with some Nat thrown in.

Read Part One here.

Dirty Little Secret, Part Two

~1.4k words

(mentions of terminal illness)

You look at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your dress and adjusting the straps to make sure they were sitting right.

You could feel the butterflies settling in your stomach, the nerves almost overwhelming you. If you had eaten anything today, you would surely be bringing it up by now. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, releasing it slowly as your hands tremble.

“Oh, will you relax already?” you hear from behind you and you open your eyes to see Natasha looking at you in the mirror, a soft smile on her face.

She wraps her arms around you from behind and hooks her head over your shoulder. You relax a little in her embrace, but the nerves still rattle through you.

“You look beautiful,” she continues, kissing you on the cheek. “They’re going to be so jealous of you.”

You roll your eyes at her, pulling her arms loose and spinning around to face her.

“You don’t know these people, Nat,” you tell her, your voice serious. “They made my life hell over something out of my control.”

She smiles in understanding, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you out of the bathroom.

“Well, your life isn’t hell now,” she tries to reason with you. “You have a great job, your own house, a tonne of amazing friends and a smoking hot wife.”

You laugh at her as she throws you a wink, dropping her arm from your shoulder and walking over to lie dramatically across the bed.

“What’s this about a hot wife?” Wanda asks as she walks into the bedroom, smiling widely as her eyes meet yours.

She looks incredible in her dress, the material clinging to her in all the right places and you find yourself falling in love with her all over again.

“Nothing,” Natasha replies, faking innocence. “Just giving this one a pep talk about tonight.” She jerks her thumb at you, rolling over to get more comfortable on the bed.

“Are you still nervous, detka?” Wanda asks, looking at you with a frown.

You shrug in response, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and chewing on it anxiously.

“I’ll be right by your side the whole night, I promise. I won’t let them touch you, not this time” Wanda tells you earnestly, pulling your lip free and pressing her own lips to yours.

You sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, hoping to forget about the upcoming night for just a few seconds. You’re just starting to lose yourself in the kiss when you hear a retching sound nearby, and the two of you pull back to watch Natasha pretend to dry heave.

“Jeez, you two do know you have an audience right?” she asks, feigning disgust.

You laugh at her theatrics while Wanda just scowls at her.

“Last time I checked, this was my bedroom,” she huffs out, resting her hands on your waist. “Can’t you go annoy my brother for a while?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, rising from the bed and walking toward the door.

“That poor bastard has a whole lifetime of me annoying him to look forward to,” she calls out over her shoulder. “But I guess I can start a little early.”

She closes the door behind her and Wanda grumbles under her breath about painful sister-in-laws’ while you just chuckle. Truthfully, you knew Wanda loved Natasha and she couldn’t wait until she and Pietro got married in a month. You were happy that Wanda would have someone like Natasha around.

You were all back in your old hometown for the weekend, staying at the Maximoff household together. Tonight was the night of your ten year high school reunion, and to say you were nervous about facing your former classmates was an understatement.

You had barely hung on until graduation and the second you left for college you had never looked back. College was a whole other world, one where Wanda was happy to be by your side. You still face the occasional backlash for your relationship with her, but both your families had welcomed the news of the two of you being together.

Your relationship only became stronger out of the shadows and ten years on you couldn’t imagine your life without her. The day you had stood in front of all your friends and family and shared your vows with Wanda was the happiest you had ever been. It was a memory that would stay with you until the day you died.

Wanda is still scowling at the door that Natasha had walked through, so you turn her chin with your finger and bring your lips back together. You can feel her smile into the kiss, her hands tightening on your hips. You want to drown in this moment, her lips making you feel heady.

Your eyes are closed and you start to feel a little lightheaded, swaying sightly on your feet. Wanda stops the kiss, pulling back to study you with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her tone apprehensive.

“Yea, just got a little dizzy for a second,” you reply, trying to lean back in but she takes a step back.

Wanda grabs your hands, leading you over to sit on the edge of the bed. She crouches in front of you, cupping your cheeks softly in her hands, studying your face intently.

“You look pale,” she tells you with a frown.

You bat her hands away, crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child and looking at the floor.

“I’m fine,” you pout, “I just forgot to eat today that’s all.”

You hear her sharp intake of breath and you don’t have to look at her face to know the concern that would written across her features.

“You have to look after yourself, detka,” she whispers, her hands resting on your knees as she tries to get you to look at her. “You know what the doctor said.”

The doctor had said a lot of things.

You had gone in for a simple check up but a few tests later and you were sitting in front of the doctor, your hand gripped firmly in Wanda’s as they rattled off a diagnosis. Most of the words went straight over your head, too technical for you to wrap your mind around. One however had stuck, replaying over and over in your mind as Wanda’s grip started to turn painful.

Terminal.

“I know,” you sigh, meeting her eyes. You see the tears she’s trying to blink back and you feel guilty for making her worry about you. “I was just nervous about tonight, I promise to have something before we go.”

“We don’t have to go,” Wanda offers with a shrug of her shoulders.

“But you wanted to go spend time with your old friends,” you reply, frowning at her.

“I’d rather spend time with you,” she counters, her hands cupping your cheeks again as she brings you into a gentle kiss.

The rest of her sentence is left unspoken, but you know what she’s thinking.

She would rather spend her time with you because there was so little time left you had to offer her. There would be time to catch up with old friends after you were gone; after you had left her alone to pick up the pieces and move on to a life without you.

So you don’t argue when she tells her brother that the two of you decided to stay home that night. Pietro doesn’t try and convince the two of you to change your mind either. You see the realisation in his eyes, the way he hugs you just a little tighter before he and Natasha leave for the old school gym.

Wanda leads you back up to her room and the two of you undress each other slowly before sliding under the covers. She brings you into her arms, holding you against her chest. You pretend not to feel her tears hitting the top of your head and just try to soak in the moment. You don’t know how many more nights you’ll get to be with her like this.

The doctor’s words swirl around your brain as you listen to Wanda’s steady heartbeat under your ear.

Two more months.

#angst week #s writes stuff

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Two: The Perfect Partner Project

Warning!: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing. Please keep scrolling if that’s not for you. 💜

Summary: After you’re freed from Dreykov’s control you team up with Yelena and Natasha to take down the red room.

Chapter One : Chemical Subjugation

“I thought you had a jet?” Yelena cocks her head to the side, as you approach the decrepit helicopter.

“I asked for one.” Natasha mutters, under her breath.

“This isn’t a jet.” You add, the closer you get, the worse it becomes.

“I realize that!” The man who’d been standing with his back to you whips around to defend himself. This must be Natasha’s friend. “But you know what you didn’t give me? Time. Or money. I’m not made of jets.”

“Aww, he’s sensitive.” Yelena coos, “I see why you keep him around.”

“I’m not sensitive.” He protests.

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Listen you-“ he breaks off. “Who are you again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Yelena introduces you, climbing aboard. “She’s my partner….” She shrugs, “you name it really.”

“Partner works.” You chuckle, joining her in the cockpit.

“If you say so,” Yelena waves a dismissive hand. Getting a feel for the controls.

“Wonderful,” the man acknowledges your title.

“Thanks for the ride, Dick.” You salute him through the front window.

“It’s Rick,” he calls back.

“I know.” You give him a thumbs up. Waiting until he turns back to his conversation with Natasha. Taking the opportunity to lean down, kissing the top of Yelena’s head.

She cranes her head back to see you.

You nuzzle your nose against hers, until an exaggeration throat clearing tears you apart.

“We don’t have time for this.” Natasha, of course.

Yelena scowls at her, “yeah, yeah.”

Breaking Alexei out of a maximum security prison using only an earpiece, stowed inside of an action figure is a terrible plan. Nearly as bad as using him for information on how to locate a facility that’s impossible to find, run by a man who’s too slippery to kill.

That doesn’t stop you though. Generally speaking it’s going well. Until one of Yelena’s shots triggers an avalanche.

“Woah.” She marvels at the scene before you, her masterpiece. “Now this would be a cool way to die.”

“Yeah,” you holler back, sarcastically, over the chaos.

“You were getting no where with your tiny guns.” Yelena points out.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” you remind her.

“Fast is better. Solves problems.”

“And clearly creates new ones.” You jerk your chin toward the mountain.

“Get us out of here!” Natasha’s voice blares through the headset.

“I’m on it.” Yelena assures her. Moving into a better position for extraction. “Watch the side window.”

At her request you shuffle to the main ship. The prison guards are still putting up a fight. Inmates running in every direction.

“Alright, Natasha’s with us.” You confirm, once she’s secured her place on the black hanging rope. “Circle between the walls on your left to grab Alexei.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Yelena snarks, steering the plane away from another explosion.

“You’re doing a great job.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Fine,” you huff. “The spot is tight and the angle is bad. I don’t know how you’re gonna pull this off.”

Yelena is silent, processing the information. “Lie to me a little.” She amends.

“You got this.” The blinding wall of white threatens to swallow Alexei whole. You’re holding your breath too as the rope moves past the metal bridge he’s standing on.

“Well?” She yelps, impatiently.

“I don’t know. I can’t see.” Once the snow and ice clears, you spot two figures carefully scaling the rope. “Yelena?”

“Hmm.” She hums, expecting the worst.

“I knew you had it.”

“Yes,” Yelena sighs, before falling into easy laughter. More invested in this than she will ever admit.

————————————————————-

Unfortunately, entertaining as Alexei may be, he has next to no information about Dreykov.

Instead he drawls on and on about how the man wronged him. Stuck him on that “boring mission” in Ohio. Then tossed him in jail and threw away the key because of…hair? A party?

You weren’t entirely sure. You excuse yourself to the vacant seat beside Yelena. Giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

Full lips twitch up into a grin.

“Tell us where the red room is.” Natasha grumbles.

“I have no idea!” He shouts, and then in Russian. “Why don’t you ask Melina?”

“Mom Melina?” Yelena whips her head around.

“We thought she was dead.”

“You cannot kill a fox that swift,” Alexei sucks in a breath.

You choke on your own saliva.

“Ew.” Natasha winces.

“What?” The man shrugs. “She was the master mind. His architect.”

“Are you telling me that Melina works for the red room present day?” Natasha leans closer.

“Yes,” he nods. “Remotely, outside Saint Petersburg.”

“I don’t think we have enough fuel for Saint Petersburg.” Yelena decides, after checking the needle on the gauge.

“We’ll make it.” Alexei waves away her concern.

“Ok,” Yelena mutters.

You look over at her.

“We’re not going to make it.” She mouths, with a shake of her head.

You smirk, closing your eyes and relaxing into the seat. It’ll be nice while it lasts.

Before long you’re falling into a controlled crash, at the Saint Petersburg city limit.

“So,” Yelena jumps out onto the dirt. “Are we there yet?”

“No, you will know when we are there.” Alexei begins snorting like a pig.

——————————————————————-

You take a seat in the chair opposite Yelena inside Melina’s humble abode. Her pigs can be heard carrying on out in the yard and Alexei’s early snorting makes perfect sense now.

Your eyes dart around the three women at the table uncomfortably as noises continue erupting from the bathroom. “Everything alright in there?” You bellow, loud enough for your voice to carry down the hallway.

Another groan is the only response.

“Let’s drink,” Melina’s voice breaks the tension. She fills each of your shot glasses in turn.

“Thanks,” you raise the clear liquid and toss it back. Feeling it burn it’s way down your throat before going back for another.

After a moment a clunking from the doorway calls your attention.

“It still fits.” Alexei announces, having stuffed himself into his old costume.

Melina whistles, with a slow clasp as he approaches the seat at the head of the table. “I never washed it once. Come eat.”

He hums a tune under his breath, reliving days gone by. “Look at us, family back together again.” If you didn’t know better you’d think it was sweet, he seems…happy.

“Well,” Melina swallows, dishing mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Seeing as our family construct was just a calculated ruse that only lasted three years, I’m not sure we can use this term anymore.”

“Agreed,” Natasha perks up. “So here’s what’s going to happen-“

“Reunion then.” Alexei offers instead. “I want to say something right off the bat.” He says to the woman who’d once been his wife. “You haven’t aged a day. Just as beautiful and supple as the day they staged our marriage.”

Melina moves closer, “you got fat, but still good.”

“I just got out of prison,” he confesses, “I have a lot of energy.”

“Ooohooo.” The older woman exhales.

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that forces its way from your chest. Covering your mouth with your hand as Yelena takes another shot.

“Please don’t do that.” Beside you Natasha looks physically ill as she protests. Swallowing down her disgust she begins again. “So listen. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

“Natasha don’t slouch. You’re going to get a back hunch.” Melina flicks her fork in Natasha’s direction.

“What? I’m not slouching? I don’t slouch.”

“Eh, listen to your mother. Up! Up!” Alexei joins in.

“I told you, I don’t want any food.” Yelena pushes her plate away.

“Eat a little something Yelena, for God’s sake.” Melina says, piling food onto her plate.

Yelena groans.

“Are you kidding me? Stop it all of you. This is ridiculous.” Natasha bites out.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. That’s not fair!” Yelena argues.

“It’s true, she’s just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Natasha roars, effectively silencing the room. “You’re going to give us the location of the red room.”

Melina purses her lips, avoiding the topic. “It’s like when you told them they could stay up to catch Santa Claus.”

“That was fun!” Alexei recalls. “Look out girls, he comes down the chimney. And when the cookies are gone you know he is there.”

Melina clicks her tongue.

“What? I want them to follow their dreams, shoot for the stars girls.”

“No good.” Melina disagreed.

“Killing Dreykov isn’t a fantasy. It’s unfinished business.” Natasha looks between the two of them.

“You cannot defeat someone who commands the very will of others.” Melina says, softly. “You never got to see the culmination of what we started in America. After the perfect partner project was rejected, we took a different route.”

“The perfect partner project?” You repeat, racking your brain. You’ve heard that somewhere before.

“Why’d Dreykov scrap the project?” Natasha’s voice cracks like a whip.

“I don’t know.” Melina’s eyes dart down to her plate.

You can see that she’s lying.

“That’s when we turned our focus to chemical subjugation.” Melina continues, “the control is so profound that when the subject is instructed to stop breathing. They have no choice but to obey.”

Yelena shakes her head. Perfect lips turned into a frown. Hazel eyes glistening with tears as they meet your own.

“That’s enough.” You warn the older woman, seeing the expression. The last thing you want to do is cause her anymore pain.

“No.” The blonde insists. “Tell me more about the partner project.”

“Yelena, we don’t have to do this.” You shake your head.

“Yes, we do.” Yelena slams her fist against the table in frustration.

“The extraction was messy to start. A high profile missing children’s case in North America. But the bond was very strong. Enhanced through targeted conditioning and subliminal messages. Until something happened that Dreykov did not anticipate.”

“What happened?” Natasha wonders.

“The girls became…attached.” Melina’s mouth twitches, “so they were separated.”

“Do you know who they tested on?”

Melina’s guilty eyes land on you. “I am sorry.”

“No,” you suspected, maybe. Somewhere in the back of your mind. You spent the first six months in the red room under solitary confinement. Rapidly and rigorously conditioned in a matter of weeks instead of years. Preparing you…for her. The teenager girl you couldn’t stand, the woman you eventually came to love.

“You,” Yelena laughs, although it’s not particularly funny. “Us.”

“Yelena-“ you reach for her hand across the table.

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t tell me that it will be ok. They stole your life because of me. I never asked them to do that. I never asked for you!”

“I know.” You assure her. None of this was ever her fault.

“That’s right, because you know everything. Don’t you, Y/N?” Yelena scoffs, her hands balling into fists on either side of her dinner plate. “You know what I think. You know what I feel. Look at you. Ready to come out of your own skin because I am unhappy. Prepared to move mountains, prepared to start wars.”

“Like you’re any better.” You challenge, she knows you like the back of her hand.

“That is my point!”

“I’m sorry that this happened.” Alexei interrupts. Surely gearing up for a ‘father of the year’ speech. “But we are here now. All together! Wasn’t that worth a few years of-“

“Shut up!” Natasha growls at him. “You are an idiot.”

No response.

She moves her attention to Melina, “and you’re a coward. You’re a coward. And our family was never real. So there’s nothing to hold on to. We’re moving on.”

“Never family, huh?” Alexei throws up his hands. “In my heart I am simple man. For a couple deep undercover Russian agents I think we did pretty great as parents.”

“Yes,” Melina nods her agreement. “We had our orders and we played our roles to perfection.”

“Who cares? That wasn’t real.”

“What?” Yelena’s voice breaks.

“That wasn’t real.” Natasha repeats for emphasis. “Who cares?”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me. You are my mother!” Yelena all but sobs. “You are my real mother, the closest thing I ever had to one. The best parts of my life were fake.” She pauses, drawing in a steadying breath. “And none of you told me.”

You swipe at the tear that escapes your eye. Traitorously running it’s way down your cheek. It was never fake. Perhaps arranged, but never fake. The way you want to wrap her up in your arms, protect her from her own sadness. The way your heart breaks in time with hers. That is real. It has to be.

She turns back to the woman who she considered a mother. “Those agents that you chemically subjugated around the globe…that was me too.”

Finally she addresses Natasha, “and you. You got out. It is impossible to escape. Are you going to say anything?” A pause. “No.”

She pushes her chair from the table, taking the bottle with her as she stands. Turning her back in the four of you.

“Yelena.” Natasha calls after her. Guilt eating away from the inside out.

“No.” Yelena dismisses her a second time. Moving into the next room and closing the glass doors behind her.

You look down at the plate of food in front of you, now lacking any appeal.

“I had no idea.” Melina whispers, wringing her hands.

“I’ll go to talk to her.” Alexei offers, rising to his feet.

“About what?” You hum, “how you handed her over to a life of pain and suffering at the age of six? How you experimented on her? How you didn’t come back for her? Yeah. I’m sure that’s just what she needs right now.”

With that you excuse yourself, back out to the front yard. Slowly circling the perimeter of Melina’s cottage. Not looking for anything in particular. Just killing time until someone produces information about how to get to Dreykov.

The blinding light that appears moments later catches you off guard. A team of men exit one of the three circling planes. Since you couldn’t find the red room, this is the next best thing.

—————————————————————

Waking up is disorienting, coming to from a tranquilizer always is. It’s bright, almost blindingly so. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. You attempt to use your hands to cover them, only you can’t move your hands.

Leaning up as much as your restraints will allow you discover that you’re strapped to an operating table. And you’re not alone.

“Yelena?”

“Miss American Pie,” she drawls from a similar position. Neither of which gives you much chance to escape whatever fate awaits.

“You’re not allowed to die mad at me,” you grumble.

“I’m not mad at you.” She blinks slowly, as the surgeon marks a clean line at the perimeter of her hairline. “I’m just mad.”

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh, turning back to the light above the gurney. “Me too.”

“You are my perfect partner.” She murmurs, while gloved hands busy themselves with preparations. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

There’s a beat of silence between you. Acceptance…peace. “I love you, you know.”

At this Yelena smiles. A genuine, happy, smile. “I know.”

Something to remember her by.

The syringe at your neck releases a sedative into your blood and you fall asleep. One last time.

—————————————————————

Dying is peaceful, gently rocking in the ocean. Then swaying more violently, giving you the urge to be seasick. Your body should move with the force of it. But something holds you steady, something warm.

“Yelena?” You croak.

“Not quite, but there is resemblance, huh?” A different voice greets you.

“Alexei?” You realize, pushing yourself into a sitting position.

“That’s a girl, up you go.” He says, clapping a hand against your back.

“What happened?” You ask, “where’s Yelena?”

“Still inside,” Melina confirms. “Brought you here so you’d be safe.”

“Natasha?”

“They’re coming.”

You sigh, ready to jump out the open door of the hovering chopper.

“What are you doing?” Alexei demands.

“Going to find them.”

“Wait! Y/N, wait.” He pleads. “There’s something I must tell you. I tried to tell Yelena but I don’t have earpiece.”

“What?” Your brows furrow.

“Never mind that.” He shakes his head. “The point, is you were right. What you said about Yelena. We complete our mission, we move on. But losing her, losing my girls is my biggest regret.”

“I’ll tell her, don’t worry.” You give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Please let me finish.” He stops you again. “She carried your unconscious body through burning building, through explosions. This is not easy, you are very heavy.”

“Oh, Alexei!” Melina scolds him.

“Not that.” He amends, “you know what I mean. It is dead weight.”

You nod, “sure.”

“I look at you together and I see true love and I am happy. You are family now, and this time…we are going to stay together. We’re not leaving without you.” The older man says, helping you onto the metal grate of the falling red room.

Not a second later an explosion rings through your ears, sending Melina, Alexei and your get away vehicle spiraling to the ground.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you’ll make a new plan.

You run toward the flames and gunfire. “Yelena!” You call out, searching the surrounding area.

“Y/N,” Natasha finds you. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t find Yelena.”

“I thought she was with you.” The woman frowns.

“Well she wasn’t!” You bite out, fear and frustration getting the best of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her. You go-“ the red head pauses. Her eyes focused on something behind your head.

You turn to follow Natasha’s gaze. Finding her. Yelena. The wild, unpredictable, firecracker of a woman. On the wing of the jet with Dreykov inside.

“Yelena! Stop!” You rush over, realizing what she’s about to do. Her staff poised at the propeller.

She pauses at the sound of your voice.

“He’s not worth it.” No one is worth it. Not when she is the cost.

Yelena smiles, eyes alight with mischief, “I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

Natasha tries to reason with her. “Don’t do it!”

“This was fun.” Yelena tells her sister, jamming the propeller and effectively destroying Dreykov’s jet. The force of the explosions sends her backwards, hurtling towards the ground with the remaining pieces of the red room.

“Put your pack on and jump.” Natasha tells you. Rushing for the nearest parachute. “I’m going to save my sister.” She dives head first over the edge, without putting on her harness.

“Not if I get there first,” you challenge. This would be a cool way to die.

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

#marvel fanfiction #yelena belova #black widow fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova fanfiction #natasha romanoff #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n

[saphirered]

We've all seen fics where Caleb's SO dies and gets resurrected, and we seen Caleb accidentally hurting his SO, but what about Caleb accidentially killing his SO? Maybe Reader got burned by one of his fire attacks? The revival's successful, but damn, the angst.

Angst was requested and angst you shall receive. I hope this is to your liking. 😘

Trigger warning for death and grief themes.

Caleb sits on his knees, head bowed, whispering pleas in Zemnian to the gods, the world, to you, your cold hand encased between his own, occasionally pressing a kiss to it in the hopes you’d just wake up. But you’re not going to wake up. Not in the way you would in the morning when you’ve had a particularly late night and Caleb has to drag you out of bed, you being stubborn or pretending to still be asleep so you maybe could convince him to join you for a little more. Not in the way after you got knocked out in a fight, when you sit up and rub your eyes with a grunt like usual. Nothing within his capabilities will wake you up.

So here Caleb sits, begging for it to be a nightmare, some sick and twisted tricks played on his mind but there’s no denying this is real and this is the truth. You’re dead. You’re dead and it’s his fault. You ended up as collateral damage in his reckless attempt to kill the creature. You got stuck in the crossfire of that. He hadn’t realised you were doing so bad already, you even sent him a wink right before when he asked if you were okay. Why did you? Why didn’t you just tell him you weren’t? Why did you lie? Not lie, omitted the truth.

He knew exactly why you did it but that doesn’t make it any easier. You’d known the other’s weren’t doing great and barely holding on already. You were severely outmatched and couldn’t get away from the creature. Not without it chasing after you and running you in an even more perilous situation. Anything Caleb could do would affect anyone close to the creature. With Yasha having dragged Beau out of the fray you were the only one left to hold it at bay while the clerics worked on patching them up, Fjord and Veth offering them cover. You were the final line of defence. At the end of the day you had to keep the clerics alive.

Caleb took a calculated risk. A fireball to send the creature dropping into the ruined depths of Aeor. He had tried to keep you out of the range but wouldn’t have been able to strike the creature without putting you at risk. The spell worked and the creature got hit with full force. It was your attack right before the fireball struck that had send it stumbling, then with the blast, it lost its footing and stumbled off the edge.

But you too, dropped. and when you did, the creature’s tail lashed out, grabbing onto your body, dragging you with it. The creature had hit the platform below in its fall and the impact had made it release you, saving you from the full drop. Caleb had rushed to the edge, fear, pain, anger and guilt riddling his mind thinking he had truly lost you but there you were, bloodied, bruised, broken and burned. Because of him. All because of him. How could he have been so stupid and reckless. When he brought your body back to the others, he wasn’t quick enough. You’d already faded into the cold embrace of the Raven Queen and the clerics had expended their last resources.

So that leaves Caleb here, sitting at your side a day after you died, body preserved by the graces of Caduceus and the Wildmother. The clerics set up their ritual, working around him and you as the others help where they can. Beau and Veth had tried to console him, tell him it wasn’t his fault and if he hadn’t they might all have been dead right now. He appreciates his friends trying but it’s of no use. He already made up his mind and it’s not going to change anything. You died because of him. He murdered you and how is that any different than his actions in the past? How does that make him any different than the lives he’s taken in the clutches of his former mentor? Is there truly no redemption for him? You’d slap him for even thinking that way.

“Mr. Caleb? Why don’t you try talking to them? Persuasion has worked in the past to coax someone back.” Caduceus places a hand on the wizard’s shoulder but it barely registers. Yet the firbolg knows they did not fall upon deaf ears when the whispers stop for just a moment.

“I-. I do not think they’d want to hear from their murderer.” Speaking the words make them so much more painful. By the looks of it, Beau is ready to unleash in a degrading rant about how wrong Caleb is, breaking him apart only build him back up but she’s held at bay by Yasha. This is not the time and place. Caduceus doesn’t claim to know what Caleb’s going through, nor may he be the brightest mind here but he understands and can empathise.

“I know no matter what I say it won’t change your feelings so instead I will offer you this. You owe it to them to try. Not for what happened here but for the countless times they’ve been there for you, have had your back, and for the unconditional love they’ve given you. You owe them to try.” The wizard looks up over his shoulder to the firbolg, pain in his eyes, and the trails of silent tears that have long since run out. Caduceus is right. He owes it to you to save you and right now it is within his power to try. If he doesn’t, if he fails he’ll have condemned you to this fate. If he succeeds with this part, he’ll be able to look into your eyes again. You may never forgive him but he hopes to see you smile, hear your voice even if just once more.

Caleb nods looking back at you, bringing your limp fingers up to his lips and pressing them against your knuckles. He takes in a deep breath and tries to find the right words as Caduceus steps back. What are the right words? He cannot afford to fuck this up. He cannot afford to fail. He must succeed. He must.

“I know I might be the last person you want to hear right now. I want you to know I’m sorry-“ Caleb’s voice cracks as he feels the eyes of the others on him. He brushes some of your hair away from your forehead, running his thumb across your cheek.

“I don’t-uh. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I can do this. You’re always here for me during difficult times. You’d put your hand on my cheek and tell me ‘If anyone can do it it’s you, Caleb Widogast. You could move mountains if you set your will to it. Now stop being stubborn before I slap some sense in you.’ but now you’re not here to tell me that. You’ve shown me there’s a world beyond the walls I put up, that there is a light at the end of that tunnel, but now I cannot help but feel the world has grown dull, the walls are caving in, and that light is fading.”

“I have no right, no right to ask you this, but I need you to save my world one more time. So please, I beg of you. Do not leave me to brave this world without you.” The weight of his heart heavy on his conscious. Caleb feels a pressure causing a ringing in his ears. He’s so focussed on you, he cannot take his eyes off you. Not even when the others do their part in the ritual. He realises this pressure is coming from the effects of the spell to bring you back. He holds his breath, not daring to take in oxygen if only to savour the moment, hoping it will not pass, that for just a little longer he can hold on to the hope you’re coming back instead of having that hope crushed by a potential failure.

The pressure fades but nothing happens. Nothing changes. It’s silent as everyone waits for something, anything to happen. That moment alone feels like an eternity of suspense. Caleb finds himself whispering prayers and pleas in Zemnian again, your hand clasped between his own as he squeezes his eyes shut tightly to live through the memories of you, preserve them for the rest of his life just in case because he refuses to forget even a single one of them. He’s so consumed in his own mind he doesn’t notice warmth returning to your fingers. He doesn’t notice your chest beginning to rise and fall. Caleb’s pleas continue.

“Would you mind translating that? I think my brain got a bit scrambled.” Caleb freezes and his eyes open. Your eyes are closed but your brow is furrowed. Furrowed in discomfort. Not sleeping and not void of your usual expressions. Colour has returned to your limbs and face and no longer dulled. Caleb falls silent in disbelief, frozen in place and mind blank.

“Caleb?” You speak his name, peaking through one eye to see the wizard in his disheveled state. You sit up, grunting in pain. Apparently being brought back from the dead isn’t kind on your physical form, not even mentioning the exhaustion weighing on your mind. You could sleep for a couple of hours… or days… or weeks… You could do with a break really. All of you could. You nudge Caleb’s head up by his chin allowing your fingers to slide onto his cheek.

“Blink twice if you need me to get Beauregard to slap you back into reality.” You muster a smile as you brush your thumb over his cheekbone. Caleb doesn’t understand how you’re not recoiling in disgust or lashing back in anger. He doesn’t understand how you can look at him with love and kindness.

“I’m so sorry. Please-“ Caleb goes off in a spur of apologies, begging for your forgiveness.

“Caleb, I love you but you really need to stop. This is a problem for another day.”

“You died. I killed you. How can you even look at me like you do?”

“So what? I died. I’m here now. I got better. Now preferably I’d like to not die again, some things are beyond our control. And if you need some kind of reassurance; Veth killed Cad that one time and he doesn’t hate her.” Veth yells a ‘hey’ in defence while you earn a chuckle from the firbolg. You know Caleb isn’t just going to take your word for it and you’re also not going to make anyone buy you’re totally okay with just dying and being brought back to life because you’re not but you also know that you can’t blame Caleb for being a factor in what happened when you yourself were aware of the risks of the situation you were in. You made your own bet and it didn’t pay off but all your friends are still alive and well, Caleb’s still alive and well and that alone makes it worth the risk you took.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” Caleb breathes as he pulls you into his arms with a gentleness as if you’re made of porcelain, or will fade out of existence if he holds on too tightly.

“I think I have a pretty good estimate but we can compare notes later if you’d prefer.” You pull back enough to look at Caleb’s face, brush aside some of the red strands and softly place your lips on his. It’s not a heated kiss but one filled with emotion and a desperation no less. Neither of you thought you’d get to be in each other’s arms again but here you are despite everything. Maybe your work here isn’t done yet. You still got some asses to kick.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb x reader #caleb widogast x reader #critical role #mighty nein

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 25

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 25 - This Venerable One Hates Him So Much!

Chu Wanning couldn't force a "go away" to leave his throat. There was a long sombre pause before he changed his answer to: "Come in."

"Huh? Your door isn't locked?" They had been giving each other the silent treatment all day. But now, Mo Ran had the intention of reconciling with him, so he pushed open the door as he spoke like nothing had ever happened. Chu Wanning, on the other hand, sat expressionlessly at the table. He raised his eyes and glanced at him faintly.

In all fairness, Mo Ran was incredibly beautiful, and the whole room seemed to brighten as soon as he walked in the door. He was indeed very young. His skin was tight and seemed to exude a faint glow. The corners of his mouth were naturally slightly curled, and he seemed to be smiling even when he wasn't showing any emotion.

Chu Wanning didn't move his eyes off of Mo Ran. His slender eyelashes drooped and raised his hand to pinch out the incense burning on the table. He coldly asked:

"What are you doing here?"

"I came. . . to check your injury." Mo Ran awkwardly coughed. His eyes fell on Chu Wanning's shoulder and he froze. "You dressed it already?"

Chu Wanning faintly said: "Yes."

Mo Ran didn't know what to say: ". . ."

He really hated Chu Wanning, and he was furious that Chu Wanning had hurt Shi Mei. But, after calming down, Mo Ran wasn't completely without a conscience. Yeah, he hated him, but he didn't forget that Chu Wanning's shoulder was injured.

In the claustrophobic coffin, Chu Wanning had tightly guarded him in his arms, blocking the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws with his own body. His body had trembled in pain but he didn't let go. . .

To Chu Wanning, Mo Ran was disgusting.

But in addition to disgust, some very complicated emotions were always mixed in with it for some reason.

He was a rude person. He didn't read books when he was a child. Although he obtained some literary knowledge later, he still couldn't grasp many concepts easily when it came to many delicate things, especially when it came to feelings.

For example, when it came to Chu Wanning, Mo Ran rubbed his head and pondered. The back of his head was going to go bald, but he still couldn't figure out what this feeling was.

He can only identify certain kinds of feelings: love, hate, detest, happiness and unhappiness.

If all these emotions were mixed together, the wise and powerful cultivation emperor would get crossed-eyed and really dizzy.

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He didn't know. Help, my head hurts.

So Mo Ran didn't bother to dwell on it. Besides, he didn't have time to focus on any details other than Shi Mei.

He didn't hold good feelings for Chu Wanning in his heart, and while secretly plotting when he might have an opportunity in the future, he would make him pay with double the ferocity. On the other hand, he felt guilty. After an internal battle with himself, he finally knocked on Chu Wanning's door.

He didn't want to owe Chu Wanning.

But Chu Wanning was more stubborn and ruthless than he thought.

Mo Ran stared at the pile of blood-stained cotton gauze on the table, the bowl of hot water stained red with blood, and the sharp knife that was thrown haphazardly thrown aside. The tip of the knife was still coated with flesh and blood. His head was spinning.

How did he manage to heal himself?

Had he really cut off the festering flesh without so much as blinking? Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. Was this guy even human?

He thought about when he had cleaned up Shi Mei's wound. Shi Mei had groaned softly in pain with tears in the corners of his eyes. Even though Mo Ran didn’t like Chu Wanning, he couldn’t help but silently give him credit——

Elder Yuheng was truly a domineering and righteous man, no arguments there.

After standing in place for a while, Mo Ran was the first to break the silence. He coughed, tapping his toes against the floor, and awkwardly said: "What happened in the Chen house. . . Shizun, I'm sorry."

Chu Wanning didn't say anything.

Mo Ran stole a glance at him: "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Chu Wanning still ignored him. His face was still. As always, he had no reaction, but that didn't mean he wasn't aggravated and just not saying anything.

Mo Ran walked over. When he got closer, he saw the mess of bandages on Chu Wanning's shoulder. The cotton gauze was tied in several different ways. It looked like a group of crabs that were stuck together.

". . ."

Also, for a person who doesn't know how to wash his own clothes, can he really be trusted to treat himself?

Mo Ran sighed: "Shizun, don't be angry."

"Do I look angry?" Chu Wanning angrily responded.

Mo Ran: ". ."

After a long pause.

"Shizun, that's not how you wrap a bandage. . ."

He retorted unceremoniously: "You want you to teach me?"

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He raised his hand. He wanted to help Chu Wanning untie the gauze and wrap it again, but he was observant and felt that if he dared to touch him, he might end up with a lashing, so he hesitated.

He raised his hand then lowered it, and then raised it again, repeating the action several times. Chu Wanning was getting annoyed. He squinted at him: "What are you doing? Do you still want to fight me?"

". . ." He really wanted to fight him, but now wasn't a good time.

Mo Ran smiled sheepishly. Throwing caution to the wind, he suddenly reached over and grabbed his shoulders, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth: "Shizun, let me help you re-bandage it."

Chu Wanning wanted to refuse, but Mo Ran's warm fingers had already wrapped around the bandage. His mouth felt dry and stiff. He couldn't speak, so his lips moved slightly but nothing came out.

The gauze was peeled off layer by layer. Blood had soaked through it, and when it was all torn back, the five holes were piercingly obvious and hideous.

Just looking at it, he shuddered. It was many times more serious than the would on Shi Mei's face.

Mo Ran didn't know what he was looking at. He was stunned, then suddenly asked softly: "Does it hurt?"

Chu Wanning lowered his long and slender eyelashes, and simply said lightly: "It's fine."

Mo Ran said: "I'll be gentle."

Chu Wanning didn't know what he was thinking, and suddenly his ear flushed a little red. As a result, he got angry with himself again. He thought he was going crazy. All day he had been thinking up such nonsensical thoughts. His expression grew stiff. His temper worsened, and he said dryly, "It's up to you."

The candlelight in the guest room flickered. In the dim light, he could see that he had completely missed some spots with the ointment. Mo Ran was honestly speechless. He thought it was a miracle that Chu Wanning was still alive and healthy today.

"Shizun."

"Hmm?"

"What happened to you today at the Chen house? Why did you suddenly lash out and hit someone?" He asked while applying some ointment.

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, then replied: "I was angry."

Mo Ran asked: "Why were you so angry?"

Chu Wanning didn't want to trouble his disciple, so he told Mo Ran a brief and concise version of Luo Xianxian's story. After Mo Ran listened to the story, he shook his head: "You're stupid. In this kind of situation, even if you're angry, you shouldn't confront them about it to their face. If it were me, I would've made a mess of things and lie to them that the ghost had been removed, and then pat their asses and leave, letting them fend for themselves. Just look at you making a scene over such a rotten man. You knew you probably wouldn't get through to him, and then you missed and wounded Shi Mei--"

Halfway through the sentence, Mo Ran abruptly stopped. He stared silently at Chu Wanning.

He tied the bandage carefully. He was a little forgetful and he was talking to Chu Wanning like he had when he was 32, pretty cheekily.

Chu Wanning obviously noticed. He squinted his eyes, looking coldly at Mo Ran. That look resembled a very familiar phrase - "See if I don't whip you to death."

"Uh. . ."

Before his brain had thought up a response, Chu Wanning has already begun speaking.

He said indifferently: "Is Shi Mingjing the one I wanted to fight?"

When Shi Mei was mentioned, Mo Ran's originally calm mental state started to shift and his tone hardened: "Isn't he the person you hit?"

Chu Wanning did regret hitting him, but he couldn't admit it. At this moment, his face was sullen and he didn't say a word.

Chu Wanning was the stubborn type. Mo Ran was the lovesick type. Their eyes meet and sparks crackled. The atmosphere that had just eased a little became hopelessly stagnant again.

Mo Ran said: "Shi Mei didn't do anything wrong. Shizun, you hurt him by accident. Don't you want to say that you're sorry?"

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes dangerously: "Are you questioning me?"

". . . I'm not." Mo Ran paused. "I just feel bad that he got hurt but never got an apology from Shizun."

Under the candlelight, the handsome and youthful teenager finished wrapping the last bandage on Chu Wanning's wound and carefully tied a knot. It may have looked like the scene was quite warm, but the mood between them had changed. Especially Chu Wanning; his chest felt like a jar of vinegar had exploded in it. The feeling of sourness was overwhelming and he felt angry and annoyed.

Apologize?

How do you even spell that word? Who'll teach him how to write?

Mo Ran said: "It'll take half a year for the wound on his face to heal. When I gave him some medicine just now, he still told me not to blame you. Shizun, he doesn't blame you, but do you think that justifies what you did?"

This sentence was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

Chu Wanning had been enduring it but he finally couldn't hold it back. He suppressed his voice and muttered: "Get out."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Chu Wanning exploded: "Get out!"

Mo Ran was forced out and the door slammed shut in his face, almost clamping his fingers. Mo Ran was furious. Just look at this! What kind of person was this? All this just to avoid apologizing? Such cherished and treasured pride. What was so difficult about saying sorry? All he needs to do is move his mouth. This Venerable One was the Emperor TaXian, yet this Venerable One didn't hesitate to apologize to others. As for the Beidou Immortal, half of his words were inexplicable, as if he had swallowed them. What a ridiculous temper!

No wonder no one cared about such a handsome face!

It was a waste of time. He deserved to stay single for the rest of his life!

Since Chu Wanning would rather ignore him and give him a closed-door to talk to, then of course the high and mighty cultivation emperor, the emperor of the human world, wouldn't lose any sleep over this. Although he was tenacious and as hard to get rid of as a piece of sticky candy, he stuck to Shi Mei, not his shizun.

He immediately left without a care and went to join Shi Mei.

"Why are you back so soon?" Shi Mei was in the midst of lying down to rest when he saw Mo Yan come in. He froze and sat up, long strands of ink hair hanging all over the place. "How's Shizun?"

"Very good. His temper is as strong as usual."

Shi Mei: ". . ."

Mo Ran brought over a chair and sat on it backwards. His hand rested on the back of the Taishi chair, a lazy smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. His gaze flicked across the appearance of Shi Mei's soft and long hair.

Shi Mei said: "Why don't I go and see him. . ."

"Don't think too much about it." Mo Ran rolled his eyes. "He's terrible."

"Did you make him angry again?"

"He needs someone to provoke him? He makes himself angry. I think he's made of wood considering he's so flammable."

Shi Mei shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Mo Ran said: "Get some rest. I'll borrow the kitchen downstairs and make you some food."

Shi Mei said: "What's the fuss? You haven't closed your eyes all night. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Haha, I am in good spirits." Mo Ran laughed. "But if you can't bear me leaving, I can stay with you for a while until you fall asleep."

Shi Mei hurriedly waved his hand and said warmly: "No, if you have to look at me like this, I won't be able to sleep either. You should go to bed early. Don't exhaust yourself."

The curvature in the corners of his mouth stiffened slightly. Mo Ran was a little sad.

Although Shi Mei treated him kindly, he always maintained such a distant attitude. It was the attitude of someone who was obviously close at hand, but as the moon in the mirror and the flower in the water, he could be seen but not obtained.

". . . Okay." In the end, he just tried to cheer up and laughed. Mo Ran's smile was very bright. When he wasn't completely evil, he was actually pretty silly and cute. "Call me if you need anything. I'm either right next door or downstairs."

"Okay."

Mo Ran raised his hand, wanting to touch his hair, but he held back. He spun his hand around in the air and scratched his head.

"I'm leaving."

Outside of the room, Mo Ran couldn't help but sneeze.

He sniffed.

Because Caidie Town produced incense, the price of all the different kinds of incense wasn't as expensive, so the inn wasn't stingy with it. Each room was lit with a long branch of special incense; one can ward off evil spirits, another can dehumidify, the last one can give the room a nice fragrance.

But as soon as Mo Ran smelled the incense, it made him uncomfortable. But if Shi Mei liked it, he would endure it.

Coming downstairs, Mo Yan wandered over to the innkeeper, slipped him a silver ingot. He squinted his eyes and said with a smile: "Innkeeper, do me a favour."

The innkeeper looked at the silver ingot and smiled more politely at Mo Ran: "What is this immortal gentleman's request?"

Mo Ran said: "I see that not many people come here to eat breakfast. I wanted to discuss that with you. I want to use the kitchen this morning. Please let the other guests know."

How much money would breakfast make him? It would probably be impossible to earn a silver ingot in half a month. The innkeeper immediately smiled and agreed, leading the swaggering Mo Weiyu into the kitchen of the inn.

"You want to cook by yourself? It's better to let the chef in our inn do it. He's very talented."

"No need." Mo Ran smiled. "Have you heard of the Jade Wine Building in Xiangtan?"

"Ah. . . Is that the famous music performance building that started getting popular more than a year ago?"

Mo Ran: "Yeah."

The boss took a peek outside and confirmed that his wife was busy and couldn't overhear. He snickered and said, "Who hasn't heard of it? It's the most famous restaurant on the Xiangjiang River. It used to have a lead musician there. It’s a pity it's so far away, otherwise, I'd want to listen to her play a song."

Mo Ran laughed: "Thank you for the compliment. I'll pass it onto her."

"Pass it on?" The innkeeper was puzzled. "Do you know her?"

Mo Ran said: "More than just know."

"Wow. . .You don't say? But you cultivators can be. . . well. . ."

Mo Ran interrupted him with a smile: "Other than the lead musician, do you know anything else?"

"Hmm. . . Their food was said to be a must."

The corners of Mo Ran's mouth curled higher and he smiled brighter. He skillfully picked up the kitchen knife and said: "Before I took up cultivation, I was a cook in the kitchen in the Jade Wine Building for several years. You said that your chefs make delicious dishes. Whose is better, theirs or mine?"

The innkeeper was even more shocked, and stammered out: "You're really. . . really. . ."

He couldn't get the words out.

Mo Ran gazed at him with narrowed eyes. His smile was barely holding back his smug and cocky demeanour: "You can leave. This chef is going to cook something."

The innkeeper didn’t know that he was talking to the former Lord of Darkness, and he put on a cheeky expression: “I've heard a lot about Jade Wine House's exquisite desserts. I wonder if you would let me have a bite once they're ready?"

He didn't think this was too high of a request. Mo Ran would definitely agree.

Who would've expected Mo Ran to squint his eyes and say with a smirk: "You want some?"

"Hmph!"

"Really?" Mo Ran snorted. He was bursting with pride. He scoffed: "You think I would cook for just anyone? This Venerable One is doing this just for Shi Mei. If not for him, I wouldn't even be lighting a fire to cook. . ."

He flipped a radish over and started to slice it, muttering.

". . ." The innkeeper slumped defeatedly. He rubbed his hands and stood there awkwardly. He halfheartedly chuckled at him then left.

He was also muttering to himself.

This Venerable One? For someone this young, his spiritual core hasn't even fully formed yet. He thought about his chatter and how he was probably referring to his elder sister disciple, but there was no female cultivator among the group who walked with him today.

The innkeeper rolled his eyes.

This person must be deluded.

Mo Ran stayed busy in the kitchen for several hours. It was almost noon when the work was finished, and he rushed upstairs to wake Shi Mei up.

When passing by Chu Wanning's room, he slowly came to a stop.

Should he ask if he wanted to eat together. . .

Thinking of Chu Wanning's harsh temperament, Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat, his face full of contempt.

No, no, no. He only had a few portions. There wasn't enough to share with him!

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan

[one-sad-human]

•Dinner First• Vince Neil

Pairing: Vince Neil x Reader

Requested? Yes! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, drinking, peer pressure

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Just when I was starting to post consistently. Sorry! I took a break from writing for a little, but I’m back now! Also, did you guys here that new GnR song? Tell me your thoughts!

You grimace, pulling Nikki's hair back as he pukes into the toilet. You're in the cramped bathroom of a tour bus, wishing you were literally anywhere else.

"Alright, I think I'm good now," the man says, contradicting his statement when he starts heaving again a moment after.

This isn't the first time you've been in this position, you doubt highly it'll be your last. You've been in similar situations with all of the men in Mötley Crüe, although Mick usually handled himself.

You're something that could be compared to a babysitter, except instead of taking care of children, you watch over almost constantly intoxicated men on tour. Their manager had hired you to do so, as you're one of his old friend's children and the most responsible young person he knows.

You don't drink or do drugs, you wear put together clothes, and— in the nicest way to say it— are a tad stuck up. You're a goodie two shoes, you don't have a rebellious bone in your body.

You're the perfect person to take care of the Crüe. You're paid to make sure they make it to all their shows and don't overdose or do anything equally as stupid. The job isn't glamorous, but you get to tour the world and get paid along the way.

"Ok, Nik. Time for bed," you say, a mockingly sweet tone to your voice. Nikki nods, going along with it and leaning against you heavily as you walk him to his small bed. You make sure he takes two Advils before passing out.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you feel a headache brewing. You take some pain relievers yourself before stumbling over to your bunk and passing out shortly after.

The morning comes too quick, and you heave yourself up. You half walk half shuffle over to the coffee machine, moving on autopilot to make a fresh pot of pure caffeine.

"Mornin' good lookin'," says Vince, the blonde leaning on the counter next to you.

"Good morning," you say, ignoring the nickname. "You're up early."

"Heard the coffee machine," he lies. He wanted to talk to you alone without anyone bothering him. "Listen, we have the day off in a new city. I was wondering if maybe you'd want to—"

"Coffee, outta the way," Nikki says, shoving past you and Vince. There goes that.

Vince has been desperately trying to get a date with you for months, ever since the tour started. It seems like every time he works up the nerves to do it, he's interrupted.

"Sorry, Vinnie, what were you saying?" You ask, patiently waiting for Nikki to get his coffee so you can. The blonde shakes his head, waving a hand to dismiss the question and walks away.

"Nothing," he says and walks to sit in a small booth. Vince has never feared rejection like he does with you, usually he has all the confidence in the world. Vince is usually the definition of cool confidence. He isn't sure what there is about you, but it makes him nervous and gives him butterflies.

"Day off, no gig, what're we doing?" Tommy asks, now coming to join everyone to get coffee.

"We're in fucking New York, we're hitting CBGB!" Nikki says, nursing his cup of coffee you can only guess he made Irish seeing as his eyes have opened all the way.

"Fuck yeah!" Tommy speaks up. Vince sighs, knowing he won't get a date and you'll end up taking care of all of their drunk asses by midnight.

     You sigh into your cup of soda, swirling it around and watching the bubbles fizzing and popping. It had ended up like every other night, in a bar with overly obnoxious, head pounding music playing.

     "Having fun yet, Y/N?" Tommy asks, doing that weird trick where he sticks the cigarette in his nose. You make a disgusted face, rolling your eyes before agreeing.

     "You're such a fucking buzzkill. Would it kill you to just live a little? Have a drink! Here!" Nikki chimes in, sliding a shot of liquor. You slide it back.

     "No thanks." He rolls his eyes.

     "They don't want to drink, Nikki. Just leave them the fuck alone," Vince says, narrowing his eyes at the bassist. Mick takes his leave and ventures into a darker corner or the club, not wanted to be apart of the fight that is sure to ensue.

     "Well, excuse me!" He says snootily. "I'm just trying to get Y/N to have fun! All they ever do is breath down my neck. Makes me fucking nervous."

     "Nikki's right Y/N! Have some fun with us!"

     "I'm not here to have fun, this is my job," you say, you're face getting flushed and hot with anger. "I'm just here to make sure you live to see your next gig."

     "Killjoy," Tommy mutters. "Just one shot? I'll do it with you!"

     "Shut the fuck up!" Vince suddenly yells, his fist hitting the table and making the glasses and bottles rattle. "Leave them the fuck alone, all you're doing is making them upset. They said no, so stop badgering them."

     "It's alright, Vinnie—"

     "No it's not! They're constantly pestering you and I'm fucking tired of it!" Vince suddenly stands up. "Come on, lets go."

     You hesitantly stand up, grabbing your coat and following Vince out the door. You're already embarrassed for them causing a scene, you wouldn't want to stay behind where you're sure to get strange looks.

     "Where're we going?" Vince shrugs, protectively putting an arm around your shoulder and leading you farther from the crowed club. It sends tingles all the way down your spine, and you have to be extra careful walking to make sure your knees don't give out.

     "Away from those dicks. I hate the way they try to pressure you into shit all the time." You raise a brow and turn your head to look at the handsome blonde. The street lights bounce off his tanned face in an angelic way, his light locks of hair swaying in the warm breeze.

     "Why did it bother you that much?" You ask him, your voice low. Vince suddenly looks nervous.

     "Because," his voice is quiet and shakes with nerves. "I like you, Y/N. A lot." He stops walking and turns to you. "You're always so cool and chill, you always have an answer to everything and you're put together. You so goddamn smart, if I have a problem I know I can always go to you because you'll have a solution. It pisses me off when they think you're some weakling who'll do whatever they say."

     You're shocked into silence. Your mouth opens and closes a few times but no words form. You had no idea Vince had any feelings for you, you always thought he just liked that you made sure he didn't kill himself doing something stupid.

     "Seriously?" You ask once your mouth and brain start to function again. "You really feel that way?"

     "Would I lie to you about this?" You answer him by pressing your lips to his, your soft plump lips moving against his slightly chapped ones slowly and lovingly. His lips taste of cheap beer and cigarettes but there's a shadow of minty toothpaste. Vince has had his share of make outs, but nothing has ever felt this close and intimate.

     "I really like you, too." You smile when you pull away, your head dipping down slightly with a blush tinting your face. Vince smiles back and places his hands on your hips.

     "What do you say to heading back to the bus? It's empty." You shake your head, and Vince deflates instantly and disappointment floods his eyes. Maybe he got his thoughts up too soon, maybe you don't like him as much as he likes you.

     "Dinner first, and if you're nice and gentlemanly, and only if you're nice and gentlemanly, I'll think about going further," you say, and Vince laughs a little in relief before nodding. "Deal?"

     "Deal."

#classic rock imagine #motley crue imagine #motley crue x reader #motley crue #vince neil x reader #vince neil imagine #vince neil #80s

[hyogonokitsune]

haikyuu boys as things my fwb has said to me, part 2

atsumu

I may or may not have slightly edited my tinder photos to make my ass look fatter

I hate having manners

I’m gonna kill myself I just found a tick in doomah. doomah? do mah nuts fit in your mouth 😎

is it weird for me to be obsessed with how big all my friends’ dicks are? whatever

oh, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t smack my ass just now. did you want me to? yeah 😔

oikawa

I just... really wanna get pegged

why didn’t you tell me my lips were so chapped?? I look disgusting

happy pride month, my bisexual queen. although I think you should be wishing me a happy pride, because I’ve recently developed crushes on some UFC fighters and it’s making me question some things

I hear that cum is a good skin soother

I’m only obsessed with select men’s penises

kuroo

only bad bitches have IUDs 😤

look at how small my dick is when it’s soft. just a teeny lil winkie

your coochie is immaculate

a clown must always ride around in his or her clown car, metaphorically, physically, and emotionally

I almost got into an accident the other day. I was, uhh, playing chess on my phone on the highway

I vacillate between a lovable moron and a hyper intelligent troll

suna

*shares positive feedback I got from a professor* that means he wants to stuff you

my friend paid me $50 to do shrooms with him, so that’s why I’m tripping at the gym right now

I’ll pay for us to go mini golfing, and then I’ll take you out for dinner but I’m just gonna pay for my own meal :)

I might have become like a low key drug dealer. just a little bit

middle parts are 💯

osamu

*sends him a picture of a cake I made* that looks BUSSIN

I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little bitter that all these ticks are crawling on me and none of them are on you

those trees that smell like cum are blooming again

I wanted to kiss you just now, but I have Taki breath

do you think it would be disrespectful to bring some snacks with us on this walk through a cemetery?

do you remember that park we were in last night? apparently they found a body there a few weeks ago. whatever

bokuto

how soon is too soon to piss in front of someone in the woods?

the neck is one of the body’s androgynous zones. you mean erogenous zones? yeah that’s what I said

*gets not one, but two bowling balls stuck in the gutter*

sorry I can’t hug you for too long, I might get a boner and we’re in public

kita

come here, let’s enjoy the transient beauty of nature together

are you feeling touch starved? you want a hug?

I’m sorry you had a bad day queen 😔

he needs some goat milk to straighten him out, show him some discipline

sakusa

this is the most disgusting city on the planet, god bless 🙏🏼

god damn, my skin is absolutely glowing today

you’re my favorite little whore

hinata

what’s your wifi password? uhh, BingusBingus

hey can I give you a penny? just so I can say I’ve paid someone for sex

it’s easier for guys to pee wherever they want, but pooping is the great equalizer

I did not shit in those woods. I shat in some other woods

I’m smarter than the average pill bug

iwaizumi

is it homophobic of me to not let you win at bowling?

you sometimes speak like abe lincoln

do I pick friends based on if they are attractive? sometimes

tanaka

I just farted outside of my friend’s house and sent it to him as an audio clip to antagonize him

I just pissed for 55 seconds, who wants to try and beat my record?

god gave me a dick and balls so I could helicopter them at my nemesis's funeral

I’d let you do literally whatever you wanted to me. that made my balls happy reading that

I don’t get the hot boy attention I deserve from enough women

kenma

you listen to music while you go on walks, I listen to podcasts on bloodborne lore while I go to the gym using my stolen membership, we are not the same

quarantine did irreparable damage to my brain

*sends a picture of him holding a frying pan over his sleeping friend’s head* I’m about to tom & jerry this bitch

--

➣masterlist

--

➣taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

@crystal-lilac @rinniesbbygirl  @rinsangel

#haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu headcanons #atsumu headcanons #oikawa tooru headcanons #oikawa headcanons #kuroo tetsurou headcanons #kuroo headcanons #suna rintarou headcanons #suna headcanons #miya osamu headcanons #osamu headcanons #bokuto koutarou headcanons #bokuto headcanons #kita shinsuke headcanons #kita headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #sakusa headcanons #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata headcanons #iwaizumi hajime headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #tanaka ryuunosuke headcanons #tanaka headcanons #kozume kenma headcanons #kenma headcanons #niakasi writing

[johnsamericano]

『 ‎ ‎لąҽհվմղ / ᎠҽӀմʂìօղ 』

warnings: mental illness implied, hallucinations, meds, aggressive jaehyun, implied sexual relations.

taglist: @nakamotocore @jisooapproved @la-ra-rumi @winwiniee @yijiujiujiu @nctlovesme

loveholic masterlist.

Lies.

That's what Jaehyun hated the most in the world, lies.

He hated the way you'd smile at him during class, only to pretend he wasn't even there as soon as you exited the room. It wasn't fair. He wanted to confront you, wanted to ask for an explanation for your uninterested attitude, but anytime he'd try, words got stuck in his throat, choking him uncomfortably.

Jaehyun wasn't sure when his interest in you began growing. He was never one to have secret crushes, so then, why you? What made you special enough for him to like you?

The answer came one lucky day when the professor paired you up together for a project. While people usually whined when being put in the same team with someone other than their friends, you seemed all but annoyed, smiling with your white, pearly teeth and waving at him as if he were your very best friend.

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” It was his first time speaking to you, beads of sweat collecting on his upper lip. “Jaehyun, right?”

He hated small talk almost as much as lies. Almost. But when it came to you, he could do it all day long if it meant listening to your delightful voice. All of his pent-up frustrations scattered as you started planning your schedule to work on the project. He’d only hum in approval, still too shy to speak to you.

“So tomorrow's okay with you?” Your head was tilted to the side, the tender skin of your neck looking awfully tempting. He pictured himself kissing it, having you struggle under his weight while he kissed it for hours on end. “Jae?” He was pulled out of the scenario his mind was working through by a gentle hand on his wrist.

There were no mirrors nearby, but the tips of his ears were surely tinted red by now. But most importantly, his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight in his crotch area. A touch from you was all his body needed to go insane.

“Sure.” You smiled, removing your hand from its previous spot. His skin itched for more contact, but he was too shy to initiate anything. “I need to go to the restroom.”

He rushed out of the classroom with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, pushing the fabric forward to conceal his growing boner. He relieved himself inside the small cubicle, his own heavy breathing muffled under the sound of a couple doing less than appropriate things inside the following stall. Would that be you and him one day? Probably, but not quite yet.

Your kindness had no limits. That's what Jaehyun thought when you sat down to have lunch with him, the guy who no one ever liked enough to hang out with.

“Why?” He asked on the second occasion you sit with him.

“Because I like you.”

You started hanging out more often not long after that. Even after you handed in your work, you were keen on staying by his side, and he had nothing to complain about. It was as if the universe was finally smiling at him, all the times you'd ignored him after class now long forgotten. He was happier, brighter than usual. He told his roommate, the closest friend he had, about you. He was happy for Jaehyun, of course, but a feeling in his gut told him something was off.

The night before your spring break started, you invited him to a frat party. He’d never been to one, he didn't like them. But you were so insisting that he had no other choice but to oblige. The entire house smelled like sweat, alcohol, and drugs, disgusting, he thought. However, it was all worth it when he finally got to see you, tucked inside a tight dress that showed the figure you'd so thoroughly hide in baggy shirts. He approached you, wanting to greet you, but one of your friends dragged you away. He didn't mind it, the night was still young and he'd have plenty of time to be with you.

Not even five minutes later, you reappeared by his side, giving him one of your signature eye smiles.

“Having fun, pretty boy?” A light blush crept up his face, settling at the tip of his ears. “Let’s dance.”

His hands were firmly gripping your hips as you rubbed your body on his, causing a more than an obvious problem in his pants. Before his brain could register the current events happening, your lips were on his. It all felt too sudden, yet, he enjoyed the way you'd nip at his lower lip. It sent him to frenzy.

“I’m so wet, Jae.” You mumbled seductively against his fleshy pillows. “Want you to make me feel good.”

You dragged him to the closest room, increasing under his adoring gaze. You were so beautiful, and all his. The promise of your union was sealed that night, as you fell asleep between his arms after three intense rounds of pure bliss.

“Jaehyun?” He felt someone shaking his shoulder, it was a male voice. His arms instinctively closed tighter around your naked body to hide it from whoever was calling him, only to realize it wasn't you who was between them, but a mere pillow. “Dude, get up.” It was his roommate Johnny, picking him up after he got a call from one of the frat members. “You got so wasted yesterday, let's go, I'll take you for food.”

Wasted? He hadn't drunk anything the previous night. Nonetheless, he left the house after dressing up. He tried calling you as they waited for their waffles to no avail.

“Jaehyun, I saw your pills today in the trash bin. Have you stopped taking them?” Johnny seemed truly concerned.

“I’m better now, John. For real.” The sincerity in his words put his roommate’s heart at ease. “I found someone, I like her a lot and it seems like she does as well.”

“Dude, that's awesome. We should hang out soon, I'll invite my girlfriend.” A double date, it felt like you and Jaehyun were finally official. But the question remained, why had you left the house early in the morning?

“Sure.”

Because you wouldn't pick up any of his calls, he had to wait until Monday to confront you. During breakfast, Johnny had crushed some of his pills and sneaked them into his eggs, you can never be too safe, he thought. And, oh boy was he right.

You were picking up your belongings from your locker, getting ready to go back home during the break.

“Hey.” He leaned against the closest wall, flashing you a dimpled smile.

“Oh, hey...Jay, right?” Was that a joke?

“Sure, whatever you want. So, my roommate wants to meet you, just let me know whenever you have time and I'll tell him. By the way...” He leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of your ears. Some curious eyes were looking at you, eager to know what was happening. “I really enjoyed that night, but it would've been better if I'd woken up with you between my arms.”

“Excuse me?” You backed away abruptly, escaping his proximity. “I think you're taking me for someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

Realization hit him like a truck. You were ignoring him yet again, but he wasn't gonna take it this time. He hated lies.

“Come with me.” He gripped your forearm, easily dragging you all the way to the janitor's closet. “You don't get to play dumb with me anymore. Stop fucking lying.” You looked like a scared little mouse about to be eaten by a cat.

“I-I’m sorry, but I'm not lying, the only time I've spoken to you was when we worked together. We haven't been in touch ever since.” Even in a situation like this, you still pretended to be kind.

“Lies.” His hands closed against your neck, slightly choking you. “I don't like them, so you better be good and tell me the truth before I do something we'll both regret.” Your eyes welled with tears as you begged for your life, his grip getting tighter with every second. “Come on, angel.”

“I’m sorry, I'm a liar!” Your air supply was running short and your only option was to say what he wanted to hear, even if it was just a lie. “Please!”

“That’s a good doll.” He let go of your bruised neck, letting you fall on your knees as you coughed. “Now, you better stop lying for your own good, are we clear?”

“Yes!” You choked out, unsure of what was happening at the moment.

“I’ll call you later, have your phone by your side.”

You had walked into a trap without even knowing it.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct jaehyun #nct yandere

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki x dabi #shigadabi #bee.writes