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satorusdiary · 1 year

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dilf!toji being your ex bf

fluff & angst + making up + cuddling + toji not being able to resist you when you look so fragile + toji forever loving you

part 2! - back in love !

You sent 1:03 am

hey, r u awake?

toji places the cigarette back down on the ashtray, looking at his phone slightly shocked. it’s been months since you and him have had contact, the split up that has happened to your relationship has left a strain in his heart.

why did you text him at this hour? and most importantly, why aren’t you asleep? toji knows how well your sleep schedule usually was.

his friends look at him concerned, the look on toji’s face confusing them even more compared to when he stopped smoking repeatedly just a few seconds ago.

“fushiguro, you good?” satoru questions, patting his friends shoulder as he looks over at his friends phone. he wasn’t able to get a look at the message before toji pulls the phone into a direction that wasn’t able to be seen.

“yeah.. jus’ lemme call someone real quick.” before the rest of his friends could protest, toji is up and walking over to an empty room in the apartment. taking a seat on the bed.

Toji sent 1:09 am

thought i told you to lose my number

now that’s something he wouldn’t text you, he immediately starting regretting sending that message the second you immediately read the message.

you were his sweet little girl. the young woman who he swore he was gonna marry, the one he swore to have kids with.

things were different when he realized how much his life would have an impact on you if you stayed with him.

what’s good about a sweet girl who has a bright future getting with a older man selling illegal substances, that could send him to jail for years and years.

yeah not good at all.

toji knew what’s best for you, and if it meant him not being with you then it was worth it.

because he loved you, and would do physically anything in his power for you to have the best in life.

You sent 1:09 am

i know, i just need someone to talk to rn. i’m sorry

his heart weeps, you still want his comfort even after he has completely broke you, and your relationship with him.

he should be in jail for just breaking you in general.

toji sighs, not knowing how to reply. he wants to comfort you, yet he wants to push you away from his life. push you away from the trouble and the dangers that could happen to you.

he thinks you have given up until you text him 3 minutes later.

You sent 1:12 am

can i call you, please toji?

he couldnt deny it. he just couldnt. his love for you was simply unbreakable even if you weren’t together anymore.

his friends out in the living room are most likely concerned and worried for toji, but that’s the least of his problems. he needs to know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt.

‘incoming call from Toji’

he swears his heart skips a beat when the call goes through.

toji is not one to get nervous. especially with anything in general. but when it came to you, everything comes crashing down. when it comes to you, toji is willing to do anything for you, because you were his girl. his love.

“..hi” your voice is shaky, it seems you’re nervous as well. could he blame you though? this was the first time in months he has actually spoke to you.

“hey.” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice the weak tone in his voice as he spoke.

there’s a moment of silence, and soft breathing from your end before toji speaks up.

“are you ok? why’d you call me.”

it’s harsh, his tone is harsh. your eyes begin watering, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“i-i am just having trouble sleeping, that’s all. ‘wanted your company atleast to calm me down.” your tone has a small strain, as if you were crying for hours before you called him.

it was as if he was able to see your puffy eyes through the screen, he could just imagine it now.

“there’s something else, hm? c’mon tell me, y’know i won’t judge.” especially with you. is what he wanted to say as-well, but he couldn’t get to soft with you now. he couldn’t.

he hears a sniffle from your end, feeling his heart clench once more. as if his heart is dropping to the bottom of his stomach.

“okay.. t-truth is i usually sleep better with you ‘round. but since you’re gone, ‘ts been kinda rough. i just wanted to call you for once, to see if it would help..” you confessed, voice breaking down in between sentences.

toji has an urge to put you down, and hang up. but he couldn’t, how could he resist you? especially after everything he has put you through.

the bracelet on his wrist that has your initials come into his vision. you had made this for him when he was sick, he has never took it off ever since.

“y’want me to come over? not gonna make contact, jus’ gonna be there til you sleep.” he says calmly, he swore he could’ve heard you sigh in relief.

“mhmm, yes please..” you’re still polite, his sweet girl is still sweet around him. that’s what he misses with you.

“alright’ be there in 10. jus know i’m never doin this shit again, kay?” he says harshly, too harsh.

you sniffle again, he could tell your frowning and having tears drop on your phone screen. his heart strings get tugged, and he calms his weeping heart.

he’s hurt you once again.

the call ends before you could say anything else, and he’s out of the bedroom quickly taking his keys. his friends look at him concerned.

“yo, you good?” suguru comments, looking up at his friend who was ready to leave the apartment.

“where you going?” satoru also questions.

toji shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he turns to look at his of friends once again.

“gonna be gone for a bit, see ya tomorrow?” he waves them off, and goes out the door before they could reply, or ask anymore questions.

he knows he said he would be at your place by 10 minutes, but he ends up arriving in 5 minutes. quickly at your door step, knocking on the door gently.

just as he predicted, you open the door almost immediately.

when he looks at you, he swears he could break down then and there. on your door step.

your eyes are puffy, you’re wearing his hoodie that he “accidentally” left at your home, and there were dried tear stains on your puffy cheeks.

he wanted to kiss your cheeks badly, and cradle you in his arms. but he resisted.

thats before you crash into his arms, immediately breaking down. hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.

toji breaks, he can’t handle the cold act around you any longer.

“y/n? what’s wrong baby? speak to me..” toji coo’s, his harsh tone disappeared. you automatically feel comfort from his nice tone, something you missed.

there he is, the sweet older boyfriend you have always missed. the man who was your home, your protector, your everything.

“‘missed you s’much toji. miss being with you and megumi, i-i can’t sleep without thinking about how i could’ve been better for you.” you stutter repeatedly.

it was no lie that megumi missed you as well. the boy who is only 3 years old can not go a night without asking where you were, if you were coming back to him without breaking down. because you made the little boy feel loved.

toji’s heart breaks, now he notices how selfish he has been. yes he was protecting you, but he also broke you so much. regret seeps into his body, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.

“‘s not your fault sweets, you were more than enough for me. c’mon, let’s go to bed.” he murmurs, picking you up bridal style and walks towards your bedroom. the door behind him shutting closed.

the photo of you both happily together was still on your night stand, toji’s heart breaks for the millionth time in the past hour.

his side of the bed was cold, as if you never slept on it. that’s because it felt wrong sleeping on that side, knowing it once belonged to him.

you continue crying as you’re placed on the bed, still in toji arms. he’s careful with you, placing kisses on your face and rubbing your body to give you his heat.

“i-i miss you.. s’much.” you repeat, looking up at him for the first time with clear sight. tears drying back on your cheeks.

he gives you a sad smile and kisses both of your cheeks, sticky with tears.

“i miss you more sweetheart, missed my little girl s’much.. ‘l’ll explain everythin to you tomorrow, kay?” he questions, caressing your cold cheek.

the smile you give him is sad, but could easily melt the coldness in his heart.

after you nod he places a kiss on your lips, before pulling you closer, your head on his chest while is head is rested on top of yours.

the night goes by, and your soft snores fill the room. toji’s eyes are still glued onto the photo of you both, looking so happy, so dumb and in love.

he is gonna make that happen again, only for you. he’d figure out everything else soon, his priority was now you.

“i love you, missed you more than anything. baby.” he whispers quietly, placing one last kiss to your temple before drifting off to sleep.

for the first time in months he is able to sleep with no bad feelings, or any nightmares.

that is because you’re by his side, by his side to push away all the bad thoughts. by his side to make him feel loved again.

Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist

part 2 - back in love !

a/n: don’t mind typos pls, it’s like 3:47 am😭😭

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sturnslcver · 1 month

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enemy! chris where he absolutely breaks down reader to where she has no motivation to do anything anymore and he notices n begins to feel bad

ੈ✩‧₊˚ expiated favours ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, fluff, blurb, crying

you shot chris a fond smile, proud of the meal you’d just prepared for him. you gently set it on the edge of his desk. he didn’t bother looking away from the screen occupying him as you cracked open a can of pepsi. “here” you muttered quietly, scooting it toward him. you lingered beside him for a split second hoping he might acknowledge or thank you. he didn’t. you gently shut the door on your way out to the living room.

almost immediately after you’d plopped down on the couch, chris had emerged from his room. “you didn’t put enough ice” he grumbled. “sorry” you shrugged. he slammed his glass against the counter. “so are you gonna get the ice?” you glanced at him and exhaled a long breath before lifting yourself back to your feet to fulfill his request. he took a long sip, smacking his lips together. “better” he replied, heading back towards his room. he paused before continuing. “oh, start my clothes in the washer too. i forgot.” you scooped up the laundry basket and followed behind him to his room, dragging all the clothes from the floor and tossing them up into the basket.

your feet shuffled across the hallway back to the laundry closet. you were separating the color’s and whites when nick surfaced from his room. you delicately grasped his arm, gazing up at him. “can you finish this for me? i need to lay down.” nick obliged, of course seeing the black circles under your eye. you clawed at your hair, eager to finally get into some comfy clothes and hopefully get some sleep.

you were settled on your side, in bed facing the wall. just as you were nodding off, your door loudly unlatched. “did you finish my clothes?” you didn’t retort, your back still facing him. “you used a different detergent this time. i don’t like it.” he held up his shirt, inhaling the latest scent. “are you even listening?” he questioned. you reached for the nearest pillow, placing it directly onto your head. “i asked nick to finish the load.” he squinted his eyes as if it might help the noise coming from the pillow sound any less muffled.

you shot up and turned to face chris. “you know i don’t have to do these things for you. i just do it because i want too. i like doing things for you and you don’t show any appreciation or gratitude towards anything i do for you.” you voice gradually softened as you felt a lump forming in your throat. you hid your face in your hands and began to weep. “i’m tired, chris. i’m trying my best and it’s never enough.” you felt the bed sink in a little, peeking through your fingers. chris had his knee eased into the edge of the bed right beside you. he brought his hands up, drawing yours away from your face. he placed his hands lightly against your cheeks and used his thumbs to gingerly rub away your tears. he surveyed your glassy eyes for a moment, placing one of his hands on the back of your head and pulling you against his chest faintly. he clutched you into a warm embrace.

hesitating momentarily, you brought your arms around his back, rubbing up and down repeatedly, reciprocating his affection. your fingers trickled along chris’ spine. his chin lazed on top of your head. “don’t cry. i’m sorry. i do appreciate you and everything you do for me and it’s my fault for not making it more known to you.”he placed both of his hands to the side of your head and planted a soft kiss to your forehead. “how about you let me finally appreciate you, hm? ” “how?” you chuckled eagerly.

chris raised your legs back onto the bed and signaled you to rest your back up against the headboard. he climbed up onto the bed and slid toward the bottom, placing your feet in his lap. he reverently placed a warm kiss to your ankle and began to massage your foot. “feels nice” you beam up at him. he hummed contently. the both of you exchanged a playful glance and laughed. “just tell me when to stop” chris cooed.

— a/n: i wasn’t sure how to go about the whole enemy thing because i couldn’t come up with a creative enemy backstory or a decent reason as to why they would be “enemies” also this is pretty short but i hope u still enjoy!! pls keep submitting things guys :)

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apclyptc · 7 months

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GOOD MORNING— chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis— you wake up with a sleepy chris. he’s wide awake when he sees you, though.

warnings— smutty smutty smut, making out, riding, unprotected sex (don’t worry ur on the pill…). enjoy!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you open your eyes to the familiar sight of chris’ room. ever since you began your relationship, you found yourself spending most of your time there, and that was mostly due to the fact that chris wanted to spend all his time with you– and his family of course.

for someone who never wanted a relationship, he sure was clingy once he started dating you.

you and chris had been dating for four months, though you had known each other much longer than that.

you slowly blinked your eyes to get used to the soft light filtering through the blinds in your boyfriend’s room. checking your phone, it read 8:42am.

quite early for you, and for chris as well, who was lightly snoring next to you.

you took a moment to look at his face. he was so peaceful when he was asleep, much opposite to his usual energetic self.

you placed a kiss on his forehead, and he stirred slightly as he opened his eyes hesitantly. he was a light sleeper when you were with him.

“mm, what time is it?” chris spoke groggily, his morning voice low and raspy.

“it’s almost nine.” you answered simply, stretching a little while chris placed a hand on the small of your back. he pulled you in closer, his head finding purchase in the crook of your neck.

“‘s too early, baby.”

you sighed into him, getting comfortable, knowing he wasn’t a morning person.

“i know. you wanna go back to sleep?” you asked him, softly playing with his hair.

“mmm. i’m awake. if i sleep now i won’t wake up until after lunch.” he replied, yawning for most of it.

you hummed contently.

then, you felt something.

with his dick pressed against you, you could feel it poking your stomach.

“well, something’s definitely awake.” you joked, pulling him away from your shoulder to see him lazily smirking at you.

“not my fault my girlfriend is so pretty in the morning.” he brought his face in closer to yours, closing the gap with a soft kiss.

you returned the action, kissing him back.

“you gonna help me out since you woke me up? or should i do it myself?” chris spoke, taking your hand and placing it over his crotch.

you took his words as an invitation, lifting yourself into him.

you continued the kiss, making out with him slowly while you grinded on him at a tortuous pace.

he moaned quietly into your mouth, using his hands that were stationed at your waist to press you down onto his hardening dick.

taking control, chris pushed his tongue over yours, winning the unspoken battle between his and yours.

you could feel yourself growing more desperate by the second, so you reached your hand under his shorts. you pulled out his fully hard dick and spread the precum dripping out over his tip.

chris sighed shakily. you always knew exactly what to do to make his whole body feel weak.

you dragged your hand up and down, watching his eyes shut and his head fall back in pleasure.

“baby, need to feel you.” he groaned, his hand squeezing your thigh.

you pulled the shirt you were wearing— his shirt, of course— over your head and dumped it behind you.

immediately chris’ eyes were drawn to your tits, and his other hand reaching upwards to knead one in his hand.

“these pretty tits, and they’re all mine.” he watched you align yourself over his weeping cock.

you both sighed as you sank down, taking in every inch of him, until he was fully buried inside of you, causing you to moan.

“fuck…” chris groaned, waiting for you to move.

then, you lifted yourself slightly, before slamming back down. again, and again, and again until you reached a comfortable pace.

you panted heavily, feeling his dick pulsate inside of you.

“taking me so well, baby.” he praised you, both hands gripping your sides tightly as you rode him.

“can’t, keep, going.” you moaned between words, losing your stamina quickly from bouncing on his hard cock.

chris took it has his chance to thrust up into you, setting a faster pace.

“your pussy was made for me to fuck, huh?” he breathed as he fucked you from beneath you.

chris felt your hole throb around him, driving him crazy with every pulse.

“chris, ‘m gonna cum, baby.” your eyes rolled back in sheer bliss, his dick deliciously hitting your cervix.

“yeah? cum then,” chris felt his cock twitch, a telltale sign he was close too, “gonna cum with you.”

a few more thrusts and you were spasming over him, letting yourself orgasm as he continued.

your needy moans inside his ears pushed him to his release, filling you up with spurts of his load.

he let out a final moan, burying his dick impossibly further into you to allow his cum to coat your walls.

with a sigh, you collapsed on top of him.

“fuck.” you breathed, and he chuckled.

“i thought we just did?” he smirked despite the fact you couldn’t see him, but even so, you could hear it in his voice.

“shut up.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n: hope u enjoyed! now that this one is finished i can start answering requests! if you have any please leave them in my asks and i will get to them asap!

#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo smut

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macfrog · 11 months

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bloodstream cowboy like me chapter seven

part seven of cowboy like me 🤠 feel free to grab parts i-vi (and more!) over on my masterlist for all ur joel miller needs. can you tell i had my period when i wrote this...? it's just a big ol' hormonal, needy MESS please don't take it seriously you'll ruin my street cred as a cynic

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: you’re on your period and want attention, kisses, and pain medicine from joel. that’s all

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) a whole lotta fluff. like, sickly sweet fluff. mention of periods/cramps/blood, one tiny mention of pregnancy, put mdni since there are mentions of sex & sexual themes but no actual sex, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), bit of cursing, and a pop-tart is destroyed :( rip lil guy

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

In an instant, you want to grind into him, drag your hips along the fabric of his boxers, push him. Rile him up. Make him pine. Make him beg. What the fuck would you even do, anyway? Sex? It’s not like that’s your easiest option right now – definitely not a tidy one. But it doesn’t stop you from picturing it, now that you brought it up. Is Joel picturing it, too? He’s tracing every inch of your face with his stare, soft, but knowing. He knows exactly what’s going through your fucking mind. The way his boxers start to swell against the inside of your thigh gives it away that it’s running through his, too.

It’s been a week since you slept with Joel for the first time. Realistically, waking up in a foul mood to cramps should’ve been some sort of tiny celebration. Yay, I’m not pregnant. But the ache in your tummy, the weight of your limbs as you heave yourself around the house, the sobbing at any minor inconvenience, doesn’t feel so much like a celebration as it does a punishment.

You’d dragged yourself from bed, clutching your belly, and hobbled downstairs. Your dad left for work a couple hours ago; the slam of the front door woke you. Does he always have to be so fucking loud? You’d struggled to get back to sleep, knees tucked under your chin.

You take a blanket from the couch and wrap it around your shoulders, bunching it up at your belly to soothe the pain, and begin raking the cupboards for food. For crappy, sugary, junk food.

When you turn toward the toaster and bump your hip into the corner of the kitchen island, sending the Pop-Tart in your hand tumbling to the ground, you burst into tears and dial his number.

He answers on the second ring.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he coos in response to your wailing.

“Joel, I– my fuckin’ Pop-Tart just flew out of my hand!”

He’s quiet for a beat. “Your– Say that again, baby?”

What you respond with isn’t even intelligible. You know it. It only makes you sob more. Well, that, and looking down at the crumbled pastry on your kitchen floor.

Joel spends the next five minutes calming you down, shushing down the line and trying to get you to speak in plain English. Eventually, you take a deep breath and speak clearly between gasps.

“I – am on – my period. I – got – my – period.”

“Ah,” he muses. “That makes a lot more sense, kid.”

You burst into tears again.

“Hey, hey,” he’s laughing now, “no, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay. Look, I got a free house today – Sarah’s out all day. I ain’t workin’, either. How about you jump in the car and come over? We can lay in bed all day and I can make you feel better. How’s that sound?”

You sniff and mumble a quiet, “Good”.

Joel tells you to head on over once you’re ready. You throw a sweatshirt over your shoulders, slip into comfortable shoes, and get straight into the car. When you pull up outside, he’s already standing at the front door.

Just the sight of him makes you weep. Leaning against the porch post, one hand hooked around his belt. You get out, hunched over with the pain below your belly button, and waddle over to him.

“C’mere, sweet girl,” he whispers as he wraps an arm around you, basically pulling you up the steps to him. “Gonna get you nice and comfortable, okay?”

You lean into his chest and he kisses your head, closing the door softly behind you.

“Upstairs,” he instructs.

You silently obey and make for his bedroom, shuffling your feet along the carpet. When Joel enters the room a few minutes after you, you’re buried in the middle of his bed amongst a sea of pillows and blankets.

“Feelin’ alright?”

“Ish.”

He has a mug of tea in one hand, a box of pain meds in the other, and a hot pack draped over his arm. He sets the tea down on your nightstand, hands you the hot pack (which you immediately lay across your stomach), and offers you the pain meds.

“Water?” you ask, looking up at him with a petted lip.

“I brought tea.” He nods at the mug.

“I can’t take pills with hot tea,” you whisper.

He gives you an affectionate smile and shakes his head. “You’re lucky I care about you s’much.” He leaves the room, calling back, “Put those puppy-dog eyes away!”

You smile smugly to yourself and shimmy deeper into Joel’s pillows. He returns moments later with a glass of water.

“Your highness,” he grumbles as he sets it down for you. Then he pulls a small blue packet from under his elbow.

“Don’t have much round here, bein’ on my own mosta the time,” he admits, sliding it onto the nightstand, “found these in Sarah’s bathroom. They do?”

You smile, eyes scanning over the Always logo. “They’re great.”

The edges of Joel’s mouth lift, proud, like he reckons he’s outdone himself.

You gulp a couple of painkillers down and settle back into bed, heat pad already working its magic.

Joel lifts his side of the comforter up to climb in beside you, but you stretch an arm out.

“Uh-uh.”

“Huh?”

“Not in your jeans. Are we animals?”

He peers down at himself. “The hell am I s’posed to wear?”

“You don’t have sweatpants?”

“I’m supposed to change into my sweatpants just to cuddle?”

“Who the hell lounges around the house on their day off in jeans, anyway, weirdo?”

He clicks his teeth. “You’re talkin’ awful big for someone meant to be in pain, y’know,” he huffs as he unbuttons his jeans and hauls them down his legs. “T-shirt okay?”

“T-shirt’s fine.”

In just his tee, boxers and socks, he climbs in alongside you, snakes his arms around you, and slots his thigh between yours the way he always does. It calms you instantly: his warmth, the sound of his heart beating into your ear, his chest rising and falling with his breathing.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Joel mumbles into your hair.

“Mhm,” you reply, feeling yourself dropping off. “Sleepy.”

He runs a hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and up your bare back, rubbing circles gently where the pain is. You’re asleep within minutes.

----------

You stir to the distant sound of voices. Still enveloped in Joel’s arms, you flutter your eyes open slowly, and look up to his face, lit blue by the TV. He’s watching ESPN.

His eyes dance along the screen, following the players running. His beard, thick, dark, gray and white spotted along his chin, disturbed as he runs his fingers through it. His skin, marked by the sun, by time, by fine lines and dimples at the corners of his mouth.

The Joel you’ve known your whole life – grumbling, head dipped, brows close together; his rough hands and his worn jeans, his awkward squeezes in place of hugs…he doesn’t exist anymore. He’s replaced by this new Joel: kind, warm, approachable. Like you can finally see him, finally get to know him.

The Joel who doesn’t think twice about taking you in his arms, isn’t concerned with how you’ll react. Just knows you’ll fall into him any which way his hands touch you. The Joel who can have you bent double under him, panting his name, and the same Joel who can lull you to sleep with nothing but his scent and his thumb drawing lazy circles on your skin.

The Joel who makes you want to call him your Joel, like he’s made only for you. He does these things only for you. He’s different for you.

Suddenly you feel shy. Realizing that this is the first time he’s seen you like this – vulnerable, in pain. Hurting. And then realizing that he didn’t miss a beat; just swept you up in his arms and bundled you into his bed. Made you comfortable. Made you safe.

You swallow your heart back into your chest. For a second, you almost felt…something. A shift. Something new. A problem arising.

Joel glances down, notices you watching him, and mutes the anchors’ voices.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, giving you a little squeeze. “Better?”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

“I was gonna order a pizza, if you wanted.”

He reads your mind again. Just the thought of a fatty, greasy slab of dough with fatty, greasy cheese all over it is enough to make you salivate.

“Pizza sounds good.”

Joel, wanting to stay near you, and also not wanting to have to get up, picks up his phone and orders it from bed. You sigh as he pulls you back in and sinks lower into the pillows, turning the volume up.

You snuggle your head into the crook of his neck, where it fits perfectly. Made for you. Joel’s arm cradles around your back, sneaking under the bottom of your sweatshirt to hold your hip, keeping your body pressed against his. Your fingers trace shapes on his shirt, lids closing over with each blink.

Out of every sport in America, baseball is the one you’re interested in the least. Growing up with a diehard Rangers fan for a father will do that to you. Every week: Rangers game. Every conversation he had with Joel: Rangers. Every time the TV was switched on: Rangers talk.

You learned to tune it out when he’d rant over dinner, either to you, or into his phone, or to Joel. You’d sit back in your chair and count the crows resting on Marcia’s rooftop. Couple times Joel would kick your leg under the table and ask how school was goin’, when you’re flying back, but as soon as your answer was done your dad would steer the conversation back to baseball.

It bored you at best. Mostly it just made you huff and turn on your heel, back the way you came. Dodging Rangers talk like it was a bad smell.

This time, you doze in and out of sleep, relaxing with the rise and fall of Joel’s chest, his fingers playing with yours. The anchors push you off, then wake you back up with their raised voices as they disagree on some play, some team, some result.

You could lie here forever and never complain. Well, maybe not forever. You care about Joel a lot, but even you have your limits.

You nudge him with your head.

“Yep?”

“Who’s the dude in the blue polo?”

“That’s a coach.”

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Not my type.”

“Are we gonna watch ESPN all day?”

Joel hands you the remote. “Take your pick, darlin’.”

You begin surfing through the channels, eyes scanning for something to take your mind off the pain slowly returning between your legs. You’re barely two pages through when the doorbell rings.

Joel softly slides out from underneath you and throws his jeans on, heading downstairs where you hear him thank the delivery guy, hand him the money, and shut the door again.

“You still good with your water, or you want soda?” he calls upstairs.

“Soda, please!”

He brings up a bottle for you to share. You pull yourself up to rest against the headboard, and Joel sits the pizza between you two.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” he whispers, looking up at the TV.

“Nope!” you reply, mouth full of delicious pepperoni pizza.

“Grey’s Anatomy?”

“You ain’t seen it?”

He hands you a look. Do I look like the type of guy who’s seen Grey’s Anatomy?

You giggle. “Alright, so: Meredith was datin’ this dude Derek – surgeon at the hospital, he’s so hot–” Joel raises his eyebrows, “…but he wouldn’t tell her a thing about his past. Then, she’s waitin’ for him in the lobby,” you take another bite of pizza, “and thish woman walksh over to ‘em,” gulp, “and says she’s Derek’s wife!”

He’s hanging on to every word you say, not ‘cause he actually gives a crap about Meredith and Derek, but because you do. He’s lying propped up on his elbow, watching you with doting eyes as you catch him up on the storyline of the show, smirk slowly growing on his lips.

“You gonna eat the pizza?”

You snap him out of his daydream. “Huh?”

“You ain’t touched it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, taking a slice. “Was just listenin’ to you.”

You tuck your chin into your shoulder and he gives your cheek a gentle squeeze, then you both turn your attention to the TV.

You spend the next couple of hours pausing the show to catch Joel up – “So Meredith ain’t into this George?” “No, he’s just a friend.” “But he loves her?” “Yep.” “And they slept together?” “Uhuh.” “That’s…complicated.” – and chatting over the more boring parts.

You’re only a couple episodes in when you finish the pizza. Joel lets you have the last slice, “Seein’ as you’re my little invalid for the day,” he says. He’d have given you the last slice whether you were ill or not, though, and you know it.

When Joel gets up to take the empty box downstairs, you slip out from under the covers to the bathroom. You sit down, underwear between your legs, and freeze.

Fuck.

Your sanitary pad is soaked through, scarlet with blood, the lining of your underwear the color of rust. You run your thumb along the fabric; it’s still damp. Lifting your top, you notice similar stains on the insides of your thighs, at the very top.

Fuuuck.

“You okay, baby?” Joel’s voice calls from the other side of the door.

“I’m…Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Joel?”

“Uhuh?”

“Could you hand me that pack of sanitary pads?”

He mumbles Sure, his shadow retreats, then the door inches open and his wrist sneaks through the gap, holding the pads out. You take it sheepishly and begin to peel the pad from your underwear, stopping when it reveals more blood stained into the fabric, this time a brighter red. Fresher. You groan, shutting your eyes and tapping the packet against your forehead.

“You sure you’re alright?” Joel asks again, this time from further away.

You’re almost doubled over on the toilet, pain back in full-throttle, voice muffled by the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “I’m fine,” you croak.

The door slowly falls open and Joel’s figure stands in the slit of light. “Kid,” he beckons, and you look up. His expression is normal, if a little concerned; but he doesn’t seem embarrassed to ask, “You need a change of underwear?”

Your face flushes and you wince, your head dropping into your hands, elbows resting on your knees. “It’s on the bed, isn’t it?”

“Might be, yeah. Sarah’ll have somethin’, sure she wouldn’t mind if you…you know…”

“Ugh,” you sigh, still keeping your face from him.

Your period was never something you cared about, even growing up with just your dad. When you got your first one at twelve, he went out and stocked the bathroom with what you needed. Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, hell, half the population deal with it. That’s what he’d said.

And you agreed. It’s just your body doing what it does, right?

Still, you can’t ignore the heat on your cheeks from the embarrassment of the guy you’re sleeping with seeing you hunched over on his toilet, underwear stained with blood, the same stain on his bedsheets. It’s just not your finest hour.

But Joel doesn’t seem to agree.

Not when he sets foot in the bathroom and crouches by your side, placing a kiss to your temple.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He looks offended; his head jerks back to survey you. “The hell you sorry for? You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. Look,” his hand settles on your thigh, rubbing gently, “go find somethin’ to change into in Sarah’s room, get yourself cleaned up, I’ll change the bed. You’re fine.”

“’s not really romantic, is it?”

“I didn’t ask you to come here to be romantic,” he holds your head, “I asked you here to take care of you. Now go.”

He helps you to your feet and you wander off down the hall toward Sarah’s room. You guys grew up together, you’re close enough that she’d probably slap your arm for even asking to borrow her clothes, especially when you need it most right now.

Still, you whisper an apology as you rake through her closet, and make a mental note to be extra nice to her next time you see her.

Once you’ve changed, feeling a lot better, you slip back into Joel’s room where he’s fixing up the clean bedsheets.

“Done?”

You nod, and he takes your underwear from your hands and tosses it onto the pile of sheets by his laundry basket. See? No big deal. He takes your bicep and wraps his arms around you, nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in.

You lift your chin and look up at him, a gleam in your eye. Thank you. He furrows his brows and gives his head a quick shake. No need to thank me.

Joel motions for you to get back into bed, where he lays back and holds his arms out for you to relax on his chest again, but you’re staring at his lips. You lean in and kiss him softly, the only thing you can think to offer him after taking care of you and being so sweet all day.

He returns it, one hand coming up to the back of your head, the other finding home on your hip. You roll back and pull his weight over your body, linking your arms behind his neck. Your thighs close around his waist and his hand runs down your bare leg.

The kiss deepens, both of you coming up for air, just to immediately fall back into one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other’s mouths.

As Joel’s hands explore the skin under your top, massaging and rubbing across your stomach, you begin to worry.

In your experience, kissing always leads to more. You’ve never been with a guy who doesn’t expect sex whenever you lay a hand on him. This feels so good, though, and you don’t want it to stop.

Still, you pull back and quickly whisper, “We can’t…you know.”

“I know. We won’t.” Joel is matter-of-fact. This ain’t a thing to him.

“I mean, we can. People do that – it’s supposed to feel better, or something? I think it helps with the cramps. I’ve never done it before, though.” You’re talking too quick, saying too much. Joel’s just watching you, letting you go on, smiling at you.

“Baby. We won’t.”

Your tongue knots. “We won’t?”

He breathes a laugh. “No, we’re just kissing. We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want. Just tryna make you feel better.”

“I’m not sayin’ I don’t wanna, I always wanna– Well, you know. I like it when we do it. I’m just saying it can get messy, you know?”

He’s grinning at you again. That fucking grin. That You’re being adorable right now grin that makes your heart skip.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Joel reassures you when he lowers his head again and his lips find yours.

Your head tilts as you allow him access to your neck; his favorite place to leave marks. To show everyone, whether they know it or not, that you’re his. You fold, head rolling back onto the pillow as he bites a bruise into your sensitive skin.

Joel pulls away, releasing your neck from between his teeth, and you stare at each other a moment.

Something flickers across his eyes; his jaw jerks as if he’s about to open his mouth and speak. As quickly as you notice it, it disappears. He stops himself.

You run a finger along his bottom lip, and he kisses it lightly.

Between your legs, your center pressed to his, he twitches. Sparks to life. Same thing that sparks in you, though you don’t know where to put it. You don’t know how to undo it.

In an instant, you want to grind into him, drag your hips along the fabric of his boxers, push him. Rile him up. Make him pine. Make him beg.

What the fuck would you even do, anyway? Sex? It’s not like that’s your easiest option right now – definitely not a tidy one. But it doesn’t stop you from picturing it, now that you brought it up. Is Joel picturing it, too?

He’s tracing every inch of your face with his stare, soft, but knowing. He knows exactly what’s going through your fucking mind. The way his boxers start to swell against the inside of your thigh gives it away that it’s running through his, too.

And then his ringtone breaks apart the moment.

“Sorry, kid,” he groans, leaning over to retrieve it. “Hello?”

You recognize your dad’s voice instantly. He has no volume control where phone calls are concerned.

“Joel, you seen my daughter? I got home and she wasn’t here, and I can’t get a hold of ‘er.”

You scramble to find your phone amongst the bedsheets. When your hands find it, you hold it up to show Joel eight missed calls over the course of the five hours you’ve spent here. He scrunches up his nose in response.

“I ain’t seen her. I’ll try callin’ her, she’s probably just out and about.”

“Thanks, bud. She won’t have gone far, just she usually has her cell on her.”

Joel promises to call you before hanging up, and you sit back, slowly closing your eyes with a sigh.

“Now.” Joel leans into you, resting his head against yours. “I’m gonna call you, and you’re either not gonna answer – ‘cause you ain’t been answerin’ your dad – and he’s gonna worry more; or, you will answer me, I’ll call ‘im back, and he’ll wonder why you been ignorin’ him. Or…” He trails off.

“…Or, I go home and act like I ain’t seen his calls, tell him I’m sorry, and he’s none the wiser.”

“Hm.” He nods once, lips folded inward.

“I don’t wanna go,” you whimper, sliding down the headboard and resting your head against Joel’s shoulder.

“I know, darlin’. But we had our fun.” He takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I hope I made you feel better.”

“You did,” you whisper back. In more ways than one; sure, he fed you painkillers and rubbed where you were hurting, but that isn’t all there is to it, right?

The last time you saw each other, he had you propped on the kitchen counter, legs spread, begging for him to let you cum. Today feels as much about making you feel better because of that, as it does making you feel better because of your period. Today feels like Joel telling you he cares about you past the orgasms y’all give each other.

Message received. Even though it makes you dizzy when you think too much about it.

Joel takes your hand and places a kiss to it.

“Hey,” he mumbles against your knuckles, “me ‘n your dad are going to Costco on Saturday to get stuff for this…garden party Sarah’s wantin’. You wanna come?”

“Will you hold my hand and kiss me when I want again?”

He breathes a laugh. “I will when your dad ain’t lookin’.”

“I’m in.”

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt @huffle-punk @unbotheredbeeeee @iluvurfather @wildcat116 @godisawomansblog @55vvaa55 @koshkaj-blog @initforthebooks @theywhowriteandknowthings @thatgirljayy@sasakipsposts @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @aim-formyheart @taeslarityy @lxstbxyscave23 @joelmillerxapologist @capt-rex @giixo @capricorngf @feministfanboi @fifia-writes @darleneslane @theplumsoldier @sharp-cheekbones-locked @suzmagine @endlessthxxghts @ivebeenflagged @blognametakenn @jessahmewren @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel tlou #cowboy like me

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reneeluv154 · 6 months

Text

Frostbite

Hope you enjoy🤍🤍🤍

In this imagine Newt finds out you have frostbite and takes care of you.

(More on my profile if you like this.)🫶🏼🫶🏼

I was cold, so cold but I wouldn’t let the others know, we had been walking in the scorch for weeks, although I wouldn’t call it the scorch anymore. It was cold, cold enough to make your lips blue and your skin crack and bleed. Newt tried to offer me his gloves when it first started getting cold two days ago but I denied them, instead wrapping them up in my sock’s.

Now the sock’s were just to hide my gruesome frostbite rather than keep them warm. “Guys, let’s stop here, we’ve been waking for far too long.” I couldn’t agree with Minho more, the blisters on the back of my heels and my toes making it to where I could barely walk.

“Y/n are you okay?” Thomas asked wearily before watching me stumble to the ground. “Woah hey.” Thomas tried to catch me but I hit the ground with him and Newt on either side of me. I began to weep which then turned into sob’s of anger. I punched the ground, “I’m fucking done! Do you hear me!” I screamed out as loud as I could, causing a vicious pain to shoot through my head. Everyone was crouched down forming a circle around me, fear and worry plastered on their faces.

“Hey, take a breath Y/n.” Newt was calm with a comforting hand on my back, the other on the sand, trying to keep from slipping. I violently sucked in air never fully finishing a breath. I truly couldn’t breathe. I looked at him with panic in my eyes as I tried to breathe, tears still rolling down my cheeks. “Okay, everyone back up.” His voice was stern enough so they understood but calm enough to not scare me. He gently grabbed my face.

“You’re gonna be okay. Focus on my heartbeat alright?” He grabbed my hand, placing it on his chest gently, leaving me to feel the calm, steady beating of his heart. After a few minutes, my breathing slowed, and my tears were gently wiped by his simple calloused hands. “You're okay.” He whispered, bringing me into a tight hug. I believe more for him than for me. He knew I never liked hugs. Although I had always wanted one from him, I hugged him back knowing that’s what he needed at the moment. I didn’t want to let go but loosened my grip leaving him to let go.

“Thomas, help me walk her over to that building.” He nodded over to what was more like a small shack a few feet away. So with Thomas on my left and Newt on my right we carefully walked over to the shack, taking a few minutes to settle down. I sat on a small crate while the others cleared spots to sit and sleep for the night. I was staring at the ground when Newt came, sitting down beside me, offering me a cup with something in it. Not bothering to zone back in, I shook my head.

“It’ll warm you up.” He said, setting it by my foot on the ground and kneeling in front of me. “Can you take these off for me?” He asked gently, laying a hand on top of mine. I finally zoned back in still not looking directly at him but carefully taking the socks off my hands trying not to let the fabric pull on the cracked skin.

His eyes widened when he saw the purple and blue, bloody knuckles and fingertips. ‘Fry, can you make a fire real quick?” He asked, not taking his focus off of my hands. “Already on it, Newt.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone Y/n?” He asked gently, trying to warm my hands with his own as well as blowing on them.”I don’t know.” I was quiet, barely even audible. “My feet are pretty bad too.” The look he gave me was the sweetest yet saddest thing I had ever seen. “They don’t have frostbite, just lots of blisters.” He nodded. “Go ahead and take your shoes off, the cold should make them feel a little better.”

I nodded, taking my shoes off while he went and grabbed a thin blanket we had stolen from W.I.C.K.E.D. wrapping it around my shoulders. He was right, the cold felt good on my hot blistered feet. “Here, let’s go sit by the fire.” He handed me the hot cup making my hands sting but I knew that meant it was helping. I was caught slightly off guard when he picked me up and carried me to another crate, this one close by the fire, my feet still being cooled off by the patch of cement underneath me.

I decided to sit on the ground closer to the fire. Newt came and sat on the crate behind me, his legs on either side of me. “Newt?” I asked and received a small hum while he set down his cup which I learned was just hot water, and started to play with some strands of my hair. “Is it okay if I just give up?”

“Give up?” He questioned. “Yeah, If I just quit trying to make it out alive.” I was ashamed of asking such a question but I knew he wouldn’t judge me. He grabbed both my shoulders leaning in close to my ear. “Y/n you can not give up, I won’t for one second let you believe that you can give up because I would never let you do such a thing.” And for the first time in a long time, a small smile made its way onto my lips. It felt so good to smile, especially with someone like Newt.

Around an hour later he had braided my hair and wrapped up my hands now everyone was getting ready for sleep. “Where are you sleeping, love?” He hadn’t called me that since the first time I came to the glade but it made me feel special.

“Can I…sleep next to you tonight?” He nodded, “Of course, c’mon.” He laid out some clothes on the ground and used a jacket as a pillow. “Go on, I'll tuck you in.” He smiled, so I laid down letting him lay two blankets overtop of me, given that was all we could spare. He then laid down, a small bit of space between us. “Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Blondie.”

I woke up a tad bit cold and a bit scared. There was thunder and rain all around us. The small shack was the only thing keeping us safe and that wasn’t promising. I moved over to where Newt was lying and rested my head on his shoulder, he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his voice still sleepy making me blush. “Yeah, I’m a little cold but more scared than anything.” Just then lightning struck close making me jump. “Shhh it’s okay. I’m here, I’ll keep you safe I promise.” He rubbed my back and gave me a small kiss on the head now wrapping both arms tightly around me. Humming a small song, which soon put me to sleep.

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nohoney · 7 months

Note

bae now you're LEGALLY required to write something about c&c touya and reader taking care of their newborn. my heart ACHES

legally required you say (￢‿￢ )

Touya remembers the days of rolling out of bed from being out late at night, his body still exhausted and his head pounding with a hangover, needing more sleep, needing food in his stomach, and needing coffee and a smoke after a tiring night.

He’d go out to the balcony, light up a cigarette and inhale nicotine in between sips warm coffee.

The pairing he still believes is the best and can’t be topped.

He still drinks coffee but he’s given up the smoking, and instead of looking out at the balcony, now he looks out into the small backyard of the house you and him bought together. His body is exhausted after the long nights he’s had, but instead of being disgruntled by it, Touya holds no resentment.

Not with his newborn son being the reason why he’s tired.

“What’s with the face? You grumpy, hm? Got a bad attitude in the morning just like your mum?” Touya speaks to his son in his arms, fascinated with how his baby looks so curious but sometimes scrunching his little face like he doesn’t understand something. “Or maybe you’re making that face because you want her instead?”

Speaking of which, you shuffle out into the living room, pulling your arms through a cardigan and stifling a yawn. “There’s my boys,” you announce with a tired smile, “whatcha doing?”

“Nothing much, I was talking to him about his face. He was looking kinda pissed for a little.” Touya walks away from the sliding doors, carefully transferring his son into your arms and helping you sit down on the couch. His son makes a squirmy little sound but recognizes that he’s with his mother, turning his head when you coo over him.

It makes Touya feel sappy to see this before him, but he knows that once there’s crying or a soiled nappy, the feeling will momentarily leave until the baby is all settled.

“Gonna brew some coffee. You want your tea?” Touya offers and is given a little affirming hum from you, “You want breakfast too?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.”

There’s been very little energy to cook since bringing the baby home. Touya remembers the second day wanting to make eggs but his body was too exhausted from staying up with you as you breastfed your baby in the early hours of the morning and then falling asleep when his son was full. Your mom was right to suggest prepping meals ahead of time and freezing them.

While the coffee brews, Touya is warming a frozen meal into a pot. He smells the coffee in the air and he sighs a little wistfully; he misses the cigarettes. Not even the little vape that he used as a substitute was touched after you reached your third trimester. The routine of stepping outside for a smoke was dearly missed.

He’s got your favorite mug filled with hot tea as he approaches you in the living room, only to find you sniffling and weeping a little. He was told that baby blues are normal and has been keeping vigilant whenever you have these moments.

“Doll? What’s wrong?” He asks you gently, putting the cup on a coaster first. Three days after bringing the baby home, you had burst into tears when Touya had put your cup of water down on the coffee table without a coaster, unreasonably lamenting about water rings on the wood.

You wipe at your tears and sniffle first, letting out an embarrassed laugh before telling him, “I don’t know. I told you I was hungry and then all of a sudden I felt like I wasn’t hungry, but I could already hear you warming up the food in the kitchen. And then I just started spiraling about how I was wasting your time making breakfast that I’m not even sure I wanted anymore.”

He leans over to kiss your forehead, murmuring that it’s okay but most like you are hungry and that he’ll take the baby so that you could eat in peace.

By the time you’re finished eating, you do feel better and your son starts getting a little squirmy to indicate that it’s his turn. You make yourself comfortable in the armchair and unfasten the strap to your top, sighing when your son latches at your nipple and talking softly as he’s fed. “Hey, no nodding off just yet. Gotta make sure your tummy’s full so that you can sleep.”

It’s been about nine days since the baby has been home, and it almost feels surreal to Touya that almost every conversation you and him have had together centers around the baby boy. Talking about things like the little hairs on his head, how he blinks, the way he seems to recognize Touya’s music when it’s played, and having whole conversations about what’s considered normal inside of a nappy. When your sister and her husband spoke of their own daughter when she was a newborn, Touya couldn’t really understand the fascination that they had.

Now he gets it.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi fluff

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deathbecomesthem · 2 days

Text

Minors DNI - +18 Only

Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader blurb | WC: 600 (Established relationship)

Warnings: PinV smut while both Eddie and Reader are half asleep.

Under the covers and deep in Mr. Sandman’s hold the sweat trickles down your chest. The heat radiates from him in whirls and waves, his energy never fully withheld inside of his thin frame. This man pulls you to him, not only with his arms, but with the spirit of him that surrounds you in this bed. A magnet, the heat is not a bother. You bring yourself closer to the fire of him, not even fully aware of your movements.

Your bodies communicate while your minds rest. Sweaty limbs entangle and the slickness between your legs is calling to him. Even while his mind is still stuck between waking and sleeping, he can smell you, and his cock begins to heat along with the rest of him. It’s wide awake. It’s beginning to ache, and that’s when his hand begins to move on its own. It travels a path from where it rests on your chest down your stomach, and through the forest of curls at your mound. Already his fingers are finding moisture, your sweat and arousal.

“Eddie,” a moan of his name, your voice telling him to please keep going. You bring your hips up to meet his fingers, your body wants them now. They travel too slowly, your own ache is starting to build. A quick pulse of desire shoots like lighting through Eddie and into you.

“Baby, oh baby, I need you.” Strong arms flip you on your side and pull you flush to his sweaty chest. You can feel him dripping onto your back where his cock is pressed against you. “You need me too, I can feel you.”

His fingers are pressed against your pulsing button, and running between your slick lips. You do need him, you’re starving for him. You feel empty and nothing eases the hunger like Eddie. The smell of him, a heady mixture of smoke and his natural musk. In his bed you get drunk on him. Intoxication has turned you malleable in his hands as he twists your hips to bring your weeping heat to his aching length.

Both of you, still one foot in sleep while the other is firmly planted in the bed, move in tandem to connect together. You’re open wide, accepting him deeper than you ever remember feeling him before. That first thrust, as if flint striking stone, sends sparks through your gut and behind your eyelids that are still closed tight. Maybe this is a dream, you think, keep dreaming, keep dreaming.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” a prayer breathed into your hair with each movement of his hips. Each word accentuated with a brush of his head against that spot inside that sends out more sparks, until you feel it, a lick of a flame.

“I’m gonna come,” your voice is unlovely to your ears, a deep groan pushed out of your throat while your head is thrown into Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s ears hear the most beautiful song in your voice, driving him deeper to push out more of that tune, the beautiful melody you sing only for him.

“Me too, Baby.” his mouth peppers the side of your sweat drenched face with kisses, gasoline for your fire. It expands and roars through you. Every muscle tenses, but Eddie holds your firm, driving deeper to ride through the flames and let himself burn inside of you.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x afab!reader

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charliemwrites · 6 months

Note

Could we please have little drabbles for each kept pet for like the moment they first opened their eyes and realised they were in a random bed and house and their keepers coming in and their first conversations?

Hey, sorry for the delay on this one. It’s a bit more complex (which is no problem!) and I really wanted to put some thought into it.

Feral:

You wake up groggy, confused. Warm…? God you’re so heavy, you just want to go back to sleep. Must have been another shitty day at work.

And yet…. You can’t get back to sleep. Something in the back of your mind is tugging at you. Telling you things are off.

Your bed is too comfy, your sheets too soft, your pillow too cool and supportive. Your eyes flutter a few times before you can finally pry them open, head still foggy. There’s movement to your side, you twist your head, halfway through a yawn when you see a blond man sitting at your bedside.

“Mornin’, little one. How are you feeling?”

You gasp roughly, scramble away, out of this strange bed - away from this strange man. Hit the ground and hear him hiss quietly. Scramble back when he stands and starts to round the bed. You need to run but your limbs feel like they belong to someone else. All you can do is press yourself into the corner, wide eyed as he comes closer.

He stops just out of reach and squats down, arms balanced on his knees. He’s huge, you realize with horror. Not just tall and wide, but built.

“Easy now, baby,” he coos and your blood turns to ice. “There was really no way to make that better.”

“Where am I?” you demand, voice rough and shaky. “Who are you?”

“You’re home,” he answers with a little smile, “and I’m Simon. I’m gonna take care of you from now on.

—

(Warning for throw up)

Shy Thing:

The violent twisting of your stomach rips you out of a dead sleep. Once moment you’re asleep, and the next you’re throwing yourself sideways, emptying its contents over the side of… whatever you’ve been lying on. There’s a voice nearby, unfamiliar, though you can’t hear what they’re saying over your own heaving.

God you hate throwing up. Your eyes water as your stomach finally starts to settle, the dizziness invading next and you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Alright, lass, you’re okay. Here.”

You crack an eye open to see a glass of water being offered. Accept it gratefully and sip slowly at the voice’s insistence. While you do, you try to see past a headache-induced haze. You’re in… some kind of living room?

The alarms begin blaring one by one in your head. You don’t know where you are. You don’t remember anything. You don’t know why you feel awful. You don’t know who’s rubbing your back and speaking to you softly.

Slowly, afraid of what you’ll see, you twist to face the stranger. And realize he’s… familiar. But not familiar enough that you can immediately place him.

“There you are, pretty girl. Sorry about that, should have gone with the other sedative.”

The other….

You try to jerk away, but he just thinks you’re gagging again and is quick to support you, pulling your hair back from your face.

“I’m right here, love,” he murmurs, giving you a deceptively gentle squeeze. “And I always will be from now on.”

Quietly, you begin to weep.

—

You groan as you come to, head pounding and eyes feeling dry. A voice is gently speaking nearby, words garbled as your brain comes back online. It takes a moment, but you realize they’re speaking to you, though you don’t recognize who they are.

There’s something around your neck that’s a little itchy. You groan again and reach to pull it away, annoyed. Your fingers meet resistance as it tugs against the back of your neck. You try again - realize it’s not coming off.

Your eyes snap open, an unfamiliar ceiling above you, decorated with fairy lights. Not your room; not your bed. Your eyes slide sideways, to an unfamiliar man sitting at the edge of the bed by your hip.

“Not coming off, love,” he says, “not for a while at least.”

You don’t know what he means until his eyes flick down to your neck. Your fingers feel around it and find a metal plate with something engraved in it. You don’t know what it says, but you know what it is. A name tag. For a collar. You’re wearing a collar.

You spit out a curse and instantly kick at the man, trying to get him away, stun him. It lands, but he does little more than grunt and grab your leg, pinning it. You struggle, kick, flail, shout and scream but he quickly has you pinned and immobile, even as you curse up a storm, white-hot with anger.

“Get it all out now, darling,” he rumbles above you, “because tomorrow I’ll expect better behavior.”

#asks #thoughts™️#my writing #cod #keeper/kept au #fanfiction #keeper ghost #kept pet ghost #reader fic #dark fic #keeper johnny #keeper price

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babygorewhore · 5 months

Text

You’re never too broken

Requested by @girlfuckthatwhore on an upcoming event but I decided to write it early.

Warnings! This is angsty but it’s hurt comfort. COMFORT. Because JJ is a sweet boy and I said so. Talks of abuse! Injury! Your dad sucks in this! Fluff! Friends to something more in the end! This is a blurb so it’s short.

You knocked on JJ’s door. Sniffling and desperately trying to stop your bloody nose. Your dad went ballistic on you. You came up short with promised rent money but your job made you overworked and underpaid.

And when you told you you were two hundred dollars short; he responded with his fist.

It wasn’t the first time he had put his hands on you. But this was the worst. And you came to the door of the only man who understood you.

JJ opened the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and he was shirtless. Once his vision cleared, he gasped and took a momentary step back. He said your name in disbelief and gently grabbed your shoulder.

“Did you walk here?” You nodded. You felt empty. Numb. But you knew a storm was coming with a spew of tears.

“I got you,” JJ pulled you inside and kicked aside a pile of clothes. “Sorry for all this shit.” He guided you to sit on the couch where he slept.

“I don’t want-I mean if your dad-“

“He’s gone. He left a few days ago.” JJ ground out but softened when you lowered your gaze.

He sat next to you and cupped your chin. He clenched his jaw. “I’ll kill that fucker. Shit your nose is bleeding.” He began to move, his temper flaring and you grabbed onto him.

“No, no, please don’t leave me. I’m begging you. I need you to stay with me. I don’t want to go back there.” You started crying, your shoulders shaking and you crumbled. JJ wraps his arms around you, one secure on your waist and the other around your shoulders.

“I got you. You’re safe with me.” JJ pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His own eyes watering, “I get it, baby. I get it better than anyone. But I’m never gonna let him hurt you again.”

JJ grabbed tissues on the side table and gently wiped the blood from your nose. You swiped away tears then flinched from the swelling of your eye.

“He wore rings didn’t he?” JJ growled as he studied your eye more closely. “The son of a bitch.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He went crazy.” You whispered and shrank when his eyes cast over the way you clutched your abdomen.

“Let me see,” JJ shook his head when you started to protest. “It’s okay, I need to see if anything is broken.” He was trying to remain as calm as he could, not wanting to scare you but the fire in his expression alerted you he may snap if he saw.

“JJ, I don’t want you to leave and do something stupid.”

“Don’t worry about me. This is about you. You’re my girl.” He cleared his throat when you looked at him. “You’re my best friend. And I want to take care of you.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt and JJ looked away before staring at the bruises on your ribs and stomach. “Motherfucker.” He hissed as he ever so slightly touched them, assessing for anything broken. “He didn’t break them, but-“

“JJ, please don’t leave. I don’t care, I just need you.” You started begging again.

“Shhh, I won’t leave. I promise.” JJ swallowed. “I’m gonna get you some ice.”

“JJ-I just-“ You whimpered as you shifted. But you stretched your arms out. “Can you please just hold me? All that can wait. But I need you to just hold me.”

JJ immediately swept you in his arms, laying down so you were on his chest. He hated the thought of you being uncomfortable but the way you buried your head in his chest and weeped told him this was more important. He pressed kisses to your head, letting you get it all out. Fucking who knew how many times he cried alone in his room over his shit dad. He’d never let you feel the way he did. Alone. He was in love with you. And had been for so long. And he wouldn’t let this happen again. Not to his favorite girl in the world.

“JJ, I feel like I’m too broken. That he took everything away from me.” You whispered against his neck.

He adjusted himself so he could look you in your red rimmed eyes. “You’re never too broken. Okay? You know that? You’re never too broken for me-I mean.”

“I know.” You gave him the tiniest smile and cupped his jaw. “Can I sleep for a little bit?”

“You can sleep however long you need to. I’ll be here.”

He would always be there for you. And from the way your breathing slowed and your cheek rested on his chest, above his heart, he knew you felt the same way about him.

You felt safe.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @scene-and-dandylover @drewstarkeyslut @emsgoodthinkin @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #JJ Maybank imagine #JJ Maybank angst #JJ Maybank hurt comfort #JJ Maybank one shot #JJ Maybank blurb #JJ OBX #jj obx imagine #OBX hurt comfort #obx fic #obx fanfiction #JJ imagine #JJ hurt comfort #JJ x fem reader #JJ Maybank x fem reader

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ctitan98official · 5 months

Text

Single mom Alcina AU: Drabble #2

Basically a prequel to the first drabble in this AU here! Alcina finds herself pregnant with the girls and her friend, Y/N, becomes her biggest support system. They fall in love during this time and Y/N moves in with her to help around the house.

Alcina and Y/N having lunch together

Y/N: *Happily eating a peanut butter sandwich and watching something on their phone*

Alcina: *Comes barreling into the room with a bag of groceries*

Y/N: *Confused* Everything okay, Al-

Alcina: *Holds her hand up for Y/N to stop talking, starts making a haphazard sandwich with tons of weird ingredients like horseradish and Dorito’s (I don’t know what pregnant people eat lol)*

Y/N: *Shuts their mouth knowing Alcina is in one her moods, turns their attention back to their show*

Alcina: *Almost satisfied with her sandwich, licks her fingers, looks over to Y/N’s plate* What are you eating, Y/N?

Y/N: *Distracted by their show* A peanut butter sandwich…

Alcina: *Inspiration strikes* That sounds delicious. *Walks over to Y/N and snatches the sandwich from them*

Y/N: *Caught off guard* Hey! What are you doing, Alci?

Alcina: Quiet, Y/N! I need to concentrate. *Takes the top off the huge sandwich she made, somehow manages to smush Y/N’s sandwich into it, puts the top back on*

Y/N: *Watching with morbid fascination*

Alcina: *Sits across from Y/N with her monstrosity of a lunch, smashes it down so she can pick it up* So, draga. How has your day been so far?

Y/N: … Um, are we not gonna talk about how you just stole my-

Alcina: *Interrupts them with a withering glare* Y/N, it’s rude not to answer a lady’s questions. I asked you how your day has been. *Takes a huge bite of her sandwich*

Y/N: *A little scared of her like this, clears their throat* Well… I was able to fix that wonky step on the back porch! Also, I’m gonna-

Alcina: *Snarfing her food down as fast as she can*

Y/N: *Can’t really focus, watching Alcina* Uhh… and, um, the nursery still needs to be painted. I just need your final opinion on the color-

Alcina: *Gobbling intensifies*

Y/N: *Completely forgets what their talking about, suddenly blurts out what their thinking* Wow! You must be really hungry, huh?

Alcina: *Stops eating, sits up straight with a dangerous glint in her eyes* Well, Y/N, considering I’m literally growing three tiny people inside me right now. Yes, I am hungry! Do you have a problem with that?! *Shrieks at Y/N*

Y/N: *Jumps a little in their seat* N-no! No, I don’t have a problem with that! *Smiles unconvincingly*

Alcina: *Literally bursts into tears*

Y/N: *Panicking* U-uh, what’s w-wrong, Alci? *Runs over to hug Alcina*

Alcina: *Let’s Y/N hug her for a second but ends up pushing them off* You think I’m FaAaTtT! *Wails*

Y/N: *Stumbles ass-first into a trashcan, dumbfounded* What?! When did I say that?!

Alcina: *Points her finger angrily at Y/N, still weeping* You didn’t have to! I heard it in your voice when you were complaining about me stealing- *Ahem* borrowing your sandwich! And then how you were going on and on about how hungry I must be to eat so much!

Y/N: *Floundering, trying to stand up and get the trashcan off* I didn’t say it like that!

Alcina: *Slams her hands on the table* I knew what you meant, Y/N! Now, if you are so disgusted by your whale of a girlfriend, then I’m going to do you the favor of going to bed for the rest of the day!

Also Alcina: *Starts crying and whining so much Y/N can barely understand* M-mAayBe I-I’ll call M-mirandAa and see i-if she’ll take c-care of mEeEe!

Y/N: *Didn’t really understand much of that sentence but heard Miranda’s name and knows she hates Y/N, decides to duckwalk with their ass still stuck in the trash* Baby, wait!

Alcina: *Goes to dial Miranda, stops* Actually, I have a better idea! Since you’re being such a dimwit to the future mother of your children, you can sleep at my equally idiotic brother’s house tonight. Me and the girls shouldn’t have to be confined to my bedroom because of the likes of you!

That night at Karl’s

Karl: *Hands Y/N a beer* So she just kicked you out ‘cause you called her fat?

Y/N: What?! No, I didn’t call her fat! She’s just super emotional and anything I do seems to set her off lately!

Karl: *Pats Y/N’s shoulder, pulls a Prince Zuko* That’s rough, buddy.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #cassandra dimitrescu #re8 shitpost #y/n is stupid #re8 incorrect quotes #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #karl heisenberg

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year

Text

Bonds

Pairing- Ronal x f!reader

Warnings- wlw, oral sex, fingering, bondage, blindfolds, spanking, overstimulation, pussy spanking, not proofread

A/N- omg its been toooooo long since i last posted a fic but I’m gonna rewatch awotw hopefully get some motivation to write and i started a new Ethan fic so look out for that oh and the i started pt. 4 of Rebellion

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Ronal’s cool hands smooth over the curve of your back, shuddering as lust seeps from her fingertips and into your nerves. You were bare with your loincloth used as a blindfold tied around your head stripping you of your sight. Your hands and knees held you up with Ronal behind you, you don’t know what she’s gonna do or when she’s gonna do it your at her mercy. Her hands slide from your back to your ass spreading your cheeks apart, Ronal hummed pleasantly as she sees your arousal gleaming on your puffy pussy lips.

Suddenly, her breath fans onto you making you gasp as the cool air hits you. You twist your hips up making her ‘tsk’ before smacking your ass. “Stay still or do you want to be tied down?” She says and you could feel your cunt weep with need at the fantasy of her tying you down and using you up. “Naughty girl.” She growls flipping you onto your back, letting out a squeal of surprise as you feel her grip one of your ankle strapping you to something you couldn’t recognize with something your couldn’t describe, she did this to both of your legs before beginning her attack to your pussy.

Her tongue sucked your clit harshly before gliding up and down to your entrance, it felt like heaven as she twisted her long tongue to your entrance, your hands find there way to her head fingers twisting into her hair gripping as her teeth graze you clit and soothing it with her skillful muscle.

“F…fuck, R-ronal, right there.” Your back arches and your ankels strain against restraints as her fingers slide your sticky lips open showing your pleading cunt, spitting onto your clit she gives it rough strokes as her mouth glides over both your entrances. This new sensation sent overwhelming waves of ecstasy, and then you cum, you cum so hard your vision spots, suppressed high pitched moans escape your throat as she continues her assault the pleasure on the precipice of pain.

She removes her tongue from you as mover her fingers from your abused clit to your aching hole, slamming into you she scissors her fingers inside of you stretching you open. Slipping out of you she spits on your cunt before slapping your clit, the lubrication from her spit and your excitement making the sound so much more sinful.

Pain shoots through your pussy making tears pool in your eyes and leak into the blindfold, quickly soothing the pain she gently rubs your overused clit and you feel new waves of ecstasy tear though you making your toes curl in agony and your hands pull at Ronals hands but she never lets up.

The built pleasure and pain combine together and send you over the edge, your hoarse throat lets out a sreech as your body was overcome with incredible sensations. Your hands ball into fist, trying to grip onto somthing, your toes curl muscles straining against the confinement’s that have yet to come off.

And then as you come down from the sensational orgasm Ronal reaches for the makeshift blindfold untying it and sitting it down with your discarded top, she freed your ankles rubbing the sore ring from you straining against them and then doing the same to your wrist giving your hand a small kiss she looked at you as she cleaned you up. “You did good nìhona.” She told you and a blush creeped up your neck as she wrapped her long arms around you and you soon drifted to sleep.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Nìhona- endearing sweetly

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killerbananas · 21 days

Text

Hush

Your sleeping form drives Jean up the wall, insisting you watch your noise level in the tent, but it’s a bit difficult.

🔞 mdni | masterlist | 513 wc | afab!reader x Jean

Warnings: smut; sleepy camping dubcon rough needy creampie surprise

AN: Repost from my old account.

It’s driving him mad, lying besides you, but not being able to do anything as he watches your shorts creep up your soft thighs. The final straw is your cheek peeking out and he doesn’t give a fuck anymore if his friends hear, but he knows you might. It’s the only thing that tempers his arousal to a gentle caress instead of smacking down like the clap of a frustrated god on your ass.

The long stroke of his palm over your skin wakes you from an almost-passed-out state to groggily wet expediently. He lets his fingertips dance along the curve he followed, dipping down, behind you, and slipping under the exposing shorts. It’s ticklish, the light touch he rubs against the length of your slit, slowly weeping moisture at his probing. He bites his other hand to cover the groan when he understands you’re not wearing any panties and realizes it’s destiny to bare the access he desires.

He manhandles you onto your stomach and places the long hard length of him on top of you to whisper in your ear.

“Keep quiet and you can come. Make too much noise and you’ll invite a crowd we’ll have to please. I know how you feel about being watched, but you better let me take what I need from this cunt first. I’ve been staring at your backside for hours, babygirl, and I cannot wait any longer.”

It takes all of you to not moan as he grinds his erection down with the warning. You manage a weak nod. It’s all he needs to free himself readily from his sleep shorts and start to slip inside of you. He has to bite your shoulder to hide his own sounds. You bite the pillow, nearly going cross-eyed in the endeavor.

“Good fucking girl. Almost all the way in.”

He works your now sopping cunt with his invading member with short, powerful thrusts. It minimizes the sounds of skin slapping, muffling more with his clothing still on, but has you panting and chanting the mantra in your head to close your fucking mouth. It’s just enough friction to drive you crazy and him close, not that he hadn’t been rubbing his cock the entire time he had to stare you down and was already closer than he let on.

“Such a perfectly available cunt shouldn’t go empty, right? What if I leave a fat load inside of you, huh? Y-yeah, sounds g-goddamn amazing to me. Fuck-I-I’m gonna…”

He’s jammed himself as deep as he can go on the last stroke, pulsing ropes of white that make your eyes roll back while he makes all the small noises, grunts, whines, as he fills you. It’s not fair that he can let out the release and you’re biting the inside of your cheeks until you feel his hand sneak beneath and ruin your good faith effort by blinding you with an orgasm.

“Ah!”

Oh, no… Maybe no one-

“Hey, did you hear that? I think it came from Jean’s tent. Maybe we should check on them.”

Shit.

Taglist: @aotwarriorsimp @alexpro-nwn @animediplomat @antoxsmith @armoredpotato @aviinnit @beffjurky @blondeboyfriend @casuallyck @cherrxs @dearbaji @erwinsbaby @eyesucket @fairypiku @fandomficsobsession @fujoneshi @holographicceo @hinasakuino @interfectio-mortales @kenryug @koulakoukoula2003 @kxkyuu-main @lavenderdaisyhoney @mybadluckshouldmakemefamous @chaotic-nick @nathalunalune @notgoodforlife @arsonszn @pockcock @poursomesunaonme @scouts-stuff @seychellse @shigarakiapologist @soaringmirror @sparklekitteh @stigandr-the-cat @syrma-sensei @reiners-milkbiddies @tiffanyy-21 @tonaken @torapologist @touyyes @we-are-so-close

#aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot smut #aot x reader smut #snk #shingeki no kyoujin #writing with kbee #aot x you #aot x y/n #reader insert #Jean kirschstein #Jean smut #Jean kirschstein smut #Jean x reader #Jean x you #Jean kirschstein x reader #Jean kirschstein x you

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celestie0 · 19 days

Note

🪷 girl fuck these people I'm really sorry you're getting so many messages bitching about no smut in ch10. Like who even cares? Does a story or chapter have no value if the characters aren't going at it like rabbits and fucking and sucking on each other?

At this point if you're so disappointed about no hanky panky just go read one of those pornhwas where the characters start screwing at the drop of a hat.

I would've loved that chapter with smut or without smut idgaf it doesn't even matter to me (and the same is for most of your readers too, I'm sure of it). We've all stuck around with your work for so long, and we have faith in your direction as well as your decisions regarding the pace of the plot. It's never that serious, especially not to the stage that bozos feel the need to weep in a writer's asks and swamp them with negative messages. Go jack off or play dj with your hello kitty and go to sleep like the rest of us.

Again, no matter what you do with your work it's entirely your choice. Ofc we as readers can have our own takes and how or why we interact with the work can vary, but it shouldn't reach this stage. I've seen this same story of bullying and pestering authors on tumblr too many times with other authors whose work I enjoy, and many have left their blogs because the harassment made them lose interest in writing and sharing their pieces. It's fucking heartbreaking. Pornhub dot com is right there for y'all to be doing entirely too much in the asks of these writers who are already overwhelmed and write and share all this FOR FREE. If you have so many qualms about it pick up that bic and get to writing bitch!

I'm sorry babe take care! We love you🫂

AHHH LILYPAD ANON I APPRECIATE U SM THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 😭😭 you’re always so kind to me i sobs

yeahh sigh :( i was just a bit upset that ppl were already finding fault w a chapter i haven’t even released yet just bc it doesn’t have smut in it 😭😭 like i obviously know by now that i can’t make everyone happy, but it’s not right to subtly pressure me into a certain direction for my story (ik this is a normal thing authors/writers have to deal with, i am just a weakling unfortunately 💀💀 my therapist wld agree)

i know it’s not most of my readers though :”) everyone is so sweet n kind n patient, i just don’t understand the some few that think that just bc they tell me they’re disappointed there’s no smut, that i’m somehow gonna go back to my 80pg dissertation of a chapter n make it 100pgs just to add some for them 😅…like no. what it DOES make me feel is icky n sad

frankly it’s really uncomfortable to make an author feel bad that there’s no explicit sexual content in a story 😅 your horny brainrot is showing. like, i AM def planning to write smut in kickoff, there will be multiple smut scenes to come. but even if i suddenly chose not to include them anymore, that’s my right to do so.

and yes, if they want smut, they can write it themselves. why do i need to be the one to write it for you? i don’t owe anyone anything.

i totally agree w you. honestly, i feel bad sometimes setting these boundaries, but you’re SO RIGHT in that SO many authors leave their platforms bc of hateful asks/pressuring comments etc, i’ve seen it time n time again. bc it’s true that it DOES get to people, especially when creating art is already a very stressful thing. i don’t have to passively tolerate rude strangers on the internet just because i’m trying to protect n pursue my passion

thanks sm for trusting my direction :”) and YES absolutely!! i love it when my readers disagree w character actions or emotions, bc characters have flaws n i’m intentional about those flaws, so it’s exciting to see opinions my readers have, even if they’re in disagreement, because it’s interactive w my work. not that i expect anyone to interact ever. i understand that i post on my own accord, so readers can choose whether to interact on their accord as well.

but something about pressuring me into writing explicit sexual content into a story that i’d like to think is a lot more than just smut, is really disheartening.

- ellie 🐸

#sorry babe i kinda went on a rant here but i just am at my wit’s end #love u n tysm for supporting me as always 🥺💕#🪷 anon #asks #kickoff

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jusvibbbin · 1 year

Text

Graduation Frustrations

Kenickie x Reader: Epilogue 1

1 | 2 | 3

//my original trilogy is near and dear to my heart, and since its been popping off recently i’ve decided to write a few epilogue chapters for it :) i hope you enjoy and feel free to send me more grease requests <3

“I’m sorry kiddo, but it looks like you’re going to have to repeat senior year.”

Kenickie stared back at Mrs. Murdock, mouth slightly agape. The shop teacher awkwardly looked around the classroom as the rest of the class had started to pack up. Graduation was one month away and she knew that boy’s only chance was finals.

“REPEAT WHAT?!” Kenickie had finally processed what she had said.

“Come on, Kenickie. Are you really surprised? You’re passing my class but only because you actually showed up. How many times did you go to history? English?” She threw her hands up, exasperated, and walked over to her desk. Kenickie paused for a beat before following after her.

“What the hell do I do now?” He chewed his bottom lip, a nervous habit he developed years ago.

Mrs. Murdock looked at him and sighed, sitting in her chair.

“Study, kid. Study til you drop.”

At that, Kenickie rushed out the door.

Your head slipped off your hand and smacked against your desk with a loud thud. You groaned lightly as you sat back up. Looking out the window, it was much darker outside than you thought it should be.

A short knock at your door scared you out of your thoughts as you quickly tucked the ring on your necklace under your shirt.

“Come in!”

Your dad’s head poked around the door, an eyebrow raised behind his glasses.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? I thought you had a big test tomorrow.” His eyes scanned the room carefully as he spoke and you rolled your eyes tiredly.

“Kenickie isn’t here, Dad. I’m studying calculus.” You stretched your arms and stood up from your chair. Glancing at the clock you realized he was right. Two a.m. was way too late.

“I know that.” He huffed lightly.

“I know you do.” You crossed the room to give him a hug before pushing him out of your room. You turned off your light and sat by your window. Hearing your dad shuffle back down the hall, you pulled the ring out.

The engagement ring sparkled in the moonlight making you smile softly. It was beautiful, plain and simple. But would that be enough to ease your parents' worries? You still hadn’t found the right way to tell them Kenickie had proposed. You knew they liked him, but would they approve of him? He was your first relationship, a high school sweetheart. You sighed as you twirled the ring around your finger.

You decided you’d figure it out once finals were done. Right now all you needed to do was sleep.

“YOU DID WHAT?”

The T-Birds were utterly gobsmacked as Kenickie smirked proudly. Unlike yourself, he had told anybody who would listen that he had put a ring on your finger. His mom was overjoyed and started ringing all her friends to tell them the good news.

“Kenickie freakin’ Murdoch is getting tied down?”

“A married man?”

“Never to be seen again?”

There was a cacophony of mock groans and weeping as Kenickie rolled his eyes. The only one of them who was quiet was Danny, who simply gave his old friend a genuine smile. He had already asked him to be his best man, the only guy around for the job, and Danny accepted wholeheartedly. Kenickie had waited to tell the rest of them because of this exact reaction.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You know (Y/N) doesn’t mind havin’ you idiots around.” The guys all whooped and high fived.

“Me on the other hand… I don’t know.” Kenickie chuckled as they shot skeptical looks his way. His face turned serious as he remembered why he was telling them all this in the first place.

“Look, we can talk about weddings all day long, but it’s not gonna happen if I don’t graduate. How the hell am I gonna pass five classes before the end of the year?”

The T-Birds grimaced then looked thoughtful as they tried to brainstorm any possible way for Kenickie Murdoch, the king of skipping class, to get passing grades.

“You could threaten all the teachers so they raise your grade,” Doody suggested.

“Yeah,” Sonny chimed in. “Just tell em that they’ll have to have you again next year!” He laughed loudly as the other boys just shook their heads.

“Why don’t you ask (Y/N) to help you cheat? You’ve got a couple classes together,” Putzie said. The T-Birds agreed with shrugs and ‘yeahs’, but Kenickie frowned. He wasn’t sure about getting you involved in his mess, especially if that put your reputation on the line.

“Why don’t you just pay some nerd to tell you what you need to know?” Danny piped up.

Kenickie grinned and slung his arm around his buddy’s shoulder.

“And that’s why you’re my best friggin’ man!”

The gang cheered and walked across campus to find just the right nerd.

As the bell rang on your calculus final, you breathed a sigh of relief. It was out of your hands now and that meant there was no point worrying. You picked up your things then headed back to your locker to find Kenickie waiting for you.

“Hey you,” you said with a smile as he opened your locker for you.

He sent a sheepish smile your way and you instantly narrowed your eyes.

“What is it, Nickie?”

“Do you think you could uh, introduce me to one of your smart friends?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he said this, and looked anywhere but at you. To no one’s surprise but the T-Birds, they didn’t exactly have the best track record with the ‘nerd community’ so finding help had been damn near impossible. You quirked your eyebrow and nudged his foot with yours. His eyes finally met yours and he turned a bit red.

“Do you need help with something?” You made a slight face, a bit hurt he didn’t want your help. He scoffed and waved your comment away.

“No, no, no. Uh, Putzie needs some assistance with a history project.”

You gave him a suspicious look as Kenickie stood there starting to sweat.

“I think Alyssa Monroe has the extra time to help him out.”

Kenickie smiled and quickly kissed your cheek.

“Thanks, babe. He owes you one.”

You waved him off and he headed back down the hallway as you looked after him.

You walked up to your house, wondering about Kenickie the whole way. As you walked past the dining room, you noticed something glittering on the table. You took a couple steps backward to look again and to your horror, it was your engagement ring. Before you could snatch it, your parents came in from the kitchen.

“Hi sweetie, how were your tests?” Your mother sat down next to your father and motioned you to sit as well.

“Good,” you replied as you nervously took a seat.

“I found that on the bathroom counter this morning,” your dad remarked, picking it up. “It's a sparkler that's for sure. Where’d ya steal it from?”

“Dad!”

“I’m only kidding!”

Your mother rolled her eyes at his antics as she took the ring from him and handed it to you.

“You know you can tell us anything, sweetie.”

“Yeah honey. Most of the time we know already.” Your mother elbowed your father in the ribs as you squinted your eyes at them.

“Wait… you already knew? How?” You were utterly confused.

“Kenickie came by two months ago, asking if we’d accept him proposing to you. We said ‘of course’, you know we love that boy.” Your father beamed at you.

“We’ve been waiting for you to tell us,” your mother said, looking at you expectantly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt the first tear roll down your cheek.

“I was scared you wouldn’t approve. Not of Kenickie exactly, but the fact that we’re so inexperienced. He was my first boyfriend and now we’re getting married.” You let out a shaky breath as you processed what you had said. You two were really going to be together for the rest of your lives.

“Sweetheart, we just want you to be happy. If that boy makes you happy then who are we to say anything? No one is ever really ready.” Your mother grabbed your hand from across the table and your father reached to cover both.

“Thank you,” you said softly, feeling the stress from finals and the engagement finally fading away.

“No, the war of 1812 has nothing to do with the Spanish Inquisition. Are you even listening?” Alyssa Monroe had her head in her hands as Kenickie looked over his notes again.

“Shit, I wrote that on the wrong line,” he groaned as he erased and rewrote.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell (Y/N) that you needed help,” she started. Kenickie shot her a look and she simply huffed before looking around the local library. It was getting dark and people were beginning to gather their things.

“Look, it’s getting late. How bad can your grades really be?”

“Really fucking bad, okay? Bad enough to get dumped. Okay, I’ll work on the history later, let’s go to geometry.” Kenickie pulled out another piece of paper. Alyssa stared at the greaser, wondering if anybody had ever seen him care about school before. She opened the textbook and started going over what he needed to know for the final.

After studying for days on end, Kenickie was ready to blow his teachers away. He had prepped as much as he could and thanked Alyssa tremendously. He tried to pay her but she declined, stating she’d rather consider it ‘volunteer hours.’

One by one, he blazed through his tests, even finishing early in history. All he had left was geometry. He was about to walk in when you grabbed his hand and tugged him around.

“What’s up, hun?”

You pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips then pulled away with a smile.

“Good luck, handsome.”

Kenickie flushed as a grin spread across his face. He squeezed your hand then headed into his final, confident as ever.

“A D-?! What the hell?”

You bit your lip, listening outside to Kenickie as his teacher graded his test on the spot. Mr. Roberts simply shrugged, and swiveled his chair away from him to do something else. Kenickie stood there, heartbroken as he looked at his test. He had been so close to just barely skating by. Now it was a wash and he would have to do it all again next year.

“Excuse me,” you piped up. Kenickie snapped his head up to look at you in the doorway. Mr. Roberts smiled as you walked in.

“(Y/N), one of my favorite students! You could learn a lot from this one, Murdoch.” He gushed over you as you looked over Kenickie’s final. Several moments went by until you set the test back on the mathematician’s desk.

“I don’t think you graded this right.”

The two men looked at you and then the test as Mr. Roberts picked it up again. He looked over it briefly before shaking his head.

“You must be mistaken. He missed several.”

You glared at the teacher, walking over to the board and writing all the problems he had marked incorrect. You began solving them and as Kenickie looked on, he realized his test looked like what you were writing.

You turned back to Mr. Roberts as he looked on shamefully.

“You don’t have to like him, but you have to treat and grade him fairly. Kenickie, you got a B-.”

Kenickie was sure he had stopped breathing. Here you were, his shy, sweet, brilliant fiance, telling off a teacher in your own nerdy way. And he was in awe of you.

Mr. Roberts changed his grade as the two of you walked out and headed to his car.

“Once again, a round of applause for our valedictorian, Patty Simcox. And now to introduce our honors students, our salutatorian, (Y/N) (L/N),” Principal McGee announced as you took to the stage.

Kenickie cheered obnoxiously loud for you, as you stepped up to the mic. You were glowing with pride and all he could do was thank his lucky stars that he was yours. He thought about your year together and all its ups and downs. He thought about how you had changed him for the better in so many ways. And he thought about what you might look like on your wedding day. He hollered for you again as you got your diploma and you sent him an overjoyed smile. He had never been prouder. As the honors students left the stage, he made eye contact with Mr. Roberts and gave him the finger.

With graduation over and done with, the seniors had one last day of celebration at Rydell. The school had shelled out for a carnival on the field and everywhere you looked people were having a good time. You walked with Jan as she stuffed her face with cotton candy.

“Isn’t this great?” She said with her mouth full. You laughed, nodding as you tore some of her cotton candy off the stick. The two of you walked over to where the T-Birds and the rest of the pink ladies were watching Danny and Kenickie compete at the shooting gallery. Kenickie grumbled as he lost by a few points until you slipped your hand in his. He smiled in that way that he saved just for you and let you drag him away when no one was looking.

“We’ve been so busy I feel like I’ve barely seen you.” Kenickie nodded in agreement as you stopped at a ring toss game. You pulled out a quarter to play while he stood by and watched you.

“Gonna win me somethin’?” He pointed at a long stuffed snake and you knew you just had to get it. A few quarters later, Kenickie had a brightly colored ‘scarf’ around his shoulders. The two of you walked, chatting about everyone else’s plans for after school, when you walked into the line for the ‘Tunnel of Love.’ You sent him a look but he just wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. As you got up to the operator, Kenickie slipped him a few bucks before you got in one of the cars shaped like a swan.

“What was that about?”

“I just wanna get some extra time for us,” he said as he pulled the bar over you both.

The ride started up and you cuddled into his side. You entered a dark tunnel that suddenly lit up with all sorts of colors and shapes. You looked around at everything, but all Kenickie looked at was you. Your eyes met him and you leaned forward to kiss him. He held you to him as you made out in the middle of the tunnel of love.

Around the corner you could hear the groans of the people in line as the operator lied that it was down for maintenance. You giggled into your kiss and Kenickie pulled away to chuckle too.

“We’re getting married.”

You opened your eyes to find him studying your face.

“I know. How do you feel about it?”

Kenickie thought for a moment as he played with the hair at the nape of your neck.

“I’m the most excited I’ve ever been. I’m happy that you said yes. And I’m hopin’ that I’ll be enough for you, forever.” His eyes flicked away as he finished and you put a hand on his cheek to guide them back to yours.

“I’m a little nervous too. But I know we’ll be okay, because I love you. And we make a great team.” Kenickie kissed your forehead before traveling down to leave hickies on your neck. You moaned softly which only spurred him on as he groped at your hips.

With a jolt the ride started up again, Kenickie letting out a frustrated noise which made you laugh. Blinking at the sudden sunlight, you exited the ride and walked around until the sun started to set. Everyone was standing around Kenickie’s car as the day ended, discussing where to go after.

“You guys have fun, I think I’m gonna head home,” you said with a smile as the other T-Birds begged you not to go. You waved to them and, as you turned to walk home you heard footsteps come up quickly behind you.

“Let me drive you, it’s getting dark,” Kenickie grabbed your hand to twirl you around.

“It’s not that far.” But he had already started leading you back to the car, ranting and raving about how dangerous the neighborhood could be.

Parking in front of your house, Kenickie kissed your hand sweetly. You kissed his cheek and moved to get out, before he tugged you back gently.

“Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?” You pulled an amused face as you nodded. Kenickie smiled and let you go, only driving off once he was sure you were safe inside.

Lunch had been simple, just a date at Frosty’s. But as he started to drive back to your house, you noticed Kenickie was going a very roundabout way to get there.

“Nickie, what’s up?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Ain’t nothing’s up.” Kenickie was not a very good liar, but there wasn’t much else you could do as he drove you in circles for another twenty minutes. Finally, he pulled into your driveway, getting out quickly to get the door for you. You punched his arm lightly at the gesture, starting to walk up the porch. You looked back to see him peering intently through a window before snapping his attention back to you, an awkward smile on his face. You narrowed your eyes and pushed open the door…

“SURPRISE!”

The lights were thrown on, a bottle of champagne was uncorked and a confetti cannon popped. You gazed around, startled, until you saw your family, friends, and a large banner that read ‘Happy Engagement!’ You started to tear up when the T-Birds brought a cake out of the kitchen.

“Ah shit, did we miss it?” Sonny exclaimed as everyone else just laughed.

You turned to Kenickie, who was standing by your parents, and it all clicked.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Since he asked if he could propose to you! Isn’t that right, son?”

Kenickie looked at your father, mild shock written all over his face before he quickly nodded. You wrapped your arms around his neck, whispering how much you loved him in his ear. Kenickie grinned as he held your waist, appropriately in front of your parents of course.

As you pulled back to look at him, he looked slightly worried.

“What’s wrong?” You reached up to put a hand on his cheek.

“We still got a whole wedding to plan!”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Well then, we better get started.”

#Grease #kenickie #Kenickie Murdoch #kenickie x reader #kenickie murdoch x reader

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ikatella · 1 year

Text

The Cards We're Dealt

Dabi x Reader Part Three to Russian Roulette and Spades Chapter 1/2 7.4k words Noncon, kidnapping, possessive Dabi, Stockholm syndrome, threats of violence

Waking up to find yourself Dabi's captive, you must find a way to try and escape, but at the same time, you find yourself learning more about the dangerous villain than you ever expected. You see a side of him never before seen, and you learn just how far he'll go to keep you under his thumb.

You start to come to slowly, your eyelids feeling extraordinarily heavy. You don’t even really remember falling asleep, and your body feels fatigued and sore beyond belief. A source of sweltering heat is pressed against the side of your body and buried into your neck. You feel something sharp graze the skin of your shoulder with a small nip. With a start, you remember everything from before you fell asleep.

Fighting to open your eyes, eyesight still blurry with sleep, you go to turn over and find yourself unable to move, as something tugs on your arm with a metallic clink. Another sharp nip and warm exhale of breath against your pulse.

Your vision clears more and you realize you’re not in your room anymore. You don’t know what this place is, the room looks rundown, with nearly no furniture other than the bed you’re currently bound to. There’s very little light, the windows are seemingly plastered over with aged, yellowed paper, and the paint on the walls is cracked and peeling in some areas.

Looking down, you’re not surprised to see who the source of warmth is. Dabi looks up to meet your gaze as if sensing your eyes on him. His stare is still filled with the same intensity that you’ve started to become accustomed to.

“Where am I?” You ask, swallowing thickly. You don’t understand where he’s taken you, or for what reason, but the possibilities as to why have you frightened. This situation doesn’t seem to bode well for you.

His large, rough hand slides up the lower half of your stomach, pushing your shirt up slightly. “I told you that you’re mine, I’m not gonna risk you getting away from me now.” He speaks lowly against your ear. You shudder at the vehemence in his voice, and it fully hits you how entwined you were with him now. He’s reached a dangerous level of obsession with you, and maybe that means he hopefully won’t kill you, but there’s no escaping him at this point. You can’t even be sure he wouldn’t murder you if you pissed him off enough, or if he got bored with you.

“I don’t understand, where am I-” He cuts you off with an iron grip on your chin, raising up slightly and leaning over you as he speaks again, his voice firmer than before.

“You don’t need to understand anything other than you belong to me now, and I’m keeping you here. Get used to this place, it’s your new home, got it doll?” His face is just a hairsbreadth away from yours now, his cerulean eyes burning into yours.

You can’t help it, your lip starts trembling and tears begin to spring in your eyes. You sniffle as the hot tears spill over and run down your cheeks. Dabi doesn’t seem even the least bit alarmed by your weeping, if anything he seems almost pleasantly surprised.

Pulling you into his arms as he sits up, he coos and starts to stroke the back of your head. Your arm tugs uncomfortably from where it's chained to the metal frame of the bed. “It's okay baby, I’m not gonna hurt ya, as long as you behave everything will be fine. I’ll even take the handcuff off if you promise to be good.” He speaks in a softer voice, trying to soothe you, as a choked sob makes it past your lips. You’re struggling to wrap your head around your current predicament, you weren’t sure how to get out of this. The last thing you remember, you were in bed at home, maybe in the grasp of a frightening villain, but home nonetheless.

You continue to cry as he wraps his arms around you, forcing you into even closer proximity to him. You feel the heat radiating off of his body, and he smells of smoke and ash.

“Will you behave if I take off the cuff?” He speaks in a quiet, almost smooth voice, still speaking closely to your ear.

Sniffling, you nod your head tentatively. You certainly were in no position to try and fight or resist him as it currently stands. Even with your own immunity to his flames, you know he could easily overpower you if need be. He seems pleased with your meek obedience as he produces a small key and leans over your still trembling body as he quickly undoes the handcuff keeping you tethered to the bed.

The skin on your wrist is reddened and sore from how tight the restraint was, and you bring your hand up to your chest as you curl further in on yourself. Dabi says nothing, simply pulling you closer to him, fully seating you atop his lap now. You can feel his heartbeat, and each rise and fall of his chest as he holds you flush to his body.

He wipes the tears from your cheeks and continues to shush your weeping, burying his face into your hair as he inhales.

“There’s no reason to cry, everything’s alright.” He continues to stroke your hair as you cry as if sympathetic, but his tone still seems quite pleased and if you weren’t mistaken, you could feel him growing hard against your ass through his pants. His presence felt overbearing and oppressive, and you felt trapped in his arms.

“I wanna go home.” You whimper out between small sobs, you know he won’t let you, but you can’t help your words. His fingers tighten in your hair and his voice drops down back to something more harsh as he speaks.

“This is your home now, and you’re not leaving.” He all but growls into your ear, his grip on your hair becoming borderline painful. “I don’t wanna hear you ask to leave again. Got it?” When you simply sniffle and don’t reply, he yanks your hair, hard. “Got it?” He repeats himself in a threatening tone. Quickly, you nod your head in assent and he seems to accept this, the grip on your hair relenting.

He continues to hold you like this for some time, murmuring to you in a low voice as he holds you close, and if he shifts your weight in a certain way that has you grinding against his crotch, you pretend to not notice.

Soon you got to become familiar with the rest of this decrepit hideout of his, any windows close to the ground level are barred and the only door in or out is always locked. He had escaped-proofed the whole apartment as if you were a child. No house phones, no computers, nothing you could use to access the outside world.

The place was all around sparsely furnished, and there was a scent of mildew about. It's not far off from what you’d imagine a villain would call home. There was, at the very least, an archaic but still functional television. It becomes your only source of news of the outside world, and the only thing to really keep you entertained on the many days when Dabi is gone, presumably off committing other atrocities with the league.

When he left you alone for the very first time, telling you that he’d be gone for a while and to behave in the meantime, you of course tried looking for a method of escape. Once you heard the front door slam shut, you waited ten minutes before moving to the front room, your feet padding across the cold ground. You were surprised he gave you free rein of the place already but that made a potential escape attempt so much easier. To your surprise though, the front door was left unlocked.

Did he seriously forget to lock the door? It didn’t even occur to you that it may have been a test until you were already scrambling to open the door hastily and Dabi’s disappointed and irritated expression greeted you.

Fuck.

“Seriously, did you just fall for one of the most basic tricks in the book?” He advances on you quickly as you stumble back and gasp. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.” Dabi quickly closes the distance between you, as he grabs you roughly by the arm, dragging you back inside. The door slams behind you with a resounding bang. “But I’m still pissed.” He says, clicking his tongue in a tutting sound as if reprimanding you.

You open your mouth, looking for some excuse to defend yourself but you just stammer as the words escape you. Shaking, you can’t even bring yourself to meet his furious gaze, your heart thumping out of your chest.

He yanks you towards the one singular bedroom, not giving you any chance to resist or fight against him. Your feet can barely keep up and he’s partially dragging you across the floor as he strides towards the room. You’re forcefully tossed atop the bed before you even have time to react, the metal springs squeaking in protest.

Immediately he’s above you, gripping your wrist tight enough to bruise as restrains one wrist to the side of your head, handcuff biting into your skin as he closes it tighter than need be.

“Dabi please-” You try to plead as he leans all his weight into you, gripping your other wrist as he pulls out another handcuff. He doesn’t give you the chance to speak though, cutting you off quickly as he grips your jaw.

“No, I gave you a chance to prove to me you’d behave and you fucked it up.” He restrains your other wrist as he scowls at you. Both his hands move to grip your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I knew you would try to resist being here at first, but that doesn’t mean there’s not gonna be any consequences for trying to leave.”

He leans his face close to yours, near enough that your noses were almost touching, as his voice drops down to something barely above a whisper. “I’m going easy on you this time, but I won’t be so lenient the next. You’re mine, the sooner you realize that, and the sooner you stop fighting the better.”

Truth be told, Dabi enjoyed it when you fought back. Something about your defiance and the idea of the chase, of forcing you to submit to him really got his blood pumping. However, something that he craved infinitely more was your willful submission. He wanted you to submit to being his, to come to terms with it. Your rightful place was beside him, and if he so chose, underneath him. Additionally, it was simply easier this way, he didn’t want to risk you escaping simply because he thinks it’d be titillating to chase you down.

“You've lost your free roam privileges, I hope you’re comfortable because you’re not gonna be leaving this bed for a while.”

Your eyes are wide and fearful and Dabi was obsessed with how beautiful that fear looked on your face. He leans in further, closing the gap between you two as he presses his lips to your own, kissing you fervently. The way he kisses you always felt more intimate than sex, but this wasn’t the tender kiss of a lover or partner. The way he moves his mouth against your own was full of possessiveness, and laced with a feeling of danger, as if he wants to consume your very soul.

With your arms bound to the metal headboard and his hands still holding you tightly in place, you can do nothing to resist him. He bites your bottom lip, no doubt intentionally, and you whimper into his mouth. He groans against you hungrily before pulling away to speak, leaving you gasping for breath.

“God you’re gonna be the death of me.” His voice is low and rough, filled with desire now.

Before he can move to kiss you again though, you speak up. “How long are you going to keep me chained here?” You ask tentatively, the thought of being trapped and restrained for an indefinite amount of time making you nervous.

At the very least, he seems to give your question genuine consideration, pausing before answering.

“Until I feel like you’ve learned your lesson and I don’t have to worry about you trying to escape again.” He says simply after a moment, in such a casual tone you could think he was commenting on the weather.

“Dabi please, I swear I won’t try to leave again-” You try pleading with him yet again but he shushes you before you can get too worked up about it.

“I know you won’t baby, because the next time you try to escape I’ll make sure you can’t walk again.” His voice is low and honeyed and you shiver, knowing he’ll no doubt make good on that threat if you do.

His mouth moves down to your neck, one hand tilting your head to give him better access, as the strong curve of his nose brushes against your pulse point. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your soft skin, starting out slowly, feeling your quickening pulse against his lips. Soon though, his intensity grows as does his hunger, soft butterfly-like kisses becoming ravenous as he begins to nip along your neck and collar bones, bruises slowly blooming across like spilled ink.

Gasping beneath him at his ministrations, you’re powerless to stop him as he takes your body for himself, you feel completely ensnared by the man, like a fragile bird caught in the jaws of a snake. Yet, you can’t help but melt under the lavish attention, under the warm heat of his body. You hate being here, and you hate what he’s done to you so far, but it feels all too easy to give in to him, at least in this moment.

Dabi takes his time with you that night, reveling in every inch of your body, removing clothing leisurely as if he has all the time in the world. Doing nothing to resist him, even when he slowly presses into you, humping into your tight heat like a man starved, you do nothing but moan and whimper and he coos at how sweetly you’re behaving for him, praise falling from his lips like prayers. Your gut churns in both white-hot pleasure and insurmountable guilt as you cry out for him and come hard around his cock.

He follows through on your punishment as well, keeping you bound to that bed for several days, only undoing the cuffs when you need to use the bathroom, herding you to the dingy and small room, and standing right outside the door to ensure you don’t attempt another escape.

Even for meals, he doesn’t remove them, instead insisting on feeding you every single bite himself, much to your chagrin. You feel irritated and humiliated, but you suppose that’s the intention. Your arms feel sore from being held in the same place for such an extended period of time and you try and lay in a way that relieves some of the tension. The worse though is when he’s gone for hours at a time, and you're left to do nothing but stare at the cracking wallpaper to pass the time.

It gets to the point where you feel yourself perking up when you hear the front door creakily open and then slam shut behind him, his boots thudding down the hall as he approaches the room filling you with a renewed sense of vigor. You know you shouldn’t be feeling excited to see him, you know this is just another ploy to break you and make you feel reliant on him, but you can’t help how out of your mind bored these long stretches of solitude make you, desperate for any human contact.

Eventually, after an episode where you broke down crying before another one of his outings, begging to not be left chained up alone, he relented and unfastened the metal cuffs. Your arms were so sore, and you hissed as you stretched your aching limbs. He sighs almost exasperatedly and takes your wrists wordlessly, heating up his hands as he massaged the painful muscle. You don’t speak either, sitting in silence in front of him as you try to cease your sniffling.

The quiet hangs over you heavily and you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to thank him for finally removing the cuffs, or even for what he’s doing now, but you also don’t want to piss him off again, so you say nothing. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he thumbs out the painful knots in your wrists, but you can see the hint of a stern frown etched into his face.

Part of you wants to know what's on his mind, but you feel like asking him or requesting any information about himself would be crossing some sort of invisible line. He doesn’t ever offer you details about who he is, where he came from, or what he’s truly ever thinking. You know a lot about his crimes, his public attacks on various heroes, and even hero students. You’ve come to know at least some parts of his personality but you have no doubt there’s a lot he withholds.

You don’t want to become invested in unraveling the enigma that is Dabi, you don’t want to care or to be curious about it. So you keep your lips pressed shut and the moment passes by and disappears like a morning fog.

He still insists on keeping you locked in the bedroom when he’s out, but you accept this condition gladly at this point, happy to be out of the handcuffs. You find things to keep yourself entertained, you manage to convince him to haul the old box television from the living room to the bedroom, and he even brings you books on occasion. He’s gone frequently and sometimes for long extended time frames, and you find yourself reading the same books over and over again, flipping through every channel of the shabby TV. Dabi and the League are mentioned on the news at an increasing frequency these days, and you find yourself paying rapt attention, wondering what he was up to at that very moment.

Another way you begin to keep yourself busy is by cleaning, the whole place could use a good cleaning, the mildew scent that permeants in the summer heat driving you crazy. This first starts when Dabi is home, and you have more roam of the place. You find whatever rags and cleaning equipment you can find, you suspect Dabi isn’t really big on cleaning himself, and one morning Dabi finds you mixing bleach and water together in the small kitchen.

“Now what are you planning to do with that? I hope you know I can’t be poisoned that easily.” He speaks and you can hear the smirk in his voice without even turning to face him.

“These floors are filthy, do you never mop in here? Or do you just not care how much dirt you track in on your boots? I was surprised I could even find a mop.” You would love to have some nice scented floor cleaner, but you can make do with this.

Dabi scoffs and he leans against the nearest wall. “I don’t usually stay in places long enough to care about how clean it is. I bounce from place to place, and as long as I have a roof over my head I can give less of a shit about how much dirt is on the floors. I’ve kept this place as long as I have because I need a place to keep you.”

This gives you pause, as you stop what you’re doing momentarily, still not turning to face him completely yet. You feel as if you learned a little bit more information about him, another small piece of the puzzle.

Before you can reply, he speaks again, his tone lighter. “But it seems you’re becoming quite the little homemaker.” He comes up behind you and pinches your cheek in a teasing way. “How nice for me.”

Your face heats up and you feel a blush crawling up your neck at his words. You turn to face him, frowning deeply.

“I am not- I’m only doing this because I hate living in filth. And because it gives me something to do.” You protest, trying not to stutter over your words and hoping there’s no noticeable redness to your cheeks.

If there is, he doesn’t speak on it, instead wrapping his arms around your waist, his lips brushing against your ear. It’s obvious what sort of mood he was in right now, his hand beginning to tease underneath your shirt. You resist the urge to push him away, you really wanted to mop damn it, but you know that doing so would only rile him up more. You’ve come to realize it’s almost as if he has some sort of prey drive, like a hound chasing a hare, running or resisting was exhilarating to him, and filled him with the intense need to put you in your place.

So instead you speak again, tentatively. “But, if you could…do you think you could get me some things?” You were hesitant to ask, but you really could only do so much with bleach, some old rags, and a mop and broom that have both seen better days.

His breath and hot against your neck as he still leans in close to you. “Hm?”

Taking this as a sign that he’s at least somewhat paying attention, you continue. “Maybe some floor cleaner, and some dish detergent, and I know the windows are mostly covered but some window cleaner would be useful.”

He pauses for a second but doesn’t pull away, as if considering your request. A long silent moment stretches between you before he speaks again. “...Anything else?”

You’re surprised by how willing he seems to listen to you and your words stumble out past your lips as you go on. “Yes um, some stuff to clean the bathroom would be nice, and maybe some groceries and ingredients too if possible..” You think it would be nice to be able to make some actual meals, you were getting tired of the canned goods and cold carryout Dabi was giving you.

He pauses for another moment, thinking, before responding in an indifferent tone. “I’ll see what I can do.” You know it’s not a yes but just the possibility gets you excited and you find yourself smiling in a way you haven’t in weeks. Dabi looks at your expression almost strangely before speaking again. “But you’ll have to make a list of the ingredients you want, and no fish.” He adds on that last bit harshly. You tilt your head in confusion at the stipulation.

“No fish? why?” You inquire, and he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“I hate it, it’ll make me sick to my stomach.” He says in a simple tone. You suppose you could work with that, plenty of meals that aren’t fish based. You stow away your newfound tidbit of information on him in the back of your head, another detail about him.

Surprisingly, he does end up getting you several of the things you requested, though you suspect he probably stole them. You get to work cleaning the place, and you begin to cook actual meals. Dabi eats them with no complaint, no comment really, but he eats more than you’ve ever seen him before and you vaguely wonder when the last time he had a proper home-cooked meal was.

Eventually, after weeks of no more escape attempts, he lets you out of the bedroom full-time. He makes sure there’s no easy way for you to escape, the door is locked every second of the day, but you get free rein again.

It’s much easier now to find things to do when he’s gone, now that you’re not locked in that room constantly. He never tells you what he does or where he’s been when returns, but sometimes he comes in covered in filth and ash, and even on one occasion in blood. Sometimes he walks in as if he’s hiding an injury, not that you think he would tell you if he was. If you’ve cooked while he was gone, he always goes to the kitchen first and helps himself to the meal.

It’s easy to fall into a routine until one day he comes in, showing more obvious signs of injury, and without even locking the door behind him, he struts over to where you are in the kitchen. You were in the middle of cooking, but the food was almost done, and you stop what you’re doing to face him. Before you can even speak, he grips you by the arm tightly.

“I need you to stay in the bedroom for the rest of the night.” His voice is firm and serious, and you’re surprised by his words.

“Are you serious? Could you tell me why? I’m not even finish-” He cuts off your protests quickly, not giving you room to argue with him.

“, look I don’t have time to explain it right now, just trust me on this and get to the bedroom.” He seems exasperated, and now closer up you can see he’s irritated some of the scars on his face, the skin looking more agitated and red than usual, a staple pulled partially loose, some blood running down from it. What ‌was going on?

“Right now?” You ask incredulously. He pulls you away from the stove, turning off the burner as he drags you partially towards the hall.

“Yes, right now, ‌it. Just listen to me on this, and don’t come out of the room ‘til I say so.”

You let him lead you to the room as he slams the bedroom door shut, leaving you alone in there. He doesn’t lock the door though, which you’re grateful for, even if it was due to short-sightedness on his part. You hear him walk heavily back to the front door, as you strain your ear against the wood to listen.

The front door opens with a loud creak and you hear other voices enter the apartment. A high-pitched feminine voice speaks up excitedly.

“Woah Dabi, this place isn’t that bad at all! Do I smell something cooking?”

who is this?

You can’t help but wonder who Dabi would have let inside.

A different voice, a masculine one that’s rough and flat cuts through the chatter. “It’s suitable for tonight I suppose.” This person sounds largely unimpressed. Quietly, you turn the knob and open the door just a crack, slowly enough to not draw attention to yourself as you peek out.

Your heart lurches in your chest when you see the League of Villains gathered in the living room. You’ve seen enough of them in the news to recognize them, and you know most of their names from that alone. Dabi never talks about the League with you, never even mentions them, and you’ve been more than okay with that.

The expression on Dabi’s face seems irritated and you notice it seems the rest of the League seemed to have varying degrees of injuries themselves. What had they gotten into before Dabi brought them here? It must have been something major for him to bring them in.

“It is just for tonight, don’t be getting too cozy,” Dabi says in an irritated tone, and even though you can’t see him as well from your current spot, you just knew he was rolling his eyes. You could see where the leader of the League, easily recognizing him from the hand on his face, was sprawled on the couch, his feet kicked up. The blonde teenager, Toga you believe, leaned over the side of the couch as she continue to speak in a light tone.

“Awww don’t be like that Dabi! It’s not our fault our base got found out again, besides we have to watch out for each other!” She seemed awfully perky and chipper for a villain, if you didn’t know better, you could have thought she was just an average high schooler.

The other members of the league look for places to sit comfortably while Toga speaks, unfortunately for them, the house is sparse when it comes to seating.

You decide maybe it is best to stay hidden in the bedroom for the night, and hopefully, they’ll be all gone in the morning. As you turn to back away though, the floorboards beneath your feet creak loudly. All eyes shoot toward your direction, and silence falls over the group.

“Dabi, do you have someone else here?” Shigaraki’s voice takes on a more menacing tone as he moves to stand. You feel your stomach drop and the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. You just hope you can’t be seen from where you stand behind the cracked door.

“Fucking Christ.” Dabi pinches the bridge of his nose as he swears, sounding more irked than before. The rest of the League stands ready as if preparing to fight, the atmosphere tense. Dabi sighs again as he continues. “You might as well come out.”

At his words, you hesitate for a minute before slowly pushing the door open and peeking your head out nervously. The rest of the League seem to start when they see you, and Dabi does a beckoning motion with his hand. You step out of the room slowly and amble your way to him.

Feeling multiple sets of wary, mistrusting eyes on you, you avert your gaze as you come to stand behind Dabi, your hands coming to cling to his arm. You hope at the very least he wouldn’t let the others harm you.

Shigaraki is the first to speak, his red eyes narrowing at you behind the hand covering his face. “Dabi, who the hell is this? His voice is harsh and biting and you flinched in response.

Before he can respond, Toga speaks up, her voice excited and loud. “Aww, they’re so cute! Where have you been keeping them this whole time?” She cranes her neck around Dabi to try to get a better look at you, a wide smile on her face. She seems so upbeat, but she carries herself with a hint of danger.

Dabi gives them your name, grumbling and still annoyed, while you choose to remain quiet. You feel incredibly nervous as you tried to keep your trembling to a minimum. You haven’t felt this much fear since Dabi first sought you out. Although you still were terrified of him, over the course of your captivity, you’ve acclimated and become accustomed to his constant presence. You haven’t even realized how used to him you’ve become until now, in the presence of other villains and feeling that old terror reignite in you.

Toga still tries to lean in close to you, despite Dabi blocking most of you from view. “I’m Himiko Toga! Are you the one who was cooking in the kitchen?”

You hesitate, looking up at Dabi’s face before nodding quietly at Toga’s question. “It’s chicken and steamed vegetables.” Your voice is small and quiet, and Toga squees at how cute you sound when speaking.

“So while we’ve been moving from place to place, virtually homeless, you’ve been playing house here with some random civilian.” Shigaraki’s sharp gaze is turned to Dabi now as he speaks. “I understand now why you’ve seemed so distracted these past several months.” His tone is harsh, but at the very least he’s not looking towards you anymore.

Dabi’s frown deepens considerably, and he replies in a biting tone. “I haven’t been distracted, I’ve stayed on top of my goals and the leagues, and don’t forget I saved your asses today. What I do in my free time is none of your business.”

Shigaraki scoffs, but he backs off somewhat. “Saying you saved our asses is a stretch, but it doesn’t matter. Are they going to be a liability?” Shigaraki’s intense gaze turns back to you and you shrink into yourself under the scrutiny. It feels strange being the topic of discussion, but not being addressed directly. If the circumstances were different, you might have even had a sarcastic quip to say out of annoyance.

Dabi glowers in response, his eyebrows knitting together. “They haven’t been a liability yet, have they? Don’t worry about it.”

Sighing and seeming to give it up, Shigaraki settles back down on the couch, a pale hand going to scratch at his neck. “Fine, as long they don’t become one. I don’t care about your personal business, as long as it doesn’t start to affect the League.”

“So this is why you were so resistant to letting us rest here? I suppose I understand now, you didn’t want us to disrupt your little love nest.” It’s the villain wearing a balaclava and a yellow coat who speaks this time, though his tone is lighter and jovial. He feels less threatening than Shigaraki, seeming more accepting of your presence here.

“Don’t ever call my apartment a love nest again.” Dabi curls his lip and wrinkles his nose as he replies.

Toga leans in closer, fully intending to get into your personal space. “I can smell your scent all over them though.” She has a near-maniacal grin as she states her observation. “I think it's cute! How did someone like Dabi manage to snag someone as pretty as you?”

Dabi bristles at the subtle jab and mumbles something about Toga being a brat. You find the witty remark coming out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Handcuffs and sleeping pills, actually.”

She laughs at your reply before seeing your deadpan expression, and how Dabi’s face contorted. “Oh my god, you’re not joking.” You suppose it’s no surprise when her smile grows even more so. “I didn’t think you’d have it in you for something like that!” She faces Dabi now, her voice still excited. “How romantic!” She squeals, and for the first time, Dabi’s face looks something close to actual discomfort.

Shigaraki barks out a rough laugh, surprising you, and seemingly everyone else. “Are you telling me, that you were so desperate for pussy you kidnapped this poor individual? Oh, this is hilarious.” Dabi seems even more uncomfortable and now even irritated as Shigaraki laughs at his expense. You would feel bad for putting him on the spot like this, but you feel as if it's at least partially what he deserves for kidnapping you in the first place.

The league as a whole seems to be a mixture of amused, excited, and uncomfortable at this moment. “That seems a little fucked up. Do whatever you want!” The villain wearing a black mask speaks up, in two completely different tones but no one pays him much mind. The lizard looking villain, spinner you think, remains silent but he seems the most uncomfortable at this revelation.

“That’s not why you freak, also mind your own business. My reasons for keeping them here doesn’t concern any of you.” His voice is tight, his expression is brooding. He turns to face you, his eyes burning holes into your own. “I think it’s time you head back to the bedroom for the night.” You decide this is not something worth arguing about, quite frankly you want to get away from everyone as soon as possible. You nod your head compliantly and turn towards the room. You don’t look behind you as you shut the door but you can hear the continued mumbles of conversation.

A few hours pass until Dabi joins you, staying out there with the League discussing who knows what. You consider eavesdropping again but decide you rather not know. You just hope Dabi isn’t upset with you when he comes to bed. You’re laying in bed, huddled under the covers, when you hear the bedroom door click, and Dabi steps inside.

He kicks his boots off and removes his coat as he walks to the bed. “Fuck, they’re annoying, I really can’t stand them. Thankfully the boss has another hideout lined up and they’ll be gone by morning.” He sits on the edge of the bed with a pained hiss.

“Are you hurt?” It’s a stupid question you already know the answer to, you saw how beat up everyone looked, but you ask it anyways.

“Mhm.” All you get in response is a hum that you take as a yes. Dabi doesn’t say anything else for a while and a long silence overtakes the room. He continues to sit on the edge of the bed, away from you. Usually when he’s around he’s all over you, you never seem to get a break from physical contact with him when he’s home. Today though he’s been off, as if something is on his mind. After a minute he speaks again.

“When did you first get your quirk?” His voice is quieter than usual as he asks. This was not the question you were expecting.

You pause, thinking before you answer. “I’m honestly not sure. My quirk isn’t anything flashy, and it’s not like people hold toddlers over open flames. I realized what my quirk was when I was about eight and I accidentally touched a hot stove.” You shrug as you speak, recounting how you found out about your flame and heat resistance to him.

“So you’ve never even experienced a burn before.” It’s not a question but you shake your head no in response regardless. He falls back against the mattress and groans out a deep sound of irritation.

He throws an arm over his face and doesn’t look at you. “It’s not fair.” His voice is barely above a whisper and you have the feeling he’s talking more to himself in this moment. “You’re not powerful, you’re not anyone of any significance, you can’t wield flames or any actually dangerous quirk.” He sucks in a shaky breath and you decide this is the time to remain quiet. “So why is it you have the one thing I don’t?” He pauses for a moment as if trying to find the words. “The one thing I was made for I can’t even do right.”

His fist clenches in a mixture of frustration and anger. “I can’t use my quirk without burning myself, I’m a failure, just like he said.” You so desperately want to know who he’s referring to but you don’t ask. This is the most open or emotional you’ve seen Dabi, and you feel as if you speak now the moment will dissipate. Instead, you make a mental note of what he says, adding more to your ever-growing list of things you know about the scarred villain. You knew he burns himself with his quirk, you suspected as much from the burns covering his body. It didn’t fully hit you until now though that this was the crux of his seemingly obsessive interest in your quirk. Why he never was able to let you go after that first meeting.

He turns to face you now, addressing you directly. “So why do you get to be resistant to my flames? I don’t get that luxury.” Dabi looks to you as if he expecting some sort of response. You instinctively want to spew something about how that’s just the complicated way quirks work, how genetics are a complete toss-up. You know though that’s probably not an answer that’ll help. Pausing for a moment, you consider your next words carefully.

“These are just the cards we’re dealt in life. We can’t do anything to change the quirks or circumstances we're born into, sometimes you just have to roll with it and deal with it the best you can. In the end, I think the limitations or abilities of someone's quirk has little to do with what they’re fully capable of.”

Dabi looks at the ceiling, his lips pursed in a tight line as he considers your words. He looks as if he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Back to his emotionally closed-off self. You find yourself scooting over across the bed, bridging the gap between you two as you press yourself into his side. He frowns as he speaks again. “I don’t need your pity.” He says, his voice still quiet.

“I know, and I’m not offering it.” You don’t pity him, and you know he doesn’t deserve it after all he’s done. Yet, you still felt the urge to extend comfort to him, for the first time offering a closeness that he isn’t taking by force. He simply nods and allows you to lean into his side, feeling your soft skin against his own.

Within a few hours, you’re asleep but Dabi can’t help but lay awake. He considers your words, your quirk still vexes him. Everything about you vexes him. He realizes how deeply your quirk gnaws at him, beyond the initial irritation at simply being stood up against. Kidnapping you, holding you here against your will was the only option. You were constantly plaguing his mind, to the point where he worried about his own ambitions and goals being impeded.

This way, however, knowing you were under his control, that you were waiting for him when he got home, quieted the thoughts. It allowed him to focus on what was really important, it soothed his steadfast obsession with you, at least momentarily. The only other way he could have stopped these suffocating thoughts would have been to kill you outright.

As he looks at your sleeping form, he realizes just how much he doesn’t want that. You’ve become something precious to him, in his own sick twisted way, he needed you. He would rather kill you though than have you live without him, out of his grasp. He brushed a hand sweetly across your cheek as you slept peacefully next to the murderous villain. You were truly never getting away from him, not with your own life.

The next day, the League was gone, having moved to the next base they had set up. Life became routine again, you settled back into the life you had become accustomed to with Dabi. If you could forget how you ended up here, you would almost say it was peaceful. Something with Dabi had shifted as well. He was still very physically intimate towards you, but something had changed. It wasn’t just sex, or physical touches that led to sex, he held you more. He would reach out and brush your hair out of your face, he would pull you down to the couch to simply cuddle with you.

He kissed you one day, not in the angry and possessive ways he had before, but full of emotion you couldn’t describe. His lips moved against yours passionately and when he pulled away, breathing heavily, he held you closer before kissing you again, and again, showering you in them. He became tender in a way you would never have expected from him, and you didn’t understand.

Of course, though, there came the day when this peacefulness you’ve settled into changed. You were at the end of the day, a caged bird forced to live in closer quarters with a predator that could devour you whole.

There was some sort of emergency and the League needed him, as soon as possible. He got off the phone with a yelling Shigaraki, and pulled his boots and coat on in a rush, barely even taking the time to explain he was leaving for a while before heading out the front door in a haste.

You stood in the kitchen, cleaning, and waiting for the familiar boom of the door slamming shut after him and the click of the lock as he left.

Slam

You waited, for it but no click. Did you mishear? No, you always hear the slide of the lock when he leaves. He wouldn’t have forgotten to lock the door, he never does. He wouldn’t be tricking you again, not after the time that’s passed. You can no longer focus on what you were doing, the possibility of the door being unlocked eats at your mind.

After what seemed like ages of standing in the kitchen, staring into space, you walk towards the front room with a twisting feeling in your gut. You stare at the front door for another five minutes, before you get the courage to reach for the knot with a shaking hand. You’re breathing heavily now, stomach doing flips. The doorknob turns easily, obviously not locked, and taking one last shaky breath, you pull the door open slowly. You fully expect to see Dabi standing there, waiting to punish you again for having failed another test but no one is there.

All that stands in front of you is freedom.

A/N: thank u for reading <333 be sure to tell me what you think

#dabi x reader #dabi #todoroki touya #bnha #touya todoroki #bnha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanfiction #yandere dabi #my writing

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