#''For the sake of any unprepared readers'' or whatever

[miraculouslumination]

Honestly I think one of the biggest reasons I wouldn't want to try and publish through like a Company or whatever is because my series is so unabashedly Queer and I don't want any forces to try and tell me to "dial it back" or "make it less obvious" or whatever

[astridthevalkyrie]

tw: dubcon, noncon, bully!gojo, afab reader w/ she/her pronouns

Gojo's a sick fuck.

He corners you on campus in the strangest places, taking advantage of the fact that he's been here a year longer than you. Sometimes Getou or Ieiri are with him, but most of the time he's alone, and when he's alone he's even worse than when he's just putting on a show for his dickhead friends. They only get to bear witness to him teasing you from afar, just his general idiocy and inborn cruelty. When he's by himself, though, nothing stops him from trying to corner you literally, one hand on the wall next to your head and the other finding some excuse to touch you, either running a finger down your cheek or brushing some invisible dust from your shoulder.

And you've had enough. You just want to find a place to sit down and study or read or eat or literally anything else as long as you don't have to worry about the only guy who tormented you all throughout school continuing the cycle in university where you were supposed to be free from this, this cocky, stupid, bitch.

You're in the library today, but his approach is the same as it is in any other location. Your physics lab, outside a professor's office, the community pool, for Christ's sake. First, he makes his presence known, making you aware that he's being his usual creepy self. This time, he's leaning against the wall when you turn the corner behind one of the shelves. There's a book in his hands that has so many dog ears you think he reads one page then saves the literal next one for the following day.

He doesn't look up, not right away. Not until he feels you glare burning his skin for a good few seconds. It's when you assume the burn actually becomes painful that he looks up, feigning a surprised smirk as his icy blues practically gleam. "Fancy seeing you here," he purrs, book staying open in his hands.

"Go to hell, Satoru." There's no point engaging further with him. The only option you have is to get the hell out before he gets to touch you. If he touches you, it's all over. You turn on your heel and throw a quick thank you prayer out that you don't immediately bump into Getou, who would act as the other mousecatcher whenever Gojo decided he wanted to play.

Behind you, you hear him put the book down and your legs move faster without you even thinking about it. You don't even know how he always tracks you down. Maybe he installed some app on your phone without you realizing. You'll get a new one. Anything to just get rid of him.

Even though you've been on campus for at least a month now, virtually every building is still wholly unexplored, mostly because you're constantly trying to avoid these exact types of situations. The amount of times you could have stayed on campus but instead scurried home is already close to the triple digits. And for what? You've only avoided Gojo a handful of times and left yourself unprepared for a hasty escape too.

There's footsteps somewhere, and now that your heart is racing you can't calm down enough to pinpoint where they're coming from. It's a Friday night and not even close to midterm week, so there's a few regulars here, but not nearly enough people that someone will see you. Not that Gojo minds, you've seen him look someone dead in the eye and then squeeze your hip impatiently, as though to tell them do you mind? You don't know where he gets his confidence, but whatever it is, it's well earned. Everyone gives in to him, eventually. Even you.

You turn out of yet another aisle, and then your legs falter.

"Hey, sweetness," he grins at you. Your back hits the wood behind you and your bag thumps to the floor. On days where he wants to really torture you, Gojo acts like a charmer, kissing the back of your hand or carrying your bag over his shoulder, preening in the direction of anyone who calls him a good boyfriend, singing a sinister thanks knowing damn well he isn't your anything.

This isn't one of those days. You can tell.

Gojo doesn't want to be your boyfriend anymore than you want to be his girlfriend. He likes his lifestyle, and an average stick in the mud like you would definitely ruin the perfect image. But that doesn't mean he wants you out of his life completely. When he'd learned you'd be going to the same university as him, he'd sent you the only text message he'd ever sent you, a filthy picture captioned with a sweet and simple can't wait to have you.

And have you he will, whenever he wants. He's pretty open about that. "Are you in a rush?" His blues blink innocently. You're not sure why he keeps up the act even when no one is around, it only serves to set your nerves further askew.

"Leave..." Before you can even formulate the thought of a process, his hands are on your hips, pinky finger slipping under your sweater inconspicuously. "Leave me alone, Satoru."

"Nah," he breathes, "you look real pretty today, sweetheart."

While he doesn't make a move to take your sweater off, he does bury his face in your shoulder and inhale the scent. Then he slowly switches from the sweater to your actual skin, tucking down the fabric of the turtleneck to expose your neck, which you'd taken pains and suffered the heat to hide. Gojo moans a little at just the last remaining bruise he sees on you.

"Love when you don't try to cover it up," he murmurs, "don't need you treating me like a dirty secret."

As if you could keep him a secret. No one aside from your professors even tries speaking to you, and you have no doubts as to why. "I do try—I did cover it up."

"This doesn't count." Instead of just kissing you, because he's a bitch, Gojo kisses the inside of your turtleneck, his hair tickling your nose. "I meant makeup and crap. This? S'like unwrapping a present, baby."

"Satoru," you choke. It isn't just how he touches you, it's everything. The proximity, the casual way he says the most scummy things you've heard in your life and says them like they're just simple facts.

"Normally, I'd tell someone to stop playing so hard to get after so many times. But you're special, y'know." Two fingers push your lower lip down and slide in slowly, running over your gums before violating your mouth further. "This bitchy attitude only makes me wanna have you more." He waits, waits for you to gag, to choke on his fingers and look up at him with watery, pleading eyes before he removes his fingers and slots his lips over yours.

When Gojo kisses you, it's not demanding so much as needy. For someone who already has an ego that's sky high, he still seems to want you to stroke it, and nothing strokes his ego more than the noises you make unwillingly. Every little gasp, whimper, sharp breath, he swallows possessively, as he drags his nails gently along your lower back, making you squirm closer to his mouth to get away.

He plays you like you're his favorite instrument. And he knows exactly which strings to pluck.

His tongue nips at your teeth playfully, and that's when you pull away, summoning up whatever remaining courage you have. "Someone's going to come down this way," you beg, because the only thing you haven't experienced yet is being fucked with an audience, and you're not eager to change that. "Please, Sato—"

"It's okay." The fingers that were just in your mouth a few seconds ago now slide down your waist and under your jeans, nudging them down. "Don't need any foreplay. Been hard since you walked into the library, sweetness. And I bet you've just been dripping playing tag with me. I promise one of these days you'll get to be it," he mocks, as his other hand undoes his belt.

Tears spring to your eyes, but Gojo kisses them off your eyebags before they can fall too far. "You're so tired," his voice coos, "m'gonna make it all better. I'll make you feel so good."

His hand twists into your hair, yanking it back in a single motion that must be gentle for him, but it's rough for you. It's the sting in your scalp that you focus on as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, making you jerk him off in preparation. It's the one thing he always demands, claiming he can't get off unless he gets to feel your touch first. Bullshit.

Once he's satisfied, Gojo moves your hand away, intertwining your fingers and placing them on the shelf next to your head as he guides his dick to your leaking pussy, sliding the first inch in with a hiss.

Praise drips from him easily like this, when he has you between him and any hard surface. The individual shelves hurt your back, but less so when he slides an arm around you, pulling you closer as he pushes in with one lazy thrust.

"Ah!" your cry catches in your throat, but he bites you, groaning with your lip caught between his teeth. He pulls out and thrusts again, and your tear slips down to your mouth this time, where he licks it off.

"God," he compliments, developing a pace that's fast but not fast enough, not fast enough to ensure you won't get caught or to make you cum, "so fuckin' glad I don't let anyone else fuck you. This cunt's only for me, yeah? Belongs to me?" When you don't answer, too focused on the feeling of him filling you, leaving you empty, and then filling you again, he speeds up. To Gojo, the more you struggle to give him what he wants, the more fair it is to make it harder.

The shelf shakes as he loves you against it, it won't fall but you fantasize about him being crushed under it anyways. Then you think about being buried under with him, completely in his clutches with no telling when you'd be able to get out, and you clench around him, eyes rolling back.

"You think there's cameras in here?" he pants, digging his nails into your skin again. The pads of his fingers press roughly under your shirt, sure to leave even more bruises for him to lavish with his tongue later, whenever he pleases. "Think someone'll see you getting railed and jack off to it? I know I would, baby. If I only got you on camera I'd be fuckin' my hand and coming on your face every night. Lucky me," he gasps, and you feel him swell inside you, "that I got the real thing all to myself."

You hate how much his voice and his words affect you, how much each filthy thought of his makes your pussy practically gush for him as one of your own fingers rubs over your clit frantically. Each squelching sound makes him more feral, till he's rattling you against the shelf, every thrust of his hips growing more frantic and more desperate.

"I'm almost there, sweetness." Gojo reaches up and squishes your cheeks together, blues blown out as he kisses your puckered lips one more time. "Answer my question, baby. Tell me whose cunt this is so I can blow my load in it. C'mon, fuck, tell me."

You let out a sob that hiccups into a moan, force out, "Yours," and cum.

Gojo whines, thrusting one, two, three more times before he's coming too, filling you up with each jerk of his hips. His head falls onto your shoulder, panting on your neck. Your turtleneck is entirely too warm now, and useless to boot. Cum drips from your pussy; Gojo slides two fingers against your hole as he pulls out, sticking them in your mouth, just at your tongue this time. You taste him and yourself, and even though he's not forcing them in further this time, you still feel like gagging.

He takes them out, then places them in his own mouth, sucking them off and groaning at the taste.

As he tucks himself back in his pants, he runs a hand through his hair, setting it back into place before dropping a kiss to your cheek. Your tears have dried now, and you're trying to ignore his cum leaking onto your panties as you pull your jeans up. You don't even want to think about how you look, or about how you'll bring yourself to another orgasm tonight thinking of this, albeit not one as good.

Patting your hip, Gojo flashes you his best grin. "See you next time, sweetness. Maybe tomorrow?" Without waiting for your reaction, he strolls off, a single hand raised in goodbye.

Wiping at your cheeks and taking out your phone, you release an angry sniff, penciling it in.

[queenshelby]

The Policeman’s Daughter – Part Six

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,308

Please comment, like and share. Your engagement is important to me.

You waited until your father went to sleep before quietly and carefully sneaking into his office on the lower floor of your property.

The door to his office was locked but you knew where he kept the key.

After retrieving it quickly from one of the kitchen cabinets, you entered and immediately noticed four files on his desk.

Nervously, you opened the first which addressed the murder of Major Campbell who, according to the reports contained within the file, had been shot by Polly Grey.

The file immediately beneath it was much larger than Polly’s file and indeed related to Tommy’s conduct.

When you saw Tommy’s name on the file, your heart stopped a beat. Until that point, you didn’t want to believe that Tommy was, in fact, involved in criminal activities.

According to his file, he was responsible for several murders, organising a robbery and explosion and running several illegal enterprises. It became evident to you how Tommy had gained his wealth and you were upset to learn about all this from your father’s investigations.

Tears were running down your face as you began to realise that you had given your heart to a criminal.

How could he have been two faced, you wondered. He certainly did not appear like a bad man and yet he did terrible things.

After you calmed down from your initial shock, you wrote down whatever you considered relevant.

You compiled a list of proposed charges and evidence to give to Polly the following day, knowing that, ideally, you should just tell your father about what you were asked to do and let him deal with it.

But, to your own detriment, nothing of what you read about Tommy that night changed the feelings you had already developed for him.

***

The following day, at around 10 o’clock in the morning, you met with Polly at the orphanage just as agreed.

‘I have compiled a list just as you have requested’ you said to Polly after she pulled you into a quite corner inside the library.

‘May I have it?’ she then asked, waiting for you to hand it over to her.

‘Is it true?’ you asked curiously as you held the list behind your back.

‘Is what true?’ Polly asked impatiently.

‘Has Tommy ordered all these killings my father is investigating?’ you then went on to ask.

‘You should ask Tommy that’ Polly said calmly and unprepared to discuss this with you.  

‘Tommy doesn’t want to see me. He said it was to keep me safe and I now realise why he said it’ you explained.

‘He has taken a liking in you and, unfortunately, every woman he had shown an interest in has gotten hurt in one way or another’ Polly warned you.

‘Well, I want to see him. I want him to explain this to me. I want to know everything’ you demanded.

‘Sweetheart, you are playing with fire. You should stay away from him and this family for your own sake. I mean, look, you just made yourself an accomplice by gathering this information for us’ Polly then said with a slight chuckle.

‘I did this for Tommy. But, I will give you the list that I have compiled if you arrange a meeting for me with him’ you said, holding out the list for Polly to take.

‘Tonight at 8 o’clock at his house. I will make sure that he will be there’ Polly then said, taking the list from your hands.

‘Thank you’ before wishing her a pleasant day.

‘If it is any consolation to you, Tommy isn’t a man who has anyone killed just for the sport. Everyone on this list deserved it in one way or another, just like the judge  and the men who abused you’ Polly said as she skimmed over the list of charges.

‘Excuse me?’ you asked, turning around briefly.

‘You heard me Love’ was all that Polly said before walking away.

***

At 8 o’clock, just as agreed with Polly, you arrived at Tommy’s house and were greeted by his maid Francis who escorted you into Tommy’s office.

‘I told you to stay fucking out of it, eh’ Tommy said angrily as you walked inside.

‘You didn’t tell me anything Tommy. You didn’t tell me what you do and what you are involved in. Tell me Tommy, what is that you do? Illegal gambling, money laundering, robberies, murder, sedition…What do you do huh?’ you shouted back as your anger was building inside of you. How dare him scolding at you after what you have done for him and his family, betraying your own, despite a lack of honesty from his side.

‘I do bad things Y/N, alright. But you obviously already know that and yet you are here’ Tommy then said, calming you down by caressing your face with both of his hands.

‘Yes, because I wanted to hear it from you’ you said, tears building up in the corner of your eyes. You were full of emotions. Love, hate and desire, all at once.

‘Is that the only reason, eh?’ Tommy said as his face was awfully close to yours while his hands continued to caress and cup your face.

You paused and sighed while looking into his piercing blue eyes. Once again, you were lost for words.

‘Was it you who had the judge killed along with the three men who had hurt me?’ you then asked quietly.

‘Yes’ Tommy said calmly as he continued to stare at you.

‘Why?’ you then asked as your hands moved to his face as well, caressing his just he was caressing yours.

‘Because I am in love with you and they fucking deserved it, eh’ Tommy then said and, just as he finished his sentence, you grabbed the back of Tommy’s neck and kissed him hard. He kissed you back, not hesitating a second and it didn’t take long for your kiss to deepen.

You pressed your body firmly against him as your lips clashed, hands tangling in each other's hair.

‘Bedroom, now’ you ordered in between kisses and Tommy didn’t dare to argue with you.

‘Yes Love’ he chuckled. He certainly didn’t expect this conversation to end like this and was quite happy and willing to allow you to take charge.

As you both reached Tommy’s large bed you both collapsed onto it as you were straddling his lap now.

You could feel his firmness poking you, and you grinded against it. He moaned, a low guttural sound, and you moaned in return. His hands grabbed the bottom of your satin shirt and you put her arms up, allowing him to pull it off. Tommy discarded it as he pressed his face against your cleavage, rubbing his face in between your breasts and taking in your sweet scent.

Tommy began to pull off his own shirt, and you took this opportunity to undo your bra. Both your actions were urgent and desperate and the sight of your bare breasts took his breath away once again.

You sat on Tommy’s lap as he was sitting back against the bedhead and took one of your nipples in his mouth as you grabbed his head and moaned once more. As he kissed and sucked your breasts, his fingers hooked themselves in your panties and began to slide them down. You stood up and took them the rest of the way off.

‘I want you to make me cum with your mouth Tommy’ you said with determination and, to your surprise, within mere seconds of your command, Tommy fell forward onto his knees.

‘As you wish my Love’ he said as he lifted your skirt up and began to plant small, gentle kisses on your legs. He worked his way up, biting softly at your thighs. You continued to moan softly, your hands taking fistfuls of his hair.

Finally, his mouth found your pussy, and you moaned his name. His tongue glided across your entrance, savoring how sweet you tasted. Almost like strawberries.

Tommy then parted your lips and lapped at your pussy hungrily, his patience disappearing. Your juices were addicting, and feeling you shaking at his work and moaning his name was beginning to drive him crazy. He circled his tongue across your clit, his hands kneading your ass as he sucked and licked your pussy.

You were now shoving Tommy’s face into your pussy, grinding up against his tongue. The orgasm that had been building hit you like a semi-truck. You bit your lip to stop from yelling out, your entire body convulsing, Tommy’s mouth filling with your wetness.

Finally, you pulled him back, allowing him to take several deep breaths. You stared down at him panting, your body shining with sweat.

‘Get on your back Tommy’ you moaned and, surprisingly, he did as you said, happy to take orders from you.

You got on your knees, quickly got rid of his pants and underpants, before pulling one of your thin stockings of from the floor and securing Tommy’s wrists to the bedhead.

‘What has gotten into you, eh?’ Tommy grinned as you tied him up.

‘Shh’ you simply responded before pressing your lips onto his while taking his cock into your warm hands, eliciting a moan from Tommy.

You began to stroke him, softly and then more firmly before pulling your mouth away from his.

Then, you began to plant kisses across Tommy’s neck and chest until, finally, your mouth was only inches away from his cock, your breath hot on his shaft.

‘Please Love, fuck’ Tommy moaned, pulling against his restraints.

‘Please what? Please suck my cock?’ you smirked, looking up at him. Clearly, he wasn’t used to be teased like this.

‘Please suck my cock’ Tommy panted and you didn't need to be told again. You swallowed his cock, immediately taking his entire length deep into your throat.

Tommy cursed. He was at your mercy now and you gazed up at him with wide eyes while your throat stretched out with his cock inside it. He was in awe.

You took his cock out and ran her tongue around the head, her other hand holding his balls. You made sure to lick every inch of him until, suddenly, you pulled your mouth off of him.

‘I need you inside me’ you moaned as you looked at him, hair messy and spit on your chin.

‘Do you want to untie me?’ Tommy then asked and you simply shook your head.

‘No Love, you will stay there nice and still while I ride you. For once, Mr Shelby, you aren’t the one in charge’ you smirked, placing your hands on his knees.

You slowly crawled up to him, placing kisses on his chest, before lowering your mouth near his ear and whispering ‘you are at my mercy now’.

Tommy groaned and pulled against his restraints once more before you leaned in and kissed him as your body began to slowly lower onto his lap, the head of his cock pushing against your opening.

It wasn’t long until Tommy penetrated you, relishing the soft and warm grip of your tight walls. It felt like a vice-grip, and the fact that he didn't immediately cum right there was a miracle.

Finally, your shapely ass rested on his legs, the entirety of his cock throbbing inside you. You leaned in and kissed him deep, pressing your breasts against his chest, raising yourself slightly before lowering yourself back onto his cock.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Tommy groaned as he felt himself getting lost in all of this.

Your humping grew erratic as you nuzzled your face into Tommy’s neck, taking what you needed from him as you rode him and it wasn’t long until you came forcefully, your body shaking as you did everything in her power not to scream and moan.

The sound of you panting pushed Tommy even closer to the edge until, finally, his cock erupted inside of you with a loud groan escaping him. You continued to cum, one orgasm after another crashing into you. Your impossibly tight walls continued to pump him until he had nothing left. His seed dripped out of you and around his cock and you rested your head on his shoulders as you collapsed.

‘Want to untie my now, eh?’ Tommy chuckled and you finally nodded and removed the restraints.

‘So, what is your plan?’ you then asked as you both collapsed next to each other.

‘I will be working with your father’ Tommy chuckled and you raised, up starring at him.

‘You what?’ you asked stunned and surprised.

‘I know what the Crown wants much more than me. I am of no concern to them. In fact, I am no more than a small piece in the puzzle which your father and I will help them solve. In return, I will receive immunity and an export licence and your father will likely be promoted to investigator in chief’ Tommy explained before pulling you close.

‘Who are you?’ you asked somewhat amused and in disbelieve.

‘A man with ambitions who has fallen in love with the wrong woman’ Tommy chuckled before kissing you gently.

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[leviiattacks]

How about Levi x reader, where they get set up on a blind date by their friends as a prank, but actually end up liking each other

note :: honestly not my best at all but it was cute i guess T___T kinda an opposites attract thing also it’s a modern au !!

for some reason hange and sasha wake up one morning and decide they want to wreak havoc

it’s not peculiar coming from them

after all they are always up to something

like the one time sasha purposefully trapped herself in an elevator with a hot guy

or the time hange tried to make coffee with an energy drink mixed in it??

OR-

okay you’re getting sidetracked

but the point is they have no real reason for this new venture of theirs

when do they ever have a reason though?

somehow today their scheming has led to them begging you to go on a blind date

“he’s not my type i mean he’s old and whatever but you would like him” sasha’s stuffing her face with a buttery croissant

she doesn’t sound very convincing

then again, you have no objections to the idea

you’re single

you’re lonely

if it doesn’t end in love well ??? guess you could fuck

and if you don’t fuck well ?? you got to go outside and get some fresh air

BUT

the idea of blind dating makes you squirm

the uncertainty which comes along with the situation is intimidating

honestly, part of you is worried you’ll end up making a mortal enemy at dinner, not a lover

the other portion is petrified you’ll end up on a date with a murderer

what if it ends up like that one netflix show and you end up getting stalked????

you shudder at that thought

BE OPTIMISTIC Y/N!! YUP YUP OPTIMIST ERA!!!

levi feels the same way but his version of nervous is very different to your own

his fears are very different

what if his date appears prim and proper but it’s really just a huge facade hiding how their house is a pigsty?

imagine the third date in is a movie night in and he walks into a landfill site...

what if his date chews their food obnoxiously loud?

what if they just dislike him?

that’s why ideally he would prefer dating someone he knows beforehand

but there’s no one he knows already that he’s interested in

that’s exactly why when hange calls levi and asks him if he’s willing to go on a blind date on such short notice he scoffs and tells them that maybe if they got a life they would know that his answer is a straight no

he’s used to people not pairing well with him

he guesses it’s because of his sardonic personality, maybe it’s his occupation - he is constantly busy after all. perhaps it’s his foul mouth

erwin told him the last time he had a date that he should probably ease up on the cursing but it’s levi...

he isn’t going to change for anyone.

and really if him being little mean is that much of a deal breaker he won’t bother looking for anyone

he’ll go it solo he supposes

“LEVI. PLEASE. you both would fit together like jigsaw pieces.” hange is practically begging

then they stop for a second and wiggle their eyebrows “that can have many alternative meaningssss~”

levi purses his lips and shoots them a hard glare

“shut it, i’m not going. i’m busy.”

“busy doing.....?”

“cleaning i need t-”

“NO??? do it some other time please they’re smart, fun AND not boring at all.”

hange gives him a pleading look then explains how his mystery date has already agreed for sasha’s sake and he really can’t stand you up

“you want me to go on a blind date with one of SASHA BRAUS’ friends????”

he looks at hange in utter disbelief because that means you just have to be loud mouthed and annoying like jean or connie

or just be as stupidly unfunny

he shakes his head rejecting the idea completely

“i enjoy sophisticated people.”

hange sighs heavily

“give it a chance! c’monnn what if i bribe you?”

little does levi know hange and sasha have purposefully picked you out because of the way you’re both polar opposites

where levi loves order you’re disorderly, where he follows his own rules you don’t follow any at all, where he is disagreeable you’re agreeable in every way of the word

where he is cold, you are warm, he’s a night owl, you’re an early bird, you’re day and he’s night

everything about the two of you is different

that isn’t necessarily bad, but sasha and hange find it hilarious enough to set you both up on this date

if it fails it’ll still be funny

you’re rummaging through your closet looking for your favourite perfume because to be frank you are NOT showing up unprepared

like?? what if he moves in to hug you and he smells the scent of the chicken you were cooking today

yeah you did have a shower but sometimes you wonder if the smell lingers

you KNOW it doesn’t but it’s a matter of principle

imagine he leans in and smells marinated chicken

you think you’d die on the spot if that were to ever happen

shoving a pack of mints in your purse along with your emergency pepper spray you give your outfit a once over

it’s nothing too extravagant but it’ll do the job

at this point, everything is great! you’re walking out of your door and you’re pumped up

you’ll be early for once and there’s a spring in your step

making a good first impressions is key here

you’re so close to your uber BUT

then you hear it

it’s almost inaudible but you’re sure you hear a mewl come out of the alleyway to your right

you’re about to ignore it because you aren’t even sure if you’ve heard it correctly

and it’s late you don’t feel like wandering into an empty alleyway

but the sound only repeats itself

fuck.

cautiously venturing inside you see it.

eyes softening you look at the stray kitten in front of you and bite your bottom lip and scoop him up in your arms you’re debating if running back to your apartment and leaving him there is the best option

what’s the other option?

well you could bring the cat along with you...

it would be a funny story for the future if the date goes well

now. unlike you levi is nowhere near late

in fact he’s ten minutes early waiting promptly outside of the restaurant in his white button up

he fiddles with his collar and wonders how the actual hell he got talked into doing this

hange offering to buy him cleaning supplies free of charge is probably it

8:15pm, you were meant to be here five minutes ago

if you’ve stood him up he’s going to end hange for wasting his precious free time

especially when he rarely interrupts his schedule for anyone.

a few moments of silence pass and he thinks

how do you look? 

not like it matters to him

but he’d just like to know

okay, so.

it’s 8:30pm now

levi is royally pissed off that you even have the audacity to show up

you’re holding your knees as you puff in and out

“I’M SORRY. i know i’ve wasted all your time but i saw a stray on my way here and i couldn’t leave him”

the updo your hair is in is disheveled and fly aways stick out

you’ve ran here after your uber broke down that much is obvious.

to be fair, your explanation is believable and he would have let it slide if and only if

you had NOT brought the fucking cat along with you???

he’s eyeing it with disgust as it purrs up against you and you coo at it stroking its fur

“you want to sneak a cat into the restaurant?” he asks in pure disbelief

sheepishly grinning and scratching the back of your neck your response is “well i know we can’t but if you tried to i wouldn’t mind because i really like this cat :-(”

when hange said he’d have fun they were lying

but at least they didn’t lie about you not being boring.

he picks the cat up with one of his hands

looks it in the eyes

sighs then places him carefully into your purse

“don’t let him be seen.”

you light up and try to hide the grin forming on your face

he isn’t that bad

he’s a little too serious for your liking but you can handle that.

the two of you walk into the restaurant and fuck you because the cat has to start mewling and screeching

coughing rather aggressively to cover it up it miraculously goes unheard

he shoots you a sturdy glare because he’s able to hear the muffled sounds

luckily, no one else is standing near you or is within earshot.

gulping you realise this is not a good first impression at all

late to the date, bringing a cat with you, begging him to help you sneak the cat in

you feel guilty, he probably expected way better

“oi, move your ass” he snaps

you look up realising you’ve been too lost in thought to see levi walking in front of you

“sorry” you mumble

he doesn’t respond but he does look back at you

you can’t gather anything from his face because it’s either plain or he’s got his brows furrowed

currently it’s showing no signs of distaste so he must be accepting your apology

he’s kind enough, steps out of the way to offer you the space to sit down first

he sits after you and you have no idea where to look

then the cat cries again from your purse

“lucifer, shhhhh”

you’re patting him and try to silence him

“you’ve named it already?”

laughing to yourself you’re happy he’s initiated the conversation first

“he’s a little sneaky so i called him it. do you have any other names you’d like?”

“why would my input in this matter be relevant?”

“you’re basically his family now!”

he’s covering his mouth with his hands and you swear you can see the pink tinge of a blush creep upwards and flood his cheeks

but this man doesn’t seem like the type to blush over anything.

composing himself he sticks a hand out and finally asks “what’s your name?”

coming back to your senses you realize it’s been twenty minutes since you’ve met and you haven’t even had the manners to ask his name even after arriving late

“Y/N!! what’s yours?”

play it cool!!!

he doesn’t respond instead stares at your purse and points with his index finger

lucifer has escaped again and now you really are regretting bringing him along with you

whilst you’re grabbing the cat and hushing him your date hums “try to guess it.”

well, that’s spontaneous, he doesn’t seem like the type to entertain himself with games

you think hard, he’s serious but he is kind, you guess that’s why he reminds you of sebastian from the little mermaid

get it? because he’s sweet but he’s a crab so he’s crabby??

god that joke is AWFUL because it doesn't even take into account the actual character of sebastian the crab

but you have no other guesses available.

“hmm... sebastian?” you jokingly ask

“it’s levi.” he deadpans.

oh wow you couldn’t be more far off

playing around with your fingers in your lap you fidget nervously looking around for a waiter to interrupt the conversation

levi has to sense your unease because his tone loosens up

“...do i really look like a sebastian though?”

looking back up at him your bite your lip keeping a giggle in

you can sense the ghost of a smile on his face

“yeah like the crab from a little mermaid”

at that he scowls but he inquires what exactly that means

the rest of the date goes without a hitch, sure there’s a few moments where lucifer attempts to sneak away but levi has no problems stopping him

it takes a while but the conversation flows easily after the awkward barrier from before is broken down

it’s lighthearted and calm.

he’s humorous in a way you can’t describe

levi’s mannerisms are cute, everything about him is endearing despite the serious front he has

and you can’t quite put your finger on it but his demeanor is charming

overall you find yourself enjoying the date even more than you expected

now the two of you are walking away from the booth and the fresh night time air hits your face as you step outside

turning to him you smile radiantly and without allowing him to get a word in you take your opportunity by the reins

“second date?”

you don’t normally make the first move but you’re eager

and to your surprise he’s just as eager as you are.

it doesn’t even look like he stops to think before he nods and agrees to meet with you again.

exchanging numbers with him you wave as you and lucifer part ways with levi feeling satisfied

and to his shock after you leave it settles, levi thinks he just might enjoy your presence

well, that’s a first for him.

he guesses what they say about opposites attracting is true

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

🕯Anon said: just wanna say I adore your writing and how you write Reiner and the kids and the other warriors is my favourite thing ever !! I just wanna give them all hugs :) do u have any hcs for the types of jobs you see them all doing in modernverse ?🕯

The types of jobs they have in modern au

{Annie, Bertolt, Colt, Marcel, Pieck, Porco, Reiner, Zeke, }

{Implied Reiner x reader}

{ "Porto" 1935 by Renato Natali 1883-1979 }

Annie is an Animal rescue worker.

Having had experience as a dog trainer before, it wasn't hard to find a full time job at her local shelter after graduating high school, having volunteered there before.

With time, effort and a lot of energy she made her way into the position of "animal control officer" now she spends her days busting animal's abusers doors and rescuing injured or neglected pets.

With long shifts and a high maintenance job, her time was all poured into her work. Usually she'd be exhausted after a long day.

Despite that, she's fulfilled and satisfied with her job. Not having to deal with a lot of people is a plus too, it's a hard job yes but she prefers it this way.

Her friends are bumped about not being able to see her a lot but they understand, plus she keeps in touch with them by lurking in the group chat only to send a snarky remark to stir the pot every now and then.

Bertolt sees her everyday because they work at the same animal shelter, even if their jobs are different they still walk home together, she also met some different people like Hitch and Marco at her job.

The kids love her job, they think it's badass, especially Gabi and Udo. Gabi because Annie gets to kick people in the face and Udo because he genuinely cares about animals.

She'd never tell anyone this, but part of the reason she wanted the job was because she felt guilty for her past self and wanted to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Bertolt is a veterinarian.

Having changed his mind post graduation and going to college instead of with Reiner, he graduated after 4 years of studying and is currently working with Annie at the local shelter while also planning to open his own clinic one day.

He takes some animals under his personal care for weeks or months even till they get adopted, he fears something bad will happen to the weak or ill ones if left at the shelter overnight.

Just like Annie, the job takes a lot of his time, not to mention caring for animals off of work. So he's in the same situation as her, but for the sake of his best friend he still finds time to visit and hang out once a week.

Reiner and him still text daily, it's mostly pictures Bertolt took of the animals, Annie on her break, interesting plants he finds along the way. And Reiner replies with pictures of the kids.

They still find time to play basketball together, they try to keep it a secret from Annie because she will kick their ass in it.

Bertolt is comfortable with his job, he feels like he belongs and likes being needed. Yes the long hours are a con but seeing the fruits of his labour grow and get better day by day makes it all worth it.

The kids like visiting his house because there usually will be a new dog or some animal in there every month or so, Reiner makes sure they don't bother the animals. 

Something he's never told anyone is a big part of the reason he changed his mind last minute was because Animals feel much safer and secure for him to work with than humans.

Colt is a college student working part time.

He's majoring in nursing, being a four years degree he's trying to balance his studies with work and taking care of Falco.

Zeke offered him to work full time after graduation at his clinic, since he's been working part time there for a while and the pay is good, plus it's really convenientnal.

He has worked different part time jobs in the past like a barista, flower shop assistant, tutor, kindergarten teacher, etc.

Between all his responsibilities he barely has time for himself, his courses end right before his work starts and the small bits in-between is spent on Falco and his friends. Zeke and Pieck try to take some of his responsibility but he refuses saying it's the least he could do to Falco.

He's really good at his job like multitasking, reading people, gaining their trust and having high stamina that he could stay for night shifts even.

He relies on coffee a lot.

Falco sees him as a real life superhero, they weren't that close before but after the incident he really started appreciating his big brother. 

Something he keeps inside is that despite pursuing this job because he genuinely wanted to make a difference in people's lives and help the sick, he also felt a crushing guilt after his parents passed away, and so he's trying to save other people's lives now instead.

Marcel is a pilot.

It's a dream he always had since middle school, soon after graduation he joined the military to gain enough flying hours and experience to apply to a commercial airline after taking some mathematics, aviation and some general flying courses.

He was officially hired as a pilot after getting his first class medical certificate to check his health.

His work isn't measured by hours to him but by days, he needs to be available 24/7 in case of an emergency call. Now he's working overseas and far away from his friends.

You've actually never met Marcel, only seen pictures of him and received letters. The person he keeps in touch with the most is Porco.

He likes his work, it's his dream. He doesn't like the work hours and being so absent from his friends and brother, he misses them so much at times.

Pieck is a tattoo artist.

Her shop is actually her old flower shop after she decided to change her career. She's always been good with plants and taking care of them, at that time Colt worked as her assistant. 

It wasn't till later after some years of practice and training under other artists that she was confident enough about her skills to start the project 

Her art is full of life, mesmerising and beautiful. She puts her soul in every piece and has gained a good reputation because of it, plus having really high ratings and strict hygiene rules, no health inspector could ever challenge her.

Having her own independent work meant that she has a very flexible schedule, being mostly free ment she could pursue other hobbies like gardening.

A peaceful and simple life where she can indulge in her art and be happy is all she ever wanted

Porco is a frequent customer of hers that gets a family discount, Zeke came once before and later sent his friend, a really tall and blonde woman who became her most frequent customer.

Zofia thinks her work is really cool and wants to go and just watch her do her thing, but it's frowned upon to have a kid just sitting at a tattoo shop.

Despite changing into this career, the town people still think of her as the sweet flower shop lady.

Porco is a bartender.

That job came to him by accident more than anything, he was working part time as a bouncer in a local bar but a slot was open after the old bartender suddenly quit and he gave it a chance.

He didn't expect to love it so much, neither did he know about his hidden talent in mixing drinks. So he took it as full time and changed to better bars after gaining the experience he needed.

Being naturally charismatic and good at influencing people, while also multitasking in making drinks and keeping a conversation going, he was instantly a hit in whatever place he worked at.

Working the night shift ment he's mostly free in the morning, he tries to help Pieck with her gardening and is actually attempting to grow some plants at his house.

Naturally whenever there's a gathering, he's the one mixing drinks and being the self assigned bartender who openly judges his friends for their choice in drinks. The charismatic persona being thrown out the window and replaced by a no mouth filter.

He genuinely cares tho, he's the one taking care of someone when they drink more they can handle. It's mostly Colt who underestimates his drinks and is left clinging to Porco who drives him home.

Because of his line of work, tattoos and general brash personality, the kids' parents don't like him even one bit. They're suspicious of him no matter how many times Reiner assures them he's trustworthy.

It's actually only Colt who trusts Falco with him, and maybe Zofia's mom who is at the bar every weekend. 

Reiner is a firefighter.

With his mother pushing him into this line of work, he applied for the physical and psychological exams after graduation before getting accepted. He wasn't unprepared per say but actually being in that line of work was more than he could ever prepare for.

It instantly took a great hit at his mental health, so much in fact that he was thankful Bertolt changed his mind last minute and didn't follow him in this job.

It was both everything he ever wanted, like saving people, helping children, animals and knowing it's him who saved them even if it means putting his own life at risk.

But also everything he hated, like the hunting faces and screams of the people who were far too gone for him to save, the recurring nightmares and constant guilt paired with imposter syndrome.

He works a 24/72 shift, meaning he works for a whole day before getting 3 days off. Approximately only working 7-8 days a month, not to mention unpaid leave, sick days and holidays.

So it both gave him a really tight schedule on some days and on others more free time than he knows what to do with, that's why he naturally took the main role of being the kid's caretaker. Looking after his little cousins genuinely helped him and he liked playing the big brother role.

Especially to Gabi, he was the only stable adult in her life. It's common knowledge that you call Reiner first for anything concerning her before her parents because he's more likely to answer and be available.

After meeting you, his life improved to the better as you moved in and became a trustworthy person in his life, someone he can depend on to take care of his little cousins on the days he works.

Not to mention that after you persuaded him to see a therapist, his mental health began improving too.

Gabi may or may have not committed arson at one point, she still wants to be a firefighter despite that and follow in Reiner's footsteps.

He hasn't told anyone beside you this, but he really fears for her, but doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

Zeke is a doctor.

Previously he worked in a hospital but was able to open his own clinic afterwards, Colt was a great help to him at that time when he was getting on his own feet and even worked a lot of unpaid hours.

After that he insisted Colt works an official part time job there with a much higher pay, till he graduates at least. Plus the experience will greatly improve his resume.

Zeke is brilliant at his job, he'd be a perfect doctor wasn't it for the fact he's a huge hypocrite who doesn't follow the advice he gives his patients. 

He does a side job in his free time that honestly no one of his friends know what it is, but they know it gained him a lot of connections and made new friends.

Something he always keeps buried inside was that he really never expected himself to become a doctor especially after what his dad did to his mother, and yet here he is. In some way it's like his own personal stepping stone to prove he's a better man than his father ever was.

Bonus:

Falco: middle schooler

He does volunteer work on the weekends, sometimes Udo joins him.

Doesn't want Gabi becoming a firefighter.

Likes all videogames , just all types.

Likes watching cartoons and medical shows with Colt who covers Falco eyes whenever an adult scene is on

His favourite food is chicken nuggets

Wants to try coffee

Is good at PE

Reads comic books

Likes yellow and blue

Gabi: middle schooler

Takes self defence classes and really wants to go to summer camp

Wants to be like Reiner, aspires to be as strong too.

Likes shooter videogames or really hard ones.

Likes watching Anime and cartoons

Her favourite food is Pizza

Wants to try energy drinks

Is also really good at PE and surprisingly good at puzzles.

Likes red and pink 

Udo: middle schooler

Takes music classes at the weekend, wants to go to science camp

Kinda wants to be like Reiner or an astronaut.

Likes calming videogames

Likes watching anime and Minecraft let's play

His favourite food is mac and cheese 

His favourite drink is strawberry milk

Is good at language classes and creative writing, he also just likes animals a lot.

Likes green and black

Zofia: middle schooler (could've been in a special program)

Takes music classes with Udo

Wants to be a lawyer

Likes co-op Videogames 

Likes watching true crime and youtubers drama

Her favourite food is Donuts

She likes strawberry milk and ice tea 

Is good at all classes

Likes white and purple

[stardusttrashed]

My Cup of Tea

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem! reader, slight Jean Kirstein x fem! reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 7.3k

A/n: I pictured y/n as a blasian or lightskin

Most of your friends thought you were crazy for wanting to join the scouts. They didn’t understand why you’d throw your life away like that. Always telling them living inside the walls and in constant fear wasn’t living anyway probably didn’t help the situation. If anything, you might’ve just gave them all existential crises.

In hindsight, joining does seem like a death wish. Throwing yourself right towards a titan for the sake of humanity. It was no wonder people preferred to join other ranks, such as the Military Police. But the threat of death never really scared you. You always thought that you needed to feel like you were living before having a rational fear of any alternative. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt like that solution was just beyond the walls. Somewhere so close but so far. 

So you joined the 104th Training Corps and graduated second in the class. You were a close first, second to Mikasa Ackerman. That was an achievement in itself since you started a running joke with her and the others that she wasn’t human. She was some titan god in human form. Or something like that.

In reality, ranks aside, making it through the training was good enough for you. Between the rigorous training and the bunch of idiots that provided numerous headaches- and even more laughter- there were times you doubted you’d even make it through. 

“I had a hunch you were as crazy as Eren, but I didn’t think I’d be right.” There he was, your biggest headache of the bunch. Jean Kirstein. You loved the loud-mouthed, blunt boy to bits, but that didn’t mean he was any less close to getting his ass kicked at any given second. 

It was apparent he had a crush on you since day one. Well, you and Mikasa, but his fixation on Mikasa was stomped on once everyone could see how head over heels she was for Eren. So he settled for you, the next girl with exotic black hair that had no crush to get in his way. 

He sat across from you at the table with an overconfident expression.“You could join the military police instead and live peacefully. It’s the smartest thing to do.” From the corner of your eye, you could see Eren’s head snap in your direction. He was glaring daggers at the both of you, well, mostly Jean, but for once, Jean’s attention remained on you.

“Well, Jeanie-” you leaned in closer, resting your elbows on the table, “- I guess there’s a first time for everything.” you chuckled and returned to your original position, taking a bite of bread.  “You’re only half right, though; I’m crazier than the suicidal blockhead over there.”

“I can hear you two, you know,” Eren broke in. 

“Oh, I know. You may be able to kick Je-ju’s ass, but I can hold my own against you,”  you chuckled before turning back towards Jean. “Besides, being in the Military Police sounds boring,” you said with a shrug. “I joined so I could become a scout so that I could get out of these walls. I’m sure you’ll have enough fun inside the walls for both of us.” 

Jean shook his head and mutter something inaudible under his breath, clearly disapproving. 

“Coward,” Eren mumbled loud enough for the both of you to hear, causing yet another one of their famous dining hall fights to break out. You looked across the scrapping pair at Mikasa, sharing a tired and somewhat annoyed smile with her.

The next day was like a nightmare. Chaos broke out as word of the return of the Colossus Titan’s return spread like wildfire. Wall Trost had been attacked, and titans were spilling into the city. Everyone was wildly unprepared, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared shitless. Without the Survey Corps, the 104th Training Corps were sent to the front lines. You were about to see your first titan and put your training to the test. It was everything you hoped for and dreaded all at once. 

You slew every titan you could that crossed my path, killing three titans alone and assisting more than you could keep track of. It wasn’t enough, though. Countless comrades were lost, either through being captured by titans or by running out of gas for their ODM gear. Nonetheless, you soared through the sky, flinging yourself from building to building as you did your part to keep humanity safe. 

Somehow in all the commotion of heading towards HQ, you got separated from the others. “Shit!” You stood on a roof, stopping to survey your surroundings. Titans still roamed through the city on the search for their next victim. Their footsteps grew closer, the building beneath your feet shaking uncontrollably. 

That’s when you saw them. The Survey Corps were back and working on the remaining few titans. You watched as Captain Levi killed a titan with ease and moved onto the two titans treading closer. He walked with such calm confidence you couldn’t help but stop to admire him. He made killing them look beautiful, like a dance. 

Without a second thought, you aimed my gear towards him, desperate for a closer look. You soared through the sky, mindlessly slaying every titan that got in between you and Levi. You were nearly there when your gear refused to function. In a quick moment of panic, you repeatedly squeezed the triggers, but nothing happened. You desperately hit the gears in hopes of bringing it back to life to no avail. You braced yourself as you began to tumble to the ground. You closed your eyes, sadly accepting your fate as the strong winds caused a few curls to fall from your ponytail. You had lived and done your fair part for humanity. At least you had taken out a few titans before your death. You prepared yourself for impact until you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back up towards a roof. 

“Trying to get yourself killed?” You were greeted with a pair of steely yet breathtaking gray eyes. You felt like you were dreaming. Captain Levi was holding you in his arms like a knight in shining armor. 

“I wasn’t, but now I’m having second thoughts- especially if it means I get to be swept off my feet by you.” You bit back a cheeky grin as you searched his eyes. His frown remained pressed in on his features despite the flash of interest in his eyes. The longer you stood there, the more you grew aware of his arm still firmly wrapped around your waist. 

He kept looking at you like he was expecting something. There was something about you that he found intoxicating. Maybe it was that mouth of yours or the wind-blown mess of black curls. His eyes trailed up from your gaze to your hair, which was probably a mess if you were being completely honest with yourself. When his eyes looked back down into your own, you couldn’t help but get lost in their storm. “You’ve got quite the balls on you, rookie. Too bad, you’re an idiot.” 

It took everything in you not to hit that smug smirk off his face. “No more of an idiot than you are, Captain.” You knew you could get written up for the way you were speaking to the captain, but the threat only spurred you on further. “Only difference between us-,,” you pressed yourself closer to him until you could feel each breath, “is that my balls are bigger.” 

Levi’s smirk was replaced with a more intense look that could’ve been mistaken as hunger as he held you tighter. “Prove it, brat.”

You searched his face for a sign he was joking as you let out a nervous giggle. You slipped out of his grasp and checked your equipment when you realized he was dead serious. “I’m out of gas. The supply team never came.”

“Well, if you don’t want to die, I’d suggest you use whatever little brain you have and think.” He nodded towards an approaching titan. Levi crossed his arms as he watched you like a game.

The 5-meter beast stumbled through the damaged buildings, rushing towards you. It was only three buildings away and covering ground fast.

Your train of thought went a mile a minute. The increasing intensity of the quakes beneath your feet only helped spur it on. You took down your hair and quickly redid your bun as you thought. “Take me as high as you can with your gear, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He hesitantly agreed, wrapping his arm around you once again. Your breath caught in your throat as you both went flying through the air towards the stumbling beast. You knew your plan was half-assed, but you couldn’t help but have faith nonetheless.

Once you were directly above the titan, you gave Levi the signal to let go, sending yourself spiraling towards the figure below. Levi watched with a dumbstruck expression as you confidently twirled through the air. You dove as gracefully as you could be with any ODM gear to help guide you. 

“Damn idiot,” Levi muttered to himself as you drew your blades. He swooped in, loosely wrapping both arms around you from behind in an attempt to help guide you. Surprisingly you managed to slice a clean chunk of the titan’s neck almost instantly. Part of him wondered if you had even needed his assistance. He carried you back up to the rooftop and gently set you down in front of him.

You twisted your body to face your savior with a cheeky smile. You shouldn’t be surprised he stepped in with such ease considering his reputation. He had no doubt worked on countless team missions, but there was something about the way you worked together that felt so natural.

“Told you I could handle it,” you mused to the annoyed-looking man in a way that came off unintentionally sexual. You wiped your blade on your sleeves before putting them back in their holders.

Levi quickly averted your gaze with a quick ‘tch,’ surveying the area. You felt like fire in his arms, which made him unusually flustered. He dropped his arms to his sides as he took a step back. He didn’t expect you to take his challenge so easily and pull it off, especially since you were out of gas. He admired that you weren’t all talk, that you could actually handle yourself. It made each annoyingly snarky comment that came out of your mouth even more intoxicating. “W-we’ll fall back. My squad can handle the rest of these ugly bastards.”

 You turned to face him only to have him continue to avoid your gaze. When he finally met your gaze again, he held his hand out to you with an expectant look in his eyes. You hesitantly took it, cupping your hand in his. It felt like electricity coursed through your veins at his touch. He pulled you closer with an unsuspecting strength, wrapping his arm around your waist once again. 

He was so casual about it while your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest any second now. “Is this how you get all the women, Captain?” You chuckled in hopes of concealing your nervousness. The scolding look in his eyes and the tint of red emerging on his ears spurred your teasing flirtations on. “I’m just saying-,” you rested your hand on his chest, “- your arm is starting to feel real homey right there.”

Levi looked away once again, “tch. Are you trying to live or not, brat?” 

You snaked your arms around his neck and kept quiet. Once he seemed happy with your answer, you hopped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. You wanted to make sure you were as out of his way as you could be. That, and you wanted to see his reaction. You could practically see the vein bulging from his temple, but he made no effort to correct your stance. Instead, to your surprise, he moved one of his hands to hold your thigh as he made sure you were secure.

His grasp only lasted momentarily before they fell on the triggers. Taking off without being the one in control felt so different. You felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach, causing you to subconsciously wrap your legs tighter and bury your face in his neck. The more you breathed in his scent, the calmer you found yourself getting. He was like a safety blanket you never knew you needed yet never wanted to let go of.

You didn’t see much of Captain Levi once he dropped you off with the other trainees. He left without so much as a bye. Not that there was much time to anyway. You couldn’t dwell or even so much as daydream. The days that followed were filled with cleaning up the remnants of your fallen comrades. There were so many bodies that went unidentified; it made you sick to your stomach—the only person who was more torn up about it than you was Jean.

Graduation followed soon after. You were officially able to call yourself a Scout. The next morning you and the others who joined the scouts were led to a castle. It was cleaner than you thought it’d be. You took your time getting to know the castle, eventually stumbling upon the Mess Hall. 

There had to be at least a dozen scouts in the room, yet you could make out one voice above the others. You anxiously looked around to find the man behind the bored sounding voice. Within a few moments, you had found him, your eyes landing on the raven-haired man with tired eyes. He was sitting with his squad and Eren across the room.

“Hey y/n, if you’re gonna keep staring, you might wanna wipe the drool off your chin,” Connie teased as he walked up behind you.

“Seriously,” Jean joined in. He slipped into the space next to you, despite this side of the room being practically empty. “I don’t get what you see in him.” He shook his head, disapprovingly.

“I’m not staring at captain Levi, you nitwit,” you snapped quietly, already annoyed by their teasing. You kept your lips in a tight line as you tried to control yourself. “I was just imagining myself being part of the Special Operations Squad,” you grumbled. 

“Y’know,” Armin piped in, nearly scaring you from his sudden intrusion in the conversation. “Neither of them said anything about Captain Levi.” I could hear his cheeky yet bashful grin in his voice. Connie’s and Jean’s obnoxious laughter only made it worse.

You turned to Armin with a deathly glare and opened your mouth to say something. You quickly closed your mouth as he met your stare. With a huff you turned away, focusing back on Captain Levi. “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything bad about him or be rude. Armin was the little angel of the group that you always had a soft spot for. You turned to Jean, eager to get the attention off of you. “Bet if it were you I was drooling over, you wouldn’t have an issue.” You watched him with a cocky grin, basking in his dumbfounded expression. 

“Just shut up, will ya,” he barked a tad louder than necessary as he crossed his arms like a child throwing a fit.

Your eyes wandered around the room while you laughed at his reaction. To your surprise, when your eyes landed on Levi again, he was already looking in your direction.

Everything Petra was telling him went in one ear and out the other once he spotted you across the room. He cursed himself for his heart skipping a beat. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see you here. You were crazy enough to go after a titan when you had zero gas left in your ODM gear. What would stop you from joining the scouts? He wanted to go talk to you, to at least get to know your name, but he had to stay and talk to Petra. Levi watched helplessly as you practically ran out of the room.

You tried to stall going back down to the Mess Hall as you stood in your room fixing your hair. You sprinkled some water on your hair to revitalize your curls like you would a plant. You didn’t wear your hair down often since all the wind from using the ODM turned it into a mass of tangles. 

“If you aren’t coming, can I have your serving?” 

You laughed to yourself, not needing to open the door to know who was on the other side. “You touch my serving, and I’ll kick your ass.” Sasha greeted you with wide eyes as you opened the door. She looked you up and down with a stupid grin, making you feel slightly subconscious about wearing your hair down.

“You’re gonna make Jean lose it,” she beamed, quickly cut off by a loud growl from her stomach. She scratched the back of her neck bashfully, “s-sorry I only ate one loaf for lunch.”

“Sasha,” you started with a straight face, “that’s literally how much we always get.” She looked at you like you had said the most absurd thing ever, and you raised your hands in mock defense. “You can have my bread tonight then.” 

Sasha practically dragged you by your hand to the Mess Hall. You found a seat between Connie and Armin, who not so subtly kept sneaking glances at you. Before your butt even touched the seat, Sasha nabbed your loaf of bread, plopping down across from Connie. 

“You uh, you look-.” Armin was cut off by Jean as he made himself comfy across you.

“Wow. I, uh, like your hair like that.” Jean gaped at you with a stunned look on his face. You couldn’t help but feel a boost of confidence under his gaze. It was like you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Hey Je-ju,” you said as seductively as you could muster, batting your eyelashes at the man in front of you. It must’ve worked cause you could hear even Armin quietly sputter beside you. Jean hummed as he leaned in closer. “You’re drooling.” 

Jean was brought back to reality by your laughter. He sat upright and muttered something under his breath before focusing on his food. He almost found the laughter that followed yours from Connie and Sasha obnoxiously annoying. 

Your laughter died out as your eyes absentmindedly scanned the room. The room was full of faces you had never seen before. Full of people willing to lay their lives down for humanity. Everywhere you looked, people looked somewhat at ease except for the short man sitting across from the commander. Unlike the others in the room, a smile never graced his lips, just a permanent frown. “Give me a sec,” you announced to the others. 

Jean’s eyes followed yours, and he quietly sighed in annoyance. You shot him a half-apologetic smile before making your way over to the pair. You swiped two cups of tea on your way over, still trying to conjure up what exactly you’d say to either of them. 

Commander Erin was the first to notice your approach, pausing his conversation with Levi so he could look up at you. His piercing ocean eyes stared at you, making you nearly forget why you even went over. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Levi deadpanned to you with an icy stare. He rolled his eyes after a long moment of silence had passed. “Looking for something, rookie?”

His curt acknowledgment made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, filling you with an antsy warmth. You felt childish for getting this nervous around him. What if he doesn’t even remember you? With a steely breath, you calmed your nerves enough to start talking.“Y/n Y/l/n of the 104th Cadet Corps,” you saluted. Erwin nodded in acknowledgment, but Levi continued to stare at you like he was bored. “I- I thought maybe you two would like something to drink—” you set down the cups in front of them, “— I was also hoping I could speak to Captain Levi.”

Levi stared at you, checking you out as discreetly as possible. He was finally able to admire your hair now that it was out of a bun. Your curls were gorgeous, like nothing he had ever seen before. You were gorgeous. He got lost in the thought of being able to run his fingers through your hair, playing with each curl on your head. 

You couldn’t tell if the expression on his face was disapproval or if he was intrigued, but you carried on either way. “I was hoping to be under you.” You grimaced at the slip of my tongue, nervously biting your bottom lip. You desperately hoped that they didn’t notice how your cheeks now felt like they were on fire.

Levi raised an eyebrow, choking on the sip of tea he had taken. You noticed his ear transform into a light shade of pink. Commander Erwin held back an unmistakable chuckle, hiding his smirk behind his cup of tea. “Excuse me?” Levi asked once he finally managed to stop coughing, still unable to get himself to look you in the eye. He was sure it was a slip of the tongue, but that didn’t stop the rush of excitement coursing through his body. He had his eye on you since the first day he met you, and your slip up definitely wasn’t doing anything to help.

“A-apologies, I mean, I want to be part of the Levi squad.” You ignored his disapproving scoff. “I want to help retake wall Maria and eventually see outside of the walls.” You chewed your lip, thinking of what else to say.

His silence was growing more deafening by the second. You were suffocating in it. Any confidence you had quickly died out like a fire without oxygen. 

“You think going against the Titans once and not dying makes you qualified to be part of my squad,” he started in a condensing tone. “You’re not. I won’t make you a part of my squad so that you can go out and get yourself killed.” He didn’t what’d he do if you were to get hurt while being in his squad. Or even worse, he didn’t know how he’d react to having you so close. So he did the best thing for both of you: deny your place on the team.

“Then let me show you why I am qualified,” You interject, finally rediscovering your fight. Did he not remember how you took down the titan when you first met? Sure, you needed assistance, but only because you were out of gas. “Only thing that’ll kill me are natural causes, and I don’t consider those ugly bastards to be a natural cause. I’m going to help reclaim wall Maria even if I’m not a part of your squad.” You nodded at the commander out of respect before taking off back to your seat.

You plopped down in between Connie and Armin once again with an irritated huff. He was so cold, yet you still found yourself wanting more. Maybe that’s what really irritated you about the situation. 

“Take it your talk didn’t go well,” Armin asked sympathetically, cutting into your thoughts.

“Of course not; what’d you think you were doing just walking up to them like that,” Jean scolded you. You could hear the mixture of relief and triumph in his voice, but you said nothing about it.

“Well—” Sasha began as she stuffed her face with whatever food she had leftover, “— she’s not entirely wrong. They are just people. Scary, intimidating, and powerful, but still people.”

“Whatever you said clearly got their attention. Captain Levi has been staring at you since you left,” Mikasa said curtly, silencing any bickering among our group. 

All eyes found themselves on Levi, who carried on his conversation with Erwin. They looked back and forth between you and the captain, trying to piece together what they missed. Eventually, one by one, they lost interest, turning around to focus on their food or whatever new conversation they could create. Even then, his gaze never left yours- watching you through every nod, reply, or sips of tea. You were the first to break the staring contest, jumping back into conversations like nothing happened. 

It became a routine of sorts. You’d spend your days’ training with the others, doing your best to push Levi out of your mind long enough to focus on being the best in each exercise. Each night for the next couple of weeks, you would bring him a cup of tea during dinner. No words were ever exchanged, just stares and a cup. He never even said a thank you, not that you ever really expected one. 

“Why do you keep giving him drinks?” Eren looked at you with genuine curiosity as you prepared to give a cup of tea to Levi. 

You shrugged, unable to think of a real reason why. He never asked for it, thanked you for it, and he barely even acknowledged you for it. Yet you still gave him a cup of tea everyday. You stared at the cup in your hand. The warmth it provided was nothing compared to the warm feeling Levi caused inside of you. Maybe that was the answer. Or perhaps it was to help him look a little less tired. “Guess it’s one of life’s strange mysteries.” You shot Eren a half-hearted smile before getting up and walking over to Levi.

He was seated with the other captains, the four of them speaking in hushed voices despite the room being full of chatter. You had half a mind to turn around out of respect, but you were already close enough for Hange to notice you as they glanced up at the room. 

You probably could’ve still turned around since Levi hadn’t noticed yet. Instead, you hesitantly carried on, keeping your head down. Set the cup down and keep it moving. That was the plan. For once, you wanted to keep my head down, but that plan flew out the window as you felt his fingers brush against yours. You held the side of the cup since you had picked up that Levi only held his cups from above, but there he was. You looked up at him with a hitched breath, completely forgetting the other captains were there. The half-smirk on his face and his fingers still on top of yours made it hard to think, move, or even stand. He looked at you from the corner of his eye and let out a quiet pleased sound at your reaction.

You shared a quick knowing look at each other that didn’t go unnoticed by Hange before Levi moved his hand so you could leave. Hange waited until you and the other captains had walked off, quietly plotting the whole time. “So, you and one of the recruits huh,” Hange asked vaguely. Their eyes were wide with their typical borderline crazy look. Levi’s shrug told them everything they needed to know. This was a rare moment to be treasured. Levi has a crush. Or at least a fixation. “Y/l/n, right? She is quite the cutie. Think I’d have a chance?” Hange noticed Levi’s frown deepen as he sent them a threatening glare. Hange burst into a fit of laughter, “I was only kidding. I wouldn’t steal your crush, I probably could, but I wouldn’t.” Hange chose to ignore the subtle way Levi’s body tensed at the word crush. “Why not go talk to the girl? Y’know, only so much can get done by just staring.” With a supportive smile, Hange walked away, leaving the dining hall. 

“Just ask him out already,” Sasha blurted out with a mouth full of bread. 

You opened my mouth to protest, but Jean spoke first, “she’s not wrong.” He sat across from you and stared at you in discontent. “It’s painfully obvious that you like the man even though you two have barely spoken a word to each other.” His blunt words dripped with venom, but the hatred never reached his eyes. He still had the same tenderness in his eyes like the first time you saw him. If anything, he was hurt more than angry. Jean slid his cup over to you and mumbled under his breath, “guess I can’t judge much, though.”

You held the cup in your hands, watching the liquid slosh around for a moment before taking a sip. “Thank you, Jeanie.” You met his gaze with a shy smile and could see his expression soften a fraction. “I mean it.”

You looked between Jean and Sasha with a confused expression as his face suddenly hardened, and Sasha gaped like a fish at what was behind you. “What?”

“Y/l/n,” a voice piped up from behind you, causing your whole body to freeze.

You looked at Sasha, quietly asking for confirmation. She nodded, her eyes still zoned in on Levi. You cautiously turned around to see Levi standing beside you. You let out a quiet squeak as you clambered to your feet. “Yes, sir, captain Levi.” You gave him a quick salute. 

Levi almost found himself smiling at your sudden formality. It was cute seeing a different side of you. He averted your gaze but quickly looked back at you when his eyes fell on Jean. He was reminded it wasn’t just you at the table. “I need to speak with you.” He didn’t wait for a response as he began heading outside.

You gave the pair an apologetic smile before running off behind the captain. You walked in silence for a while, enjoying the cool autumn breeze blowing between the both of you. “Is something the matter, captain?”

Levi shook his head but remained quiet. The look in his eyes was strangely shy, something you didn’t even know he was capable of. It was almost like he was just as nervous as you were. You pressed the thought out of your head. “T-thank you-,,” he stopped in his tracks and turned to face you, “-for all the teas. I still won’t let you join my squad.”

“I know, that’s not why I do it.” You pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Silence enveloped you once again, giving you time to admire his features. He was gorgeous under the moonlight. The little light somehow accentuated his strong jawline to the point where it almost rivaled commander Erwin’s. His usually lackluster eyes sparkled like the stars above. 

Unbeknown to you, he was admiring you just the same. Part of him wished your hair was down again, hoping to see the way your curls frame your face. You had an untouchable innocence in your eyes, the same eyes he always found himself getting drunk off of. He stopped himself once his thoughts began to go back to his first encounter with you, reminding him of how you felt in his arms. You were right, his arm did feel at home around your waist. 

“There’s no point in having any relationship,” Levi eventually said more to himself than to you. “Either of us could die to those bastards at any moment, and I’m probably older than you think.”

You failed to hold back your giggles as a cocky smile pressed in over your lips. “I never said anything about a relationship either, captain. You came to that conclusion all on your own. Who’s to say I’m even interested? Maybe I’m just really nice.”

Levi took a challenging step closer, “You’re not.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a cocky smirk. “I wasn’t born yesterday-.”

“Oh, I know, old man,” you quipped, taking your own step forward. 

“Tch. Dumb brat, a few cups of tea isn’t going to get me to fall for you.”

You closed the small gap between you, leaving barely enough room for the wind between you. Your body yearned to be closer to the warmth that radiated from him. “All your stares say otherwise. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve liked me since we first met, captian.”

He leaned down until you could feel his breath on your lips. Every inch of his body craved you. Against his better judgment, he wrapped an arm around your waist. The air between you was electric, only helping to light every inch of your body on fire. He pulled you flush against him, relishing the feeling of having you in his arms again. It was too much like a dream to him. A dream he felt he desperately needed to wake up from. “It’s a good thing you know better.” With that, he walked away. 

You were left hanging, the cool autumn breeze feeling more like an arctic chill now. You wanted to yell or pull him back towards you, but instead, you stood there mentally throwing a fit like a child who didn’t get their way. 

You took your time getting back to your room, forcing yourself to go to sleep as soon as you sat on your bed. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep. Levi invaded your thoughts. You weren’t sure when or how, but you eventually drifted off into sleep. 

The next morning you prepped for the 57th Expedition despite the heaviness in your eyes. 

“Geez, you look dead,” Jean chuckled as he helped you up onto your horse. His hand stayed a little longer on your hip than necessary, but you chose not to say anything. He waited until you were completely situated before removing his hand. 

“Yeah, you’ve got more eye bags than captain Levi,” Connie laughed as he hopped onto his horse beside you. 

You rolled your eyes, probably closing them longer than necessary. “Shut up.” You pulled your hood over your eyes, “stop goofing off and focus on the mission. 

“Ah, Y/n, right,” an unfamiliar voice called out to you. Their footsteps quickly approached you, stopping short by the side of your horse. You looked in their direction, greeted by Hange with an eerily cheeky smile. It was like looking at a child with a secret who desperately wanted to spill. “Glad I could catch you.”

“C-captain Hange!” You quickly removed your hood with a bashful smile. “Yes, that’s right.”

Hange’s smile grew wider, causing you to glance at Connie and Jean for some sort of help. “I was told to come wake up a certain brat.” They handed you the steaming cup of tea carefully. 

You tried to hide your blush behind the cup as you drank quickly. It wasn’t the best tea you’ve ever had, but it certainly got the job done. With every sip, you could feel yourself gaining a little more energy to carry you through the day. Your mind wandered to Levi, probably already in his formation. After last night you thought he wouldn’t want to ever talk to you again, yet here he was sending you a cup of tea. You handed back the cup with a thankful smile, “guess he’s a softie after all.”

Hange laughed and shook their head, “I’ve met titans easier to understand than you two. Don’t go dying on him out there, rookie.” With that, Hange left, finding their place in the formation. 

The warmth from the tea didn’t last you long. Things quickly went to shit. It was arguably worse than the Battle of Trost. Everyone knew to wear their hoods to conceal their identities, but they didn’t know exactly why until she showed up. The female titan wiped out forces in the blink of an eye, but no retreat was called. Instead, you were ordered to perch the branches of the Titan Forest, acting as a distraction. Countless soldiers were lost, including all of Captain Levi’s squad except for Eren, before an eventual retreat was called. 

Upon arrival, the scouts were ordered to turn in Eren, but you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to care. Not when you had heard the word of Levi being injured. Your mind went into a frenzy with panic. You just needed to see him. You needed to know how badly he was injured. You needed to see for yourself he was okay. 

Without thinking, you barged into Levi’s quarters, only to run directly into Commander Erwin’s solid chest. You quickly stepped back, muttering various sorries despite the amused sound that left the commander. You didn’t waste any time making your way into the room once Erwin walked off.

“Knocking does exist, brat-” Levi was cut off by you flinging your arms around his neck. He couldn’t do this, not now. He couldn’t let himself indulge in the butterflies in his stomach or the soothing feeling of your embrace. He had just lost his entire squad, and the mission was a disaster. He didn’t have time for this right now. Levi lifted his hands to push you away but stopped short at the quiet sound of your sniffling. 

“I was- I.” You couldn’t seem to find the right words. Part of you wanted to thank him for the tea, while the other wanted to let him know how worried you were about him. You wanted to tell him that as inconsiderate as it might be, all you could do out there was hope he was still alive. Instead, you clung to Levi, your heart pouring itself out through your eyes and onto his ascot. You could feel his rigid frame slowly melting into your embrace.

Levi’s breaths grew labored as the embrace carried on. It was like he could feel all of your emotions, the grief, the relief, the guilt. He felt everything, and it mixed with his own feelings. He forced himself to muster enough strength to gently push you away by the shoulders. He wanted you to be upset, to stop this stupid display of affection that sent his heart into overtime.

“I-I told you already, dumb brat, that I don’t like you.”

“Then stop me,” you whispered with a wavering voice.You were done playing games. The vast number of comrades that were slaughtered by the female titan reminded you just how close everyone was to death. You’d be damned if you died before getting this opportunity. Slowly you closed the distance between your lips until you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. “Tell me that cup wasn’t from you. Tell me I was alone in hoping you were safe while we were out there.” You hated how your voice was breaking with each statement. “Tell me I’m the only one who’s heart is about to leap out of their chest.” You nervously pressed your lips against his, relishing in his warmth.

Levi responded instantly, kissing you with a bruising force. Desire for you took over every thought until he yearned nothing more than to touch and be touched. He squeezes your hips possessively, pulling you flush against him. He couldn’t tell you any of those things, and you knew it. He sent you the cup at a point of weakness. Even as he fought the female titan, you managed to invade his thoughts until he had half a mind to go look for you. He wanted to protect you with the same ardor Mikasa had to protect Eren. You had somehow seen past his stoic walls, and it only fueled his hunger for you. 

Your hands fumbled with his ascot, stepping back once you set his neck free from it. You watched his eyes darken with an almost lustful look as you wrapped the piece of fabric into a bow around your ponytail. A quiet groan escaped his lips as your lips devoured his now exposed neck. Every nip and open mouth kiss made him weak in the knees, completely forgetting the dull pain in his ankle.

“You’re the only cup of tea I need.” The words fell from his kiss swollen lips before they even registered in his brain.

You broke into a bashful smile, his words stirring up a new kind of giddiness inside of you. “That was the cheesiest yet cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” You halted your assault on his neck to look up at him, “I didn’t think you had it in you. It almost puts my comment about coming close to death so you can sweep me off my feet to shame.” You pecked his lips as his usual annoyed expression returned. “Kinda sounds like you like me, Captain.”

“Get out,” Levi grumbled embarrassedly, causing you to giggle. The sound was equivalent to a clean room, filling him with a sense of pride and happiness. He could feel his ears burning as if someone was holding a flame to them. 

“Not until you tell me if I’m just any cup or your cup.”

“Relationships are pointless,” Levi answered. The look in your eye told him you weren’t going to let him rest until he gave a straight answer. “I’d like it if you were mine.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, “I know. And for the record, I’d like if you were mine too,” you called over your shoulder as you walked out the door. 

You had already left the hall by the time Levi noticed you left with his ascot still tied around your ponytail. His usually private persona was pushed out the window by a sense of pride. You were his and that ascot made it clear as day.

Your new hair accessory and Levi’s suddenly missing ascot didn’t go unnoticed at dinner. Nor did the marks on Levi’s neck that Hange kept eyeing and giggling about. 

Levi could feel a smile threatening to spread across his lips as you walked with him back to his quarters after everyone left the Mess hall. You didn’t even let him go near his desk, carefully pushing him towards his bed as you fussed about him needing rest. Humanity’s strongest soldier was being babied by a brat with a big mouth and a bigger heart. 

Levi chuckled to himself as you climbed into bed with him. He hesitantly allowed you to pull him into your arms. He pressed his forehead against yours as he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. He absentmindedly twirled one of your still damp curls around his finger. A comfortable silence filled the room as you both admired each other. You slid your free hand into his, lacing your fingers together. You pressed your lips to his knuckles as you came to the quiet realization that he was going to be your new reason to live. Being beside him felt like a breath of fresh air and you promised yourself you would do everything you could to hold onto him. You were going to see the world outside of the walls with him. 

He didn’t expect it, but your soothing touch lulled him into one of the best periods of sleep he’s had in years. Every time he woke up, you were still there with your hand in his. You made him think of a life outside of this normal. A life with you at his side as his wife and the mother of his children. Levi pulled you closer as he drifted back to sleep. You were going to be the death of him, and in a titan filled world, he couldn’t think of any better way to go.

[thinkillwatchitburn]

Heyaa! Can ya do a Beni x reader first impression please!

Heya anon!!!! Thank you so much for reaching out to me!! 🥰

So, I just wanna say I have a very over-analytical brain and so any not-super-specific-requests seem to kind of get away from me? So I hope I’m able to answer this satisfactorily for you!!

Beni x Reader - First Impression

Aight so Imma write this as word-vomit cause I really do want to answer this, and I don’t want to get all caught up in my head, SO:

I imagine it’s hard for Beni to be especially impressed by *anyone* honestly, at least until someone catches his attention.

I used to get hung up on the idea that only sheer power would catch Beni’s attention - but the more I think about it, the more I doubt that.

Like yeah, he’s DEFINITELY impressed by sheer power, especially if it’s something that can challenge his own. He likes a good fight, we all know that.

But.... we never really get much of an opportunity to see Benimaru outside of his role as Leader, Trainer, Most-Skilled. The Destroyer King of Asakusa.

But also.... lets be honest, he’s not super in love with the idea of that title. He begrudgingly accepts it because it’s kind of been behooved to him, he’s inherited it, as the most ~pyrokinetically powerful~ of the Asakusa residents, privileged to be trained by Asauka’s Defender himself, Hibachi. He was the chosen one, he AND Konro always knew that - maybe especially Konro. Beni always, always felt that pressure - and when Konro suffered injuries that left him physically incapable of running Asakusa and the Hikeshi - Jesus I can imagine that panic attack.

He’s been put in the HIGHLY unfortunate position of both having TOO much expected of you, and being ~actually~ overly-capable but terrified of your own power and competency. I’ve been there - oh man. It’s ROUGH, and it really does feel like nobody really understands - half the people think you’re underestimating yourself, the other half are jealous, expect too much, and won’t give you a chance no matter what you do.

ANYWAYYYYYYY, sorry I go way off on tangents.

It would definitely depend on *who* the person is that he’s meeting, but in general - he’s not impressed by many people. Personally I think he’s so wrapped up in feeling overwhelmed by everything expected of him and over-analyzing everything in his own head that he’s really not impressed by much of ~anything~. Yeah, strength and power is cool, and if you could knock his ass back and make him feel actual pain it would definitely give him PAUSE - but what would really catch his attention is the little things.

Maybe he sees you interacting with a group of Asakusa orphans, listening and treating them with the same respect you would adults. He knows first-hand what it feels like being one of those young, “futureless” street rats - and to see someone be so nurturing, accepting, respectful. It touches him in ways he was UTTERLY unprepared for.

Maybe he sees you interacting with animals, understanding their feelings without a sound exchanged between the two of you, your kindness and pure intentions translated throughout species.

Maybe he sees you interacting with the beleaguered of his streets, people nobody would ever bother or dare to take a second glance at - the same people he might offer a shot of Sake to share with him, knowing he sees them more thoroughly than most ever will. Sex workers, “drug” dealers, “criminals” - after all, the Hikeshi is literally made up of gang members, criminals, and otherwise thugs who have NO respect for authority, but EVERY respect for a man with morals and a defensible cause, like fighting fires, extinguishing Infernals who were once their friends, and protecting the people they love.

No matter what it is, he sees something special in you that he hasn’t in any outsider in a long time. He knows his people, he’s confident there’s not a single individual among the population of his city that he doesn’t know, hasn’t seen through, inside of, behind, above, and in between. I firmly believe he perceives SO MUCH more than he’d ever let on. He works too hard to protect himself and put up a nonchalant front for me to believe he isn’t actually HYPER aware of his surroundings and all the people inside them.

He feels comfortable, heard, SEEN. I feel like he’s fairly used to people admiring his handsome face or his sweet physique. He’s no stranger to physical attraction and lust. I feel like he likely shares his body pretty freely, especially with the deep understanding he has of his own people - he’d know who’s “safe.” Who’s “fun,” nothing too serious or heavy. He’s always looking for a good time - or a nap. LOL

ANYWAY - I’m so sorry, I get SO sidetracked with these things 😂🤦🏻‍♀️

TLDR I guess is that Beni is honestly impressed and intrigued by a wide array of things, honestly I think anything you feel especially confident/proficient in, when he sees how skilled you really are he’s gonna just fall all over himself. Despite his otherworldly talents, he’s really a simple man. He has simple needs and wants, and he’s impressed by what catches his eye. I feel confident, if it were in the real world, he would 100% feel the fact that you are a good match for him and he’d be impressed by whatever skill/talent you have to offer, no matter how insignificant you might feel it is. And honestly, to have Beni’s admiration is just the best, most validating feeling in the world, ESPECIALLY knowing he’s not really especially impressed by much at all. I feel like when he finally finds that person who catches his eye - it doesn’t matter how mundane or “Silly” you feel your particular talents/interests are, he’s going to be utterly ~fascinated~; #1. Cause it’s so different from what he’s used to (traditional, edo-period japan, I still have a lot to look up but it’s generally pretty minimalist from what I’ve seen; also brute-strength visa-vie Konro and Hibachi); #2. They’re so genuine. If anybody else said the words they said he’d be sure they were absolutely full of shit, but the more he hears the more he understands what those words, when they’re really meant, actually sound like. You give him a reason to trust.

That really wasn’t TLDR and I am SUPER sorry about that.... but I really wanted to answer your request 🥺 I hope it’s what you were looking for!!! Of course, if you have any more suggestions, comments, complaints, my inbox is ALWAYS open and I am ALWAYS happy to. hear from you guys!!!

[ahgasecaratfromn-city]

Ten Things I Hate About You

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader ft. Haechan, Johnny and mention of Jeno

Words: 7.7k

Genre: Fluff, the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, college au

Warning: Tiniest bit of cursing, kissing, family issues, anxiety attack

Summary: You never had the luxury of selecting who you were going to tutor, so when you paired with the only person you disliked, Lee Mark, you couldn’t help but formulate a list of the ten things you hated about him.

A/N: Okay so, I will admit this is longer than I anticipated, my bad. Mark has been stuck in my head and this was my way of getting him out. Basically, each part is a snip bit/ scene from the day named in bold.  *This is very very very minimally edited 

“Who the hell is that?” was not the most flattering thing someone could say when being given a free tutor. Hell, it wasn’t a flattering thing to say under any circumstance. Yet, there you were, walking slowly towards your literature class’s resident idiot, Mark.

“Me, I’m Y/N,” he looked you up and down, frowning slightly before looking back at the professor. The boy seemed to always believe that his opinions mattered to anyone but himself. He was always screaming his misconstrued thoughts during class or more likely not showing up at all, and everything about him seemed to piss you off.

Maybe it was the way he spoke to people, always assuming he was in the right. Or, maybe it was the fact that he spoke period, always rambling about absolutely nothing while the class was engaged in relevant and important conversation. More likely, it was the permanent grin etched on his face, as if nothing could touch him, not even the failing grade he was receiving in this class.

“Mark, this is quite literally your last shot because there is seriously nothing else I can do for you,” you tuned out the rest of the conversation, only raising an eyebrow once you heard that Mark wouldn’t be able to pass without a certain score on the final.

“And you really should thank Y/N, there are other students she could be helping,” your eyes shot up at the mention of your name, blushing lightly as the men looked at you.

It wasn’t as if you had volunteered to tutor Mark specifically. You had been tutoring since high school and figured it was the perfect work-study job to take up. Except you didn’t choose who to tutor, only which subjects. Unfortunately, literature happened to be one of them, and Mark happened to suck at it.

“Now, both of you get out of here,” he pointed to the doorway with a slight smirk on his face as Mark trudged away clearly annoyed.

“We can work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until the test. We can meet up at the library,” you offered, following after the boy who seemed to only quicken his pace. Jerk.

“Not Friday, that’s a busy day,” he shrugged, looking at everything but you. 

“The test is three weeks from today and judging by your, uhm previous scores, you need all the time you can get,” the boy whipped around at that statement, raising his brow at you. You didn’t understand why he seemed so shocked, you were only telling the truth.

“Fine, catch you later,” His eyes were looking behind you, focused on something else before he finally walked away from you. 

That was another thing that bothered you, he never made eye contact. It was like no one was worth the time of day to him. 

“What are you looking at,” A familiar arm snaked its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as you prepared to go home. You smelled the familiar scent of aftershave and light cologne that immediately brought a smile to your face.

“You’ll never guess who I have to tutor,” you looked up at your best friend, Haechan, grinning at his confused face. Haechan had been your best friend since you were kids in the sandbox and since then, wherever he was you were likely right beside him.

“Let’s go eat, and you can tell me all about it,” He spun you around, walking you towards the exit.

-

“Maybe you’re being too hard on him,” the boy suggested, playing with his food before taking a bite. That was his habit whenever you ate together, he would mull over his food as if building a masterpiece before devouring an entire plate in a few bites.

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows at the statement. 

“I mean, I dunno, maybe don’t judge a book by its cover and stuff,” A slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized how cringey what he had said was. His eyes met yours for a split second before you both let out a few synchronized chuckles.

“That was so bad, Chan,” you reached over to poke his cheek, laughing even harder as his cheeks became a deeper shade of red.

“I mean seriously, can you even name ten things you don’t like about him?” He asked, suddenly raising his brows in a challenging manner.

“Honestly, I could name ten things I hate about him,” you admitted, taking a bite of your food to punctuate your point. He only shook his head in disapproval as a response before continuing.

“Get back to me in a few weeks, I bet you’ll even end up friends. He seems nice from what I’ve heard” he sent a knowing wink your way before calling the waitress over.

As he began talking to the waitress, his question was still lingering in your mind. Ten things you hated about Mark. You already had certain attributes running around in your head, but you wondered how many more you were going to add to your list. 

          1.��I hate that he is inconsiderate

           [Monday]

It was only the first day of your study sessions with Mark, and of course he was late. You were sitting at your usual table in the corner of the library, checking your phone for the nth time. He was almost an hour late and you were anything but surprised. The boy didn’t strike you as the type to keep his word.

“Hey, tutor girl,” The voice struck you from your thoughts, coming from someone you didn’t think you’d see today.

“Mark,” You nodded towards the seat across from you, opening the textbook you had sat in front of you. The boy sat silently, a smug grin painted across his face as he looked at you, eyes focused above your head. 

“I had something pop up, sorry about that man,” even his apologies were insincere and annoying. You almost wanted to toss the coffee drink in his hands into the trash, but you found it in yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Whatever, let's just get started,” He nodded in response, glancing down at your textbook with a look of uncertainty, “Did you bring your textbook?” It was then that you realized that he hadn’t brought anything with him, not even a pencil. Of course he was unprepared.

“It’s fine, use mine,” You turned yours around towards him before pointing towards a specific chapter. He nodded in response before flicking his eyes back up in your general direction.

“Today, we’ll start with the basics of analyzing a text. We’ll do ethos, pathos, and logos. It’s pretty simple but it’s gonna help with the essay portion,” You rambled on for a few minutes about the basis of arguments and speeches. His eyes were in the book but you couldn't tell if he was understanding or not. Throughout your explanation, you could see his leg shaking and his fingers tapping on the table. 

“Is there anything you want me to go over?” his eyes were still glued to the book as he looked back up at you. He was smiling, as usual, but something about the look in his eye told you that he was utterly confused. 

“No, Uh, I think I understand,” His taps became a bit more intense until he realized you were watching him and stopped. 

“It’s okay if you don't,” you said mindlessly, “I’m here to help,” as much as you weren’t a fan of Mark, you wanted him to do well. It was a part of the reason you liked tutoring. Seeing someone work hard for something, and helping them get there was one of the best feelings in the world.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, smiling wider. You didn’t understand why he didn’t just say he needed help since it was literally your job, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Let’s go over it one more time, for my sake,” you went over the material again, using more examples, even some from popular music to explain the definitions he didn’t understand.

“I mean, I already understood, but I get it, more,” He said sheepishly, rubbing his face in his hand. You smiled a bit at the light pink color growing on his cheeks as you switched subjects.

“Okay, I believe you. We have some more material to cover though. Since you’re picking it up so quickly,” you smirked at the last statement, flipping the textbook in front of him to the correct page. You ignored his groan of despair, instead continuing the lesson you had planned.

You had believed after the first lesson, he might be easy to work with, but eventually, you were proved wrong. Mark was an absolute menace. His incessant taps on the table, glances around the room, random babbling, and absolute lack of interest in what you said, was pissing you off. Even the librarian had walked over to tell him to be quiet.

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s been thirty minutes, Mark,” you rolled your eyes, pointing back at the sheet in front of you. He seemed to lose focus often, so you decided making him take notes might help.

“I know, but honestly my brain is full,” he whined, sending puppy dog eyes your way. Usually, you would have been able to say no, but his puckered lip and innocent eyes were beginning to sway you. 

“Fine, ten minutes,” you gave in to a smiling mark, who shot his fist up in excitement. He leaned back in his chair, looking into space with a look you couldn’t decipher. He was visibly deep in thought and you were beginning to feel very awkward as time went on.

“Tutor girl, yeah she’s tutoring me

 I wanna go home cause that’s the place to be,

Wherever I am, the vibe is nice,

Cause I’m cool like ice,” he went on and on rambling random rhymes with the biggest smile on his face. Nothing would have made you happier than saying that it sounded terrible, and while the rhymes themselves were ridiculous, his voice had a certain addictive vibe that made you want to keep listening.

He suddenly stopped, grinning at your lack of words “Shocked into silence, they say I have that effect on people,” he smirked nonchalantly eliciting a groan of annoyance from you.

“I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but your ten minutes are up,” 

“What! It’s been like three at most,” he complained, dropping his head in annoyance.

“Well, at least stop being so loud,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, who lit up once again. 

You sat in silence for a few seconds before he finally spoke, “Why are you so uptight, tutor girl?” The nickname was really beginning to bug you and so was the boy sitting across from you.

“I have a name you know,” you finally comment, ignoring his question. You were fiddling with your fingers under the table, doing anything to keep your mind off of the uncomfortable question he had asked.

“I know, Y/N,” Your eyes shot up at the mention of your name, almost giving you whiplash. 

“So, why do you call me that?” 

“It’s just a nickname,” he shrugged lightly before beginning to beatbox. He was like a child with the shortest attention span you had seen on anyone above the age of fifteen.

“It’s definitely been ten minutes now,” you pushed his paper towards him before beginning the next lesson.

            2. I hate that he really is a mystery

                 [thursday]

“I’ve never been here,” You commented, looking up at your very tall friend, Johnny opening the door for you. He was a few years older than you but you ended up bonding through the tutoring center you both worked at.

The building was a typical cafe with a warm mocha toned interior. It had bookcases lining one wall with two big grandpa chairs watching over the small tables littered around the room. The place was relatively empty, with only a few people taking up two tables near the bookshelves. It was super cozy and inviting which made you question why you hadn’t been there sooner.

“Really? A lot of people from school come here,” you only nodded in response, following the boy towards the register. 

Once inside, you immediately walked to the baked goods section, eyeing the various desserts.  

You were glad Johnny called. You had been stressed out, from your mom riding you about job applications, classes reaching finals time, tutoring Mark, etc etc. It felt like as you got older the weight on your shoulders got heavier and heavier. Everyone in your life needed you to decide on your future and you just weren’t there yet. You couldn't even decide on a pastry let alone where you wanted to be in ten years. 

“Are you ready to order?” Johnny tapped your shoulder, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Sure,” you nodded, masking the sadness the thoughts had brought on.

You watched as the older boy tapped the service bell before peering over the counter.  “Someone’s coming,” he said, leaning back.

“Hey Johnny, what can I get ya today,” the familiar voice caused your eyes to bulge as you looked up at the owner.

“Tutor girl?” 

“Mark,” you mumbled quietly, nodding in his direction. It seemed as if your problems followed you everywhere.

“You two know each other?”Johnny asked with a grin.

Mark answered quickly “We take lit together,” you frowned at the lack of mentioning the fact that you were his tutor. 

“Ah okay,”

“How do you two know each other?” you asked, only half caring.

“We’ve been friends since his freshman year,” The older boy explained.

“Anyway, what do you want bro?” Mark asked informally, smile bright as he got ready to punch the buttons on the screen in front of him.

“I’ll have an americano, give me like two extra shots,” Johnny looked at you, waiting for your order as Mark tapped on the screen.

“Can I get an americano and a chocolate croissant,” 

“Sure,” the younger boy said absentmindedly.

Johnny reached into his wallet before you could even say anything, looking down at you with a “don’t argue” look. You were used to him paying whenever you went out together or even with other friends, even though you always put up a fight.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark said, pushing Johnny’s card back at him, “on the house,” he explained.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah don’t worry about it,”

“Thank you,” you smiled sincerely, surprised by the gesture.

“He never pays for me,” Johnny said, chuckling as if it were an inside joke before he began looking for a seat.

He finally selected a table in the corner with two chairs beside it, right next to a window. You sat down in the chair, giving the place a once over again. Something had caught your eye this time. You watched as the dark-haired boy darted around behind the register, preparing your drinks expertly. 

“I didn’t know he worked here,” You mumbled absentmindedly, still watching the boy work.

“Yeah, he works at a restaurant too,” Johnny commented, smiling knowingly in your direction. You furrowed your brows as you looked back at him. You didn’t know he had one job, let alone two. 

“Oh,” was all you said, leaving it at that. It seemed like Mark really was a mystery to you. You knew virtually nothing about him. Something about that fact gave you an unsettling feeling that you were too stubborn to think about any further.

             3. I hate that he asks too many questions

                  [Friday]

“I don’t want to gooo,” you whined, fighting against Haechan who was currently pushing you towards the library.

“It’s only the third day. You’re such a baby,” You could practically hear his eyes roll as he stopped in front of the door. He had given you a ride to the library, as he always would if he had time.

“Am not,”

“Are too,” 

“Am not,”

“Are too,” 

“Am not,” Despite how childish it was, you literally stamped your foot, leading to a laughing fit from the two of you. 

“I can’t believe you,” he sighed, lightly shoving you.

“I’m very mature though, on a serious-,” you suddenly stopped speaking as you noticed he wasn’t looking at you anymore, “what is it?” you turned on your heel only to be met with the infamous boy himself.

“Am I too early?” he looked down at his phone with furrowed brows before looking back at you. 

“No, you’re actually on time,” you didn’t mean to come off as passive-aggressive but judging from Mark’s raised brows, you did.

You watched as Haechan reached out to shake Mark’s hand with a friendly smile and a quick mutter of his name. Mark responded by smiling awkwardly before finally reciprocating the gesture. “I’m Mark,” he introduced himself with his world-famous grin before flicking his gaze in your direction.

It was silent for a few moments before Haechan finally said something, “I’ll leave you guys to it,” he smiled one last time, sending you a mischievous look before leaving the two of you alone.

“You ready?” he asked, reaching up to grab the nape of his neck awkwardly. You quickly noticed the Jansport backpack he was sporting. It was a small thing but something about the fact that he came prepared made you feel weird.

“Uhh, yeah,” you opened the door to the library, walking quickly to the usual spot in the corner, Mark trudging quietly behind you.

“I made some flashcards for you,” You began, reaching into your bag and pulling out the index cards that you had put on a binder ring.

“Thanks,” he took the cards from your hand with a smile.

“So that guy’s your boyfriend?” he asked casually while shuffling through the cards.

You jaw all but dropped in shock as you fumbled to find the right words, “absolutely not,” you finally said, “he’s like a brother,” you clarified, waiting for his reaction.

The question made you feel uneasy coming from his mouth. It seemed random and very odd considering neither one of you had ever discussed anything personal.

“Oh, okay. You seem close,” he commented, continuing to look through the flashcards.

“We are, but uh, today lets just talk about your essay structure,” you changed the subject promptly, noticing the grin that was solidifying on his face.

Ten minutes later you could already tell he was distracted, judging by his taps on the table that were rapidly reaching a fever pitch.

He looked in your direction suddenly, “What do you want to do, tutor girl, like after graduation” 

Mark asked you the question like it was the most casual thing to say, like it was comparable to “how was your day” or “what kind of coffee do you like.” No one had really asked you that before, what you wanted to do.

“uh, I’m not sure honestly,” you were unsure of why you were even entertaining the conversation. Had it been asked a few days ago you might have just rolled your eyes and answered with the generic response you had been trained to use.

“Really? You seem like the type to plan everything a hundred steps ahead,” 

You quirked your eyebrow up in surprise “What’s that supposed to mean,” 

A light blush found its way onto his cheeks as he stumbled over his words, “No, it’s just that you, like, seem put together, like you know what you want,” he clarified.

The notion confused you to an extent. You never knew what you wanted. You had spent so long doing what people told you that you should do, that you barely even thought about what you wanted. Honestly speaking, you had only started tutoring because your mother told you it would look good on college applications. You had just so happened to actually end up enjoying it. That was the real reason you always did everything the same way and were what Mark called ‘uptight’.

“I don’t,” you admitted, “I have a hard time knowing what I want,” you trailed off quietly before asking him the same question.

“I want to pursue music, but I’m not sure if it’s practical,” he said shrugging.

“It isn’t practical,” you agreed, smiling lightly at the shocked face Mark sent you, “but if it’s something you want to do, it’s worth trying,” you finished, watching as Mark let out a breath. 

He sighed, “I wish it were that easy,” his table tapping picked up a slow pace. You nodded in agreement, realizing that you were in a similar predicament. “Well, what do you like to do?” he asked suddenly.

“You ask a lot of questions,” you replied simply, playing with the seam of your jeans.

             4. I hate that he’s unbelievably stubborn

                   [Monday]

“Mark, honestly we can just reschedule,” You watched as the boy shook his head, jumping from his previous position.

“No, I’m fine,” he shook his head a few times before gesturing in your direction for you to continue.

The boy kept nodding off throughout your lesson and showing obvious signs that he was in no way capable of learning anything. His eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept all weekend, his eye bags were at least three shades darker than usual, and most importantly he wasn’t making any noises at all. Not even his usual incessant table taps.

“Mark, you did pretty well on the practice quiz, you can take the day off,” you tried to reason with the boy whose eyes were barely open. It looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open.

“No no, y/n,” him using your real name made you feel weird and told you that he was definitely not in the right mind. “You came all the way here, let’s just start,” 

You chuckled lightly at his groggy and barely comprehensible voice as you closed your books. 

“Why are you so tired anyway? Did you work over the weekend?” you found yourself actually curious about his answer, not just asking something random for the sake of it not being awkward.

He answered simply, trying his best to hide a yawn, “yep,” 

You shook your head disapprovingly before finally speaking, “Alright this is what we’re going to do. One more practice test and then please go home and do us both a favor and go to sleep,” 

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” he admitted, sitting upright.

“You’re more of an inconvenience this way because I can't tutor someone who can’t even spell their own name,” I tapped on the corner of his notes, where he had written his name as “mar” leaving the last letter off.

“Fine,” he said finally, lifting his hoodie off of his head.

“You’re so god damn stubborn,” you whispered mostly to yourself.

“I can hear you, y’know,” you smiled at his remark before setting a practice test in front of him.

               5. I hate that he sees what no one else does

                     [Friday]

“Yes, mom,” you paused for a moment, waiting for your mother’s usual rant about how you never did anything right, and how at your age she was already starting her own business, yada yada, the usual. 

“I know,” pause, “I sent them out last week, remember?” pause, “I will,”

“Hey, tutor girl,” Mark greeted, taking his usual seat in front of you. He had a concerned look on his face as he noticed you were on the phone having an unpleasant conversation.

You pulled the phone away from your face, “I’ll be right back,” you shot him a small generic smile before walking outside of the building.

“Y/N if you don’t get it together, I’m going to-” your mother’s voice could be heard despite the fact that you had pulled the phone away from your face.

“I’m in the middle of a tutoring session, I have to call you back later,” you interrupted, pressing the hang-up button soon after.

You took a few long breaths before plastering a smile onto your face and walking back inside the building. You could feel Mark’s eyes on you as you walked towards him trying your best to keep up a strong facade.

“Are you okay,” the concern in his voice as you looked at him almost wiped the smile off of your face.

“I’m fine, let’s get started,”

“It’s okay if you’re not. You can tell me about it,” he paused for a few moments, tapping on the table as he usually did, “I can tell you’re you aren’t,” 

“It’s nothing, let’s just start,” you waved your hand in dismissal.

“If that’s what you want,” he phrased it more like a question than a statement.

“So, today let’s talk about how point of view affects the entire story,” you began your explanation, the fake smile long gone as you gave examples from the required reading. Mark seemed only half interested in what you were saying, which was usually normal, except today you could feel his eyes glued to your face while yours were in the book as you gestured to certain sentences. 

You were not in the mood for his antics and as time passed he was truly starting to bug you. “What!? What are you looking at?” you whisper-yelled in his direction. You found yourself feeling immediately guilty as the boy looked at you in complete and utter shock. His lips had slightly parted into an ‘o’ shape and his brows were slightly raised. His cheeks had even begun turning into a deep red.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” he mumbled, trailing off at the end.

You raised your hand to your head, feeling a headache coming on, “no, I’m sorry. Honestly, I’m a little stressed out,” you admitted.

“It’s okay, you can talk to me about it. Like, if you want,” he looked at you expectantly, with a concerned expression adorning his face.

“It’s just my mom. She has a lot of expectations for me. It’s stressful sometimes, y’know,” he nodded at your words, waiting for you to continue, “It’s overwhelming. I don’t really know what to do. It’s like she’s been controlling my life for so long that I don’t even know what I want to do without her telling me,” you finished. 

It felt good letting it all out, and for some reason, you felt comfortable telling Mark about it. He seemed to really listen to you, like he actually cared. 

“Have you ever talked to her about it?” he asked.

“No, she’s not the best listener,” he nodded again.

“Then I think right now all you can do is try to figure out what you actually want for yourself. Like what’s something you really want to do? Like bucket list stuff,” he asked with wide eyes.

“I dunno, maybe a road trip,” you said the first thing that came to mind, mentally slapping yourself at how lame the answer was. “I’ve never really been anywhere,” you explained simply. “Kind of lame,”

He shook his head, “It's not lame if it’s something you want.” You only nodded in response.

“What you want is important, Y/N. Even if you don't know exactly what that is yet.”

               6. I hate that he is everywhere

                     [monday]

“It’s not my fault,” Haechan rolled his eyes at your shocked expression as he spoke.

“Haechan,” you said slowly, “I really shouldn’t have to explain it to you,” you shook your head in his direction. 

You were walking down the main commons area in your school, killing time before your next class.

“If someone says to you, hey! Can I borrow your hanger, how am I supposed to guess that they’ll-” he stopped speaking suddenly, a smile breaking out on his face, “look there’s your boy,” he nodded slightly in the direction ahead of you.

You looked up, almost immediately spotting Mark. He was smiling brightly as he spoke to a girl beside him. She looked to be familiar, maybe from the year below you. You watched as they laughed together, heads falling back as if they were in a movie. You had to admit, they made a cute couple.

“He’s not my boy,” you shoved your friend with light force, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest.

“Don’t worry, pretty sure she’s dating Jeno. Actually no, I’m super sure, every time I see them, they’re sucking face,” he grimaces at the notion, furrowing his brows tightly as if remembering the image vividly.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, “Why would I worry?”

“Okay, y/n,” he matched your expression, shrugging in the same way you did.

            7. I hate that his car smells just like him

                   [Tuesday]

“No it’s fine, I’ll just find a way home,” you glanced at Mark, whose eyes were on you already. “No, Haechan don’t worry about it. I’ll text you later,” you hung the phone up and looked up at the boy ahead of you.

After you opened up to Mark the previous week, he had begun taking a seat next to you in class. It seemed like you had become friends, or acquaintances at least. That felt weird to even think about. You and Mark were friends? No, acquaintances, you were just acquaintances. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, gathering his belongings.

“Yea, I just have to walk home,” you answered absentmindedly before standing.

“I can, like, give you a ride,” he offered nonchalantly, standing in front of you.

“You drive?”

He smirked at the question, “just got a new car,” 

“Okay then, if it’s no trouble,” you agreed, nodding at him. It was super weird how comfortable you were around him now. There were still things you very much disliked about him, but getting to know him had shown you that there were some things you hadn’t known at all.

“Alright,” he smiled in your general direction before leading the way. You had grown used to his quick pace, keeping up with ease now. 

“It’s nice right,” he pats the old black car lightly, as if he was afraid something would fall off. 

“Super nice,” you agreed with a grin.

You both walked to your respective sides and slid into your seats quietly. You were immediately hit with the smell of watermelon air freshener and the cologne Mark usually wore. 

“You can put your address in,” he pointed to the GPS on the car and you promptly typed it in.

There was a lasting awkward silence after that, Mark focusing diligently on driving while you were focused on counting the red cars that went by. You wondered how long it would take for someone to say something. Eventually, Mark just put on the radio, hoping to fill the silence.

He winced slightly at the country song that began playing, “You wanna hear one of my songs,” he said suddenly, a small smile accompanying his words.

“Sure,” you were actually curious, seeing as you had never heard him rap seriously, only hearing his mumbles when he was bored.

“Press the acronym one,” he said, handing you his phone, eyes still trained on the road. It was almost comical how focused he was while driving whereas during tutoring sessions he was always distracted.

“Que-tay, uhm, qwe-ta,” you tried pronouncing the acronym, eliciting a laughing fit from Mark. His laugh was so innocent you couldn’t help but smile along even though you didn’t know what was so funny.

“Key-tah,” he finally said with a smile.

“Ah,” you nodded, turning the volume up.

The song started off subtly, with a chill beat that matched the atmosphere in the car. You could see Mark’s light blush peeking from your peripheral as the song went on. By the time the second verse began, Mark was humming along before finally fully rapping alongside himself. Again, you were reminded of how addictive his voice was. 

He seemed so passionate at that moment, so confident. He was showing a side to himself that you hadn’t seen before. Someone so comfortable where he was. Someone truly in their element.

“I get why you want to do music,” you commented as the song ended.

“Why?” 

“You love it. I can tell. It’s like more than just a career for you, it’s a part of you,” you said matter of factly. The statement confused you to some degree. You had never seen someone so comfortable in their element. You hated to admit it but you were even a little jealous.

He smiled at that notion, “It is a part of me. Ever since I was young, my dad taught me how to play guitar and that really just jump started my love for it.” You nodded in understanding before picking a random Frank Ocean song on his playlist. 

“You should come to my showcase next week, I just got offered a spot today,” he said suddenly. You were completely shocked that he had asked you. 

“You can bring your friend, I think our whole class is going. It’s supposed to be an end of finals celebration” ah, everyone was going. 

“Okay,” you accepted simply, heat rushing to your cheeks for an unknown reason.

“just put your number in my phone, I’ll send the details later,”

The car ride from then on was more comfortable. What was once an awkward silence had become a relaxed atmosphere where you and Mark would chat about random things like the music on his playlist or the watermelon screensaver on his phone. 

              8.  I hate that he thinks can pull one over on me

                    [wednesday]

 “tutor girl, what’s up?” Mark crashed down into the seat in front of you, setting down a drink carrier from his cafe and a bag.

“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, shaking your head at his noisy entrance.

“Here you go,” he pushed an Iced Americano in your direction, following with the white bag.

“Oh, thank you, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you watched the smile on his face widen as he shook his head.

“It’s the least I could I could do for my favorite tutor,” your felt your cheeks get hot until you remembered one very important detail.

“I’m your only tutor, and you still have to take the full practice test,” you said sternly, putting the straw in the coffee quickly.

“Come on,” he whined out before starting a whole argumentative speech about how the practice tests were annoying.

               9. I hate that he doubts himself

                    [thursday]

“I mean, and I say this with full respect,” Mark began, “I truly don’t think I’m going to do that well,” he admitted, toying with the drawstring of his hoodie.

“Mark, just because you say with full respect, doesn’t make it more respectful,” you said with a grin, “but seriously, you’ve been doing so well on your practice quizzes. Over 60% every time, which is way better than what we started with,” you admitted, wincing a bit at the last statement you let slip out.

“Still, that’s not a passing grade,” he shrugged, utterly defeated as he picked up the essay rubric from his desk. His usual brighter than the sun smile had disappeared, leaving you feeling uncomfortably cold.

“Honestly your lack of trust in my tutoring skills is beginning to annoy me,” 

“No, dude, I trust you,” your eyes flew to him at that statement. He was still pondering over the paper in front of him as he continued, “I just feel like I suck at this stupid subject,” he threw the paper back onto the table at that statement.

You found yourself giving a pep talk without even a second thought “No, you don’t. You’re caught on quickly. You’re so smart but you need to stop second-guessing yourself. You’re going to do well. Even better than well because you have my help.”

“Thanks, tutor girl. I appreciate you,” you could tell he was sincere because he had met your eyes, even if just for a split second. It was the first time he had ever looked you in your eyes and it was making you feel things.

“I’m serious though, you are way smarter than you give yourself credit for, and you should know that you are no matter what score you get on this stupid test,” you finish, grinning as the smile returned on his face.

“Okay,” he nodded lightly as he stood waiting for you to join him.

You chuckled lightly at the boy as you looked up at him, “What is it, Mark?” he had a sheepish look on his face as if he was nervous about something other than the obvious.

“uhm well,” He was looking intently at you when you didn’t notice, waiting for any signs that he was annoying you.

“Actually, there’s something I was going to ask you,” a light blush found its way onto his cheeks as he spoke. You nodded in his direction waiting for whatever he had to say, looking up to find his eyes on you. 

At that moment you noticed almost like for the first time how pretty his eyes were. They were so doe-like and innocent, you couldn’t stop staring. 

To outsiders, you both would have seemed very odd as you stood just staring at each other. 

“Well, I-”

“Y/N, hurry- oh shoot, sorry,” Haechan’s voice rang from the doorway, pulling you out of whatever trance you had been in.

“I’m almost done,” you widened your eyes in Haechan’s direction for emphasis, looking back at Mark who had already looked away. “What were you saying, Mark?”

He smiled lightly for a moment, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important,”

You furrowed your brows lightly, “You sure.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk later,” 

              10. I hate that I don’t hate him

                   [Friday]

“I told you so,” Haechan was grinning ear to ear as he joined you on your walk to class.

“I could name ten things I hate about him, yeah right,” He laughed to himself suddenly, mocking your old statement. “Imagine my shock seeing your face a few inches away from his. I should’ve taken a picture.”

“Shut up,” you pushed him lightly, finally reaching the door to the lit class.

“I’ll see you afterwards, good luck,” he said, sending you a final wave before walking away.

It was the test date and you were sure that Mark was nervous. As soon as you got into the room, you noticed his fingers tapping violently on the desk, his single mechanical pencil clattering as it jumped around. He was there early, earlier than you were and that was saying something. The room was empty except for the two of you, even despite you being only about fifteen minutes early.

“Mark,” you had to call his name a second time to get his attention. “Mark, relax,” you took the seat next to him and swiftly grabbed his chattering hand in your own. You watched as his leg began bouncing up and down as if it were mocking the pencil’s previous movement, “Mark, breathe,” his eyes were glued to something in the distance, his breath labored.

“Shit, I’m not prepared,” he muttered quietly, “I should have done another quiz,” he breathed out. “and I can’t fucking breathe,” he clenched his brows at the last statement, his breathing coming out as quick huffs.

“Look at me, Mark,” you reached up to turn his chin towards you. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack,” you said the words slowly, hoping to not make it any worse.

“You have to breathe, I’m right here and I’m not going to let go of you,” you squeezed lightly on his hand to emphasize your words.

“You’ve studied and studied. You’ve worked hard. You’re going to do well. All you have to do now is relax and breathe. In and out,” his eyes were glued to yours before he finally closed them altogether and began taking slow deep breaths.

“I’m here with you, and we’re both going to destroy this thing,” he nodded slowly at your words, opening them a few minutes later as his breathing reached a normal pace and his leg stopped bouncing. 

You released his hand in the next second, sending him a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” was the last thing he said before people began filing into the room.

[Monday]

“I know what you’ve all been waiting for. I have your graded finals,” Your professor had waited until the end of the day to finally share the news, leaving everyone anxious.

It was utterly silent as he passed them around, only the sound of him saying a quick “see me after class,” to Mark, who immediately winced at the statement. You couldn’t help but furrow your brows in confusion, noticing that Mark hadn’t received his test back.

“Class is dismissed,” he pointed towards the doorway after delivering the final test, smiling lightly at the people whose arms were thrown up in celebration.

Your score wasn’t that big of a surprise, you had gotten what was expected of you. You were way more interested in Mark. So you decided to wait outside the door, watching as students filed out.

It seemed like hours had passed while you were waiting for him. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone, completely missing the sounds of someone walking up to you, that someone being Mark himself.

You yelped in surprise as you were lifted off of your feet and spun around in the air.

“What the hell,” was all you said as the boy set you down.

“Y/N, Look!” he exclaimed, handing you the test with a huge eighty-five percent scribbled in red on the top right corner of the sheet.

“Mark, I told you, you could do it,” you hugged the smiling boy, grinning brightly at him.

“I couldn’t have without you, Y/N,” the sincerity in his eyes as they bore into your own was making you melt on the spot. 

“No more tutor girl?” you asked, grin never falling.

“You’ll always be tutor girl but, uh,” he paused as if deep in thought for a moment, “I really like spending time with you. I think it will be weird not seeing you all the time,” you nodded in agreement, realizing that the semester had ended, meaning it was summer break.

“Well, we’re friends now right. We can still hang out,” you offered, watching as the boy looked down with a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Um, I know we’re friends, but,” he stepped a little closer to you, “I was wondering like, y’know if it’s possible, if you maybe wanna,” he continued to stumble over his words. You couldn’t help but smile at his very awkward, very cute way of asking you what you already knew he was getting at.

“Mark, do you want to go out sometime,” you finally blurted, chuckling at his pink face. 

“Yes, I would like that a lot,” he said nodding.

“I don’t know if you knew but uhm, I mean it was before, but basically um, I’m sorry I judged you before, Mark,” you apologized suddenly watching as he shook his head in dismissal. It had been on your mind for a while even despite him not knowing.

“I knew you felt that way before. That’s kind of why I was so like reluctant to have you as my tutor,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed lightly.

“That’s why you were so weird the day he told us,” you nodded in understanding remembering the look Mark gave you when you were first introduced, as if you spat in his drink. In his defense you deserved it.

“Honestly, yeah,” he confessed, “but in your defense, I am kind of an acquired taste,” 

“That’s not an excuse. I was an idiot,” you admitted, “Mark, you’re amazing,” he smiled lightly at your last statement, taking the time to just look at you. His brown eyes were like a pool, drawing you in until you sank, unable to stop staring.

He reached out, cupping your cheek with his hand before speaking, “Can I kiss you?”

You only nodded in response, waiting patiently as he lowered his head towards your face until he was less than a centimeter away. It felt like hours had passed until his lips grazed yours, allowing a tingling sensation to move throughout your body.

 In a flash, your arms were around his neck and he was holding onto you delicately, like you would break if he was too rough. He tasted like a mixture of mint and watermelon gum. His warm foresty and floral scent was filling your senses, actively intoxicating you as his lips moved against yours rhythmically. The kiss was greater than any apology you could have given him since it was full of the emotion you couldn’t fully articulate. Mark was fully focused on you in the moment, lips moving against yours like a magnet.

“I told you to become friends, not make out in public,” you heard Haechan’s voice interrupt, causing you to immediately pull away from the boy in front of you. You couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably at Haechan's mortified face and Mark’s intense blush.

“Sorry,” Mark muttered quietly, smiling as he looked down at you.

Haechan walked towards the older boy, looping a hand around his shoulder as he spoke, “Y’know, I always saw this coming. She said she didn’t like you, but a best friend always knows,” you could only shake your head as Mark looked back at you as if asking for help. You could hear Haechan going on and on about his premonitions as you trailed behind the two boys, feeling a sense of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Mark was someone you could never see yourself with. He was loud, always distracted, obnoxious, stubborn, and mysterious. But he was also kind, deliberate, hard-working, smart, infectiously positive, and beautiful. You didn’t know when the thought struck you, but as you looked up at the brunette boy walking ahead you finally knew what you wanted. You wanted him by your side for as long as possible.

[lokidrabbles]

Nightly Memoirs (Loki x Reader Oneshot)

Reader comforts Loki after he wakes up from a nightmare A/N: Oneshot story! I know this is a subject matter that is very popular with Loki fics, but it’s just a very good subject matter to write about, I hope you all enjoy! Warnings: Established relationship, nightmares, angst

Loki’s sudden flinching had woken you up late into the night. Your eyes fluttered open when you began to feel the perturbing shivering radiating from his body. You didn’t take it for much at first and guessed he was adjusting himself to feel a bit more comfortable in your bed. He had his back turned to you, preventing you from observing his facial features. You instinctively scooted closer against his back and allowed your eyes to drop heavily.

Once he let out a distressing sob, your eyes flew wide open. You perked your upper body, fixating your gaze onto him. Was that crying? You hesitated wanting to wake him up, still unfamiliar on how he’d react to it, but you began to notice more worrisome signs. His body began to twitch uncomfortably and you began to hear him murmur something soft between his lips. He remained quiet for a bit, but then let out another sob, this time more pained. His breath became shallow, with short huffs and puffs releasing from his nostrils.

“Loki.” You said, your voice still hoarse. You cleared your throat and attempted to call louder. “Loki. What’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond back and his body continued to shiver relentlessly. You panicked. This was completely unexpected and something you were unwillingly unprepared for. You had never observed Loki in such a vulnerable position. He always presented himself as such a determined, confident individual, even at his most reserved. There was always a bit of intimidation with him, a feature you had slowly melted off once you both grew closer together. But it was still him nonetheless. And now he laid here next to you, possibly in the middle of a horrible nightmare with no escape.

You bit your lip as you reached over to lay your palm on his forearm. You already had the situation played out and prepared yourself to be potentially flung across the room. After all, a defensive person such as Loki would be on high alert, even through this. You mustered your courage and gripped his arm, shaking him gently. He was freezing, startling you a little.

“Loki! Hey, wake up! You’re having a bad dream!” Your voice was much louder, worry covering every word.

Loki jolted upwards, clutching at the air in desperation, completely out of breath. He let out a pained groan as he placed his hand on his chest, taking in as much oxygen as possible. His eyes darted across the room until they finally caught your hand on his forearm. His mouth, still agape from inhaling harshly, trembled. He wasn’t able to make out any legible words. He was still scared, his mind possibly still trapped inside his nightmare. Your grip remained on him and you continued to feel the trail of shivers all over his cold skin.

You gulped. You were very scared and began to brainstorm what you could possibly say or do to ease the tension. He turned to look at you, and even in the soft light of your room, you could see his eyes were still filled with much fright. He appeared like a child, waiting for words or physical contact which could comfort him. The responsibility laid solely on you currently.

“Loki, it’s okay. Um. Were you having a nightmare?” Your voice became softer, with hopes that it would help decrease his trembling.

He remained quiet, his breath finally stabilizing. He placed a hand on top of yours, gripping it tightly. The shakiness remained, and even with him being fully awake, an intuition in you suggested you needed to do a little more for him.

“Hey, its okay.” You whispered, leaning in closer to him. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t real. You’re safe here with me.”

It was painful to see Loki in this state. He appeared even paler than before, his dark locks in a mess of tangles. You always pictured a dynamic where he would be the more protective one from the both of you, and he really was. Now, he was here, firmly holding onto your attention for his own sake. It didn’t depress your involvement with him, but motivated a feeling you could only convey as unconditional regard.

“Loki, come here.” You said and tugged at his forearm closer to you. He resisted at first, still stuck in whatever turmoil his mind had thrown at him. “Loki please. Come here closer to me.”

He let out a long, deep breath, and finally gave in. He allowed you to pull him closer to you and you purposefully lead his head to lay in the crook of your neck. Your arms circled around his neck and over his shoulders, and you pulled him in in a tight embrace. This allowed your hands with the liberty of stroking his head and his back gently, which had always soothed you personally when you experienced something similar.

You knew he wasn’t completely fine with this display and the stiffness all over his body was present. You admitted you were still lost on how to possibly comfort him or ground him back to the present. You simply couldn’t leave him in this state. So you figured whatever you could possibly do or say could work.

“Loki.” You began. “Do you remember the first day when we met?”

Unsurprisingly, he was quiet. You felt his breath warm your skin, motivating you to continue with your recollection of him.

“It was little over a year ago. You and Thor and just landed in from New Asgard. Tony was pretty apprehensive that day, he kept telling everyone he still had a hard time trusting you. I wasn’t really sure what to expect as I had never met you before. I think I was still checking my email or something during the time, but I had heard Thor being loud as ever which made me turn around. You were there with your brother, and my first thought was that you were a really, really tall person.”

You strokes became patterned, smoothing out his hair and gently massaging his back. Loki shifted slightly, bringing his hands up close to his chest. You continued with your story.

“You looked so different from your brother, but you both were surely acting like them. I don’t remember exactly what Thor had told me, but he called me over to introduce me to you. When I got up close to you, you appeared even taller than before. I gotta admit, it was a little scary at first. But once I heard your voice, I felt...calm.”

You giggled to yourself. Traveling back to this moment in time brought back some good feelings, ones you were still to naive about back then.

“And yeah, I thought you were gorgeous. I had never seen a man like you before. I guess I’ve been sort of smitten since the beginning. Everyone at the facility had given me the warnings about you, which did bring up some curiosity. Needless to say, I was surprised with how down-to-earth you presented.”

Your bedroom remained quiet for a minute. Loki’s breathing appeared to have matched yours, giving you an indication that maybe he was feeling a little better. His stiffness had gone away, and his skin felt much warmer than before. You felt this was the right moment to stop at your story, even though there was still much omitted for the sake of the situation. You felt your eyelids become heavy again and you hoped that whatever Loki had fought against had diminished for the rest of the night.

“You were wearing a black coat that day.” Loki’s voice was deep and low and you felt its vibration on the skin of your neck. “You looked very nice.”

Your eyes had closed, but the corners of your lips began to turn upward. “You remember that day?”

“Of course. You were the first person I was introduced to.”

You leaned your face downward to land several soft, tender kisses on his forehead. The unwavering instinct continued to motivate your actions, sending many messages of care to him. You felt Loki slink his arm across your waist, tugging at you to come even closer to him.

“I got you, my prince.”

[justthehiddleswrites]

Forever Hold Your Peace | Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader  | Chapter 2 | The Engagement

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Cumberbatch!Reader

Summary:  Tom Hiddleston dated Benedict's little sister (reader) back at Cambridge, after a bad breakup Tom and Benedict are now friends. The reader is now engaged to an American who Benedict does not trust. Ben turns to his good friend Tom to help break up the wedding and win back the girl he never truly got over.

This Chapter:  Tom attempts to make amends with Ben. Reader has some exciting news but Benedict is not thrilled. He works to enlist Tom to help break up an engagement.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slapping, cursing.

-

Two weeks after Benedict decked Tom at the event, Tom rang him to invite him for a few beers. Benedict accepted wondering if Tom was just looking for a rematch. They met in a pub close to Benedict’s home. Tom was already there.

“I ordered a beer for you.” Tom slid the glass across the table.

“It’s not poisoned is it?” Benedict sniffed the beer as if he could detect the poison by smell alone.

“Only if you are allergic to hops.” Tom chuckled. “You and your sister can land a punch.” Tom touched his nose, the bruises faded.

“Sorry about that.” Benedict mumbled into his beer.

“No, I well earned it. I behaved poorly and your sister did not deserve that.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“I was so focused on becoming an actor. I had blinders on to anyone else’s feelings. Will you please extend my apologies to her?”

Benedict nodded. “So…” he looked around.

“Friends?” Tom extended his hand, and gave a sheepish grin.

“On one condition…” Benedict took a long swig of beer. “… you never date a member of my family again.” Benedict extended his hand.

“Deal.” The two shook hands and laughed.

Two beers later, they gave goodbyes and laughed about the whole thing. Any ill will between the two had passed.

2012

Benedict groaned and rolled over in bed to fumble for his phone on the nightstand. He saw your number and hit the ignore button. Five minutes later, the phone rang again. He groaned and answered the phone.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Good afternoon to you, too. What have I done today to earn such a greeting?”

“Woke me up.”

“It’s 1 p.m.”

“I was up late shooting scenes.”

“Well suck it up, I am calling to invite you to dinner tonight.”

“Will Billy Bob be there?”

“His name is William Robert and yes.”

“Then I am not coming.”

“Come on Ben, Mom and Dad already agreed and it’s really important for you to be there.”

“So I can stab William?” Benedict rolled up to sitting.

“Be nice. Why do you always hate my boyfriends?”

“Because you have horrible taste in men.”

“What about Tom?” you asked pointedly.

“Tom is the exception that proves the rule. Besides, I didn’t like him until after he broke up with you.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You brought it up.”

“Tower Grill, 6 p.m. wear something nice.”

“Can I bring a date?”

“Are you even dating?”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it Sophie?”

“No comment.”

“Then no, you can’t bring a date.”

“Fine.”

“How is Tom?”

“Busy. Tall. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Tower Grill.”

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“6 p.m.” you yelled into the phone as he ended the call.

Benedict tried to doze back off but an uneasy feeling about tonight nagged him.

-

Benedict sat at the far end of the table. He could barely stand William for more than a few moments let alone an entire meal. For whatever reason, he kept asking Benedict if he knew Arnold Schwarzenegger. After politely saying no about five times, he found it better to avoid him.

“Thank you, everyone for coming here tonight.” William started as he stood at the end of the table. “We have a little announcement.”

You stood up next William and gazed up to him with adoring eyes. It took everything in Benedict’s power to not roll his eyes.

“WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!” you squealed as you flashed a sparkling engagement ring. Benedict’s eyes widened in surprise. The two of you had been for just over a year.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Ben asked as he sidled up and kissed your forehead.

“Sure.” your brows furrowed in confusion.

“In private.” he tugged you away from the fray.

“What is it?” you asked once out of earshot from the group.

“Isn’t this all so sudden? I mean how well do you know Bil… er… William? You’ve been dating how long? Six months?” Ben questioned as he pursed his lips.

“It has been eighteen months. I know him better than you do, since you never even bother to take the time to talk to him! He’s trying.”

“For God’s sake, he keeps asking me if I could introduce him Arnold Schwarzenegger! Do I look like the kind of person who knows the Terminator!?”

“He is trying to show interest, you ass!” you yelled.

Benedict took a step back and waved his hands to quiet you. “I’m just saying I don’t think he is the right guy for you.”

“What the fuck do you know, anyway? Like you are some relationship expert!?” you huffed away to rejoin the rest of the family.

Benedict frowned as William slipped his arm around your waist and kissed you. William stared at Ben from over your shoulder with a sinister smirk.

Later that week

Benedict’s foot tapped against the table leg as he waited for Tom to arrive for their lunch date.

“Hey!” Tom’s voice boomed from behind him.

Benedict rose and embraced Tom into a tight hug. Tom pulled back to look at his friend and his brow furrowed. It was impossible to ignore the dark circles under Benedict’s eyes and the weary expression.

“Are feeling alright?” Tom gave a squeeze to Benedict’s arm.

“I’m fine.” he lied. He didn’t want to lay his worries on his friend first thing. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, will you order me a drink?”

“Of course.” Tom nodded and took the other seat at the table.

Tom looked over the menu when Benedict’s phone rang. He spied your name and face on the screen and smiled as he picked up the phone to answer.

“Hello darling.”

“Ben? Who is this?”

“I am wounded that you don’t recognize my voice.”

“Tom? Why do you have my brother’s phone?” you asked, flushing at the sound of Tom’s deep baritone. You were unprepared for Tom to pick up the phone.

“We are meeting for lunch, he stepped out for a moment. How are you doing?” Tom couldn’t stop smiling listening to you.

“I’m… good. Great!” you stuttered out. “I’m on the way out pick out my wedding dress.”

Tom’s smile faded. “I didn’t know. Congratulations.” He said through tight lips.

“Thanks…” you stuttered. “To be fair, it only happened this week.” you chewed on your lip as your stomach did somersaults. You reminded yourself

you were over Tom and engaged to William now.

“I wish you a happy marriage.” Tom continued. He hoped you would end the call before he said something he would regret. “I will tell Benedict you called.” he sighed.

“Thanks again Tom.” you ended the call with a sigh.

Damn that man! You thought as you hung up the phone. You were engaged for fuck’s sake! This was not the time to think about your ex-boyfriend, even if he is the charming Tom Hiddleston. You shook off the nagging ideas and picked up your purse to head to the dress shop.

Benedict came back to the table. “Did I give you enough time to slip the poison in my drink?” he chuckled but his smile fell upon seeing Tom’s dark features.

“When were you going to tell me your sister is getting married?” Tom snapped, taking a big gulp of his beer.

“How in the… um… today.” Benedict stumbled.

“She called. I answered. She wants you to call her later. Who’s the lucky bloke?”

Benedict groaned. “William Robert Harrison. An insufferable stock broker from America.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “Is this the guy you call Billy Bob? The one obsessed with the Terminator?”

“The same on both counts. There is something about him I don’t trust.”

“Is it the accent?” Tom chuckled.

“No. But there is this look in his eye. He is up to something. She has the worst taste in men.”

“Hey!”

Benedict waved his hands. “Present company excluded. Which begs the question why are you so upset about this?”

Tom reddened as he turned his attention to the menu. Ben’s eyes widened.

“Are you fucking joking?! When were you going to tell me?”

“Never. I missed my opportunity. She is engaged to someone else. Besides, I don’t think she likes me anymore. Not after the way I broke up with her.” Tom shot back, his glance dropping and his shoulder slumping.

Tom regretted the way he treated you that night in the pub. He had been young and stupid. Now with the sting of a few bad breakups under his belt, he was wiser and kinder.

“Then why does she always ask me how you are you doing when we talk?” Benedict took a sip of his beer, smiling as the red of Tom’s face spread down to his neck.

“Because she is a polite person. Much more so than her brother.” Tom smiled back, his body betraying his emotions.

“Nonsense. I am by far the better behaved Cumberbatch. Now help me break up her engagement.”

“Absolutely not. I won’t do it.”

“Come on, Tom. For me. For her. Where is your romantic side?” Benedict leaned in closer.

“My romantic side remembers your family’s right hook. I prefer to keep my nose where it is.”

“Party pooper.” Benedict slumped back in his chair.

“But I wish you well on your quest to destroy your sister’s engagement and love life.” Tom raised his glass in a toast.

“To broken engagements.” Benedict raised his glass.

“To missed opportunities and misspent youth.” Tom joined.

They both drank. Benedict couldn’t help but notice the pained expression on his friend’s face.

After the meal ended and Tom and Ben said their goodbyes, Benedict fished out his phone and punched in your number.

“It’s about time you called me back.”

“I was at lunch. Tom gives his love by the way.” Benedict lied.

“Oh…? Well, tell him thanks the next time you see him.” you mumbled. Benedict smiled as he could practically hear you blushing through the phone.

“Anyway, you called earlier?”

“I did?” You lost yourself in a set of deep blue eyes in your mind for a moment. “I did!” You caught yourself. “Change of plans. William’s work visa is expiring. The wedding is happening in three weeks.”

Benedict stopped dead in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?! I must have misheard. The wedding is in three weeks?”

“You heard right.” you deadpanned. “And don’t try to convince to not go through with it. I am in love with William. Nothing can change.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Not like you would listen.” He leaned against the building. This news complicated things. “Give my love to Billy Bob.”

“Wanker.” You broke off the call.

Benedict tapped the phone against his chin. He hadn’t expected the wedding to happen so soon. He would need to act fast. But he smiled at the thought of your reaction of hearing of Tom’s message of love.

“Interesting.” He hurried off to brainstorm and make plans to put the end to Billy Bob.

[roosterschick]

It’s not smut and I don’t know if you only write smut so feel free to reject this! What about Dick fighting the reader because he gets infected with a serum that makes him think she’s someone else! She could be on the edge of death when he realises something’s not right!

warnings: violence (like a lot of violence), profanity, angst, mentions of blood

author’s note: i wrote this at 3am while listening to on the nature of daylight by max richter on repeat. hope you like it! p.s. i know a sparrow exists in the amalgam comics but we gonna pretend she doesn’t exist for the sake of this fic ok great

It was supposed to be a normal night of patrolling. You and Dick had decided to split up in order to cover more ground. This was usual for the two of you, keeping in touch through comms with the occasional stupid joke from Dick. You two would come together if need be, kicking ass back to back.

Tonight was different though. It even felt different. Something in the air was off, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

You’re crouched on top of a building, eyes scanning the city below. It’s unusually quiet and the silence conjures an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. A silent Gotham meant a storm was coming.

“Sparrow,” Batman comes through your earpiece. There’s an urgency in his voice that has you standing up straight.

“I’m here,” you say, alert and ready.

“Scarecrow is out tonight,” he says, making your blood turn to ice. There was something especially terrifying about Scarecrow. You could deal with Joker’s goons, you could handle Penguin and his annoying lackeys. Hell, you could even deal with Harley Quinn’s crazy ass. But Scarecrow scared you shitless. There’s something about a guy who calls himself the “master of fear” that is a whole different brand of insane. The man thrived off other’s fears, not to mention his mask itself was already horrifying enough on its own.

“Have you heard from Nightwing?” Batman asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“No,” you answer, confused. “Why?”

“I’m heading to Scarecrow’s last known location now. I’ve sent you Nightwing’s tracker coordinates. He’s gone dark on comms,” Batman says and despite the neutrality in his voice, you know he’s worried.

“I’m on my way,” you reply, already following the coordinates.

Your mind races as you make your way to him. What if something bad had happened to Dick? What if Scarecrow got to him? What if—you force yourself to push those thoughts out of your head. Bruce had always taught you that letting yourself get caught up in the ‘what ifs’ was more dangerous than the actual task at hand. He taught you that it does no good and usually ends up in reckless decisions.

Despite your determination in keeping a level-head, your heart is racing the closer you get to his location.

You see Dick from a distance and relief settles over you. He looks fine and doesn’t seem to be injured. Your feet land on the ground and you walk toward him.

“Dunno if you heard but Scarecrow is out tonight, we gotta get to Batman,” you say, approaching Dick.

But something about him is… wrong. He pulls his escrima sticks out and you step back, confused.

“You okay?” you ask, studying his body language. He looks ready to attack any second, like if you make one wrong move, he’ll pounce.

“Okay, jokes over, put your sticks away and let’s go,” you say, getting impatient. You were on edge, the whole situation making you uncomfortable.

“Where is she?” Dick says, venom lacing his tone.

You furrow your brows, dumbfounded by Dick’s words.

“What are you talking about?!”

“Tell me where the fuck she is, Deathstroke!”

Realization hits you like a train and you conclude that Scarecrow somehow got to him. Must’ve used one of his toxins on him and set him out on the streets to wreak havoc while under the influence of it.

You curse, calculating what your best move here is. You think that if you can get Dick to realize that whatever he’s seeing isn’t real, you can bring him back.

“Dick, listen to me, whatever you’re seeing and hearing… It isn’t real. Scarecrow used his fear toxin on you. It’s not real,” you say, taking cautious steps toward him.

“Don’t come any closer!” Dick says, and you stop in your tracks, hands raised in surrender.

“Okay! Okay… Let’s just… talk this ou-“ but you’re cut off when Dick springs into action.

Unprepared for the attack, one of his sticks strike you in the side of the head. White-hot pain pulsing throughout. You touch your ear, fingers wet and warm, coated in your blood. Your comms were no doubt busted now, cutting off any possible communication with Batman or Alfred.

“What did you do to her?!” Dick yells, his voice angry and raw.

“Dick, please, it’s me,” you say, desperate for him to snap out of this.

You’re begging for him to hear you, but all he hears is Deathstroke.

“I’m not going to fight you,” you say, but instead Dick hears “I killed her. Dropped her body in the harbor.”

You stand there, surrendering to him but all he sees is Deathstroke covered in blood. Your blood.

“I gutted her like a pig. She screamed like one too,” Deathstroke says smugly.

Dick roars as he lunges, tackling Deathstroke to the ground, ripping his mask off before punching him right in the mouth. Dick is seeing red, violent angry red and he punches again, feeling satisfaction at the sound of a crunch.

You’re trying to throw him off of you, but he knocked the wind out of you when he tackled you. Your head hit the ground hard enough to make you blackout for a few seconds. You’re trying to gain back your composure, but he’s landing punch after punch, not giving you an opportunity to stop him.

Through the rage, through the sound of his blood rushing through his ears, there’s a soft voice. A pleading voice. It’s faint, but it makes him hesitate before his next punch. The voice is familiar, but he can’t recognize it. Not when he’s so consumed by this much anger and hatred.

Deathstroke is looking up at him, laughing through bloody teeth. “She’s nothing more than another Gotham casualty,” he cackles before Dick lands another punch.

The faint voice is gone now and Dick can’t stop, won’t stop until Deathstroke is dead and his blood is running through the streets of Gotham. He knew what she meant to him, knew how important she was to him. That’s what he had always wanted, to take and take until Dick had nothing left. To leave him empty and vacant.

Dick wasn’t going to let him live to reap the benefits.

Hot tears stream down Dick’s face as he thinks of your smile, your laugh, how resilient you were. He thinks of training with you, thinks of the nights you comforted him when he had nightmares, thinks of watching you bake cookies with Alfred.

“DICK!” you scream, your voice wrecked. It took everything out of you to scream, every last bit of energy you had. Your eyelids are heavy now and your vision has gone blurry. The ringing in your ears is deafening.

He stops, fist raised in the air and you whimper his name.

It’s then that Dick snaps out of his rage and sees you. He swallows thickly as he realizes that it wasn’t Deathstroke he was killing, it was you. He analyzes the state you’re in, takes note of your deep, shallow breaths.

You cough, blood running down your chin as you look up at him with glossy eyes.

“No… no, no, no,” Dick is panicking, cradling your head in his hands.

You want to speak. You want to comfort him, to tell him this isn’t his fault. You want to tell him it’s okay. You want to tell him you love him. That you’ve always loved him. But all that comes out are gasps for breath.

“No, please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he’s babbling now. He presses a shaking hand to your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin.

“S’okay,” you choke, blood gurgling in your throat. It’s all you can manage.

You hope Dick forgives himself for this one day. That one day he realizes this wasn’t his fault, that he was a victim too. You silently pray to whatever higher power is listening, take one last fuzzy look at Dick, and then everything goes black.

–

There are voices. Some you recognize, others you don’t. You can’t make out what they’re saying, but the murmuring of familiar voices comforts you anyway.

You blink, the bright light stinging your eyes. You try and move, but a dull ache wracks through your body, causing you to whimper.

“Dick. She’s awake.”

Your vision starts to come back, albeit a bit bleary. You think you might be in a hospital, but you can’t be sure yet. You see figures standing around the room, the first one you make out is Bruce. He’s standing, arms crossed but has a look of utter relief on his face when you make eye contact.

Next to him is Alfred. Jason. Dick.

Dick is at your side in a flash, eyes scanning your face. He’s looking for the anger and hatred he feels that he deserves.

But all he sees is forgiveness.

You smile as Dick takes your hand in his. His eyes are red and watery. The sight causes a pang in your heart.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, pressing his lips to the back of your hand.

“It’s okay,” you rasp. You turn his hand in yours so his palm is facing up and slowly trace three words with a finger. I love you. Maybe he’ll figure it out, maybe he won’t. But for now, it was enough for you.

[for-ests]

Lost In Your Light: Peter Parker x Reader (Part 7)

( 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 )

[ my masterlist ] word count: 3, 963

CHAPTER 07: NOTHING I’VE EVER KNOWN

Potholes littered the road that stretched out in front of them.

The scene was just like every other night, except Y/N had a companion. She felt safer with Peter by her side.

"Does your suit know their location?" She asked as they turned down another nameless street. Words between the heroes had been scarce, but Y/N did not mind. She knew hunting down criminals wasn't the best way to get to know one another.

"Yeah." He affirmed quietly, making sure Y/N was lingering a safe distance behind him. "Just up ahead. I can hear them."

"You can?" She gasped. "What are they saying?"

Peter didn't answer. His side of the conversation had gone quiet. Y/N knew it was because he didn't want her to tag along. The girl took his silence to heart, and decided to stop asking questions. She needed to remain neutral while she walked alongside him. Even if she was thrilled, practically overjoyed to be with him, he was serious and she needed to be as well.  

Peter was hearing things he would rather not relay. He needed to focus on whatever was about to happen, not the beauty that Y/N radiated under the moonlight. He didn’t want to think about her skin against his, how pink and glossy her lips were, or even the innocent look in her eyes when he agreed to have her come with him. 

So, Y/N followed him silently through the darkness. There hadn’t been a visible light for miles, but suddenly, she recognized a warm glow reflecting against the pavement ahead. 

Growing uneasy, the pair rounded the exact house where Peter's lead claimed the Thorns were camping out.

There was only one lamp on, emitting from the front bedroom. The tranquility of their situation did not sit right with Y/N. The skeptical girl absorbed her surroundings noting that it was nothing new. An average run down, ghetto hideout on the outskirts of a metropolis. The front porch was missing, replaced with poorly built wooden steps. The chain link fence had holes and trash littered the yard.

"I don't like this." She whispered, predicting that omething was off. The girl wanted to say more, but it was not her place.

Peter felt it too. His senses were tingling, almost out of control, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason why. It was something in the air. The minute they crossed the street, he felt uneasy. 

But there was no reason to worry. Peter had never lost a scuffle with a Thorn member. Perhaps he was feeling too secure in the thought that he had put most of them in prison himself.

That confidence clouded his judgement. Because in reality, the most dangerous member had escaped. And he was leaning against the front door, watching them.

Y/N knew none of this, of course. She was following him blindly into a dangerous altercation. But she was young and ambitious. What girl wouldn't want to watch Spider-Man in action? Especially since she could give him something in return. 

That's what Y/N tried to tell herself. But that was before she took one look at the house. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. Sharp and shallow. Maybe she was not cut out for combat, already worn out from tip-toeing in the shadows. 

So many thoughts were racing through Y/N’s mind, that she failed to notice the sounds of rummaging that secreted from the home. It was quiet and suppressed, but it was noticeable.

Peter and Y/N scrambled to the front of the house. The hair on the back of Peter's neck shot up. Someone was watching him, possibly more. He lingered behind the chain link fence.

"So Peter..." Y/N whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "What's your plan?"

Admittedly, there was not one. All Peter had been doing the last couple of weeks was rounding up gang members. He had done it so many times now, that he felt like he perfected it.

That was why he ran into this mission head-first without a game plan.

But he wasn't going to tell her that. Until he heard the front door unlock.

Peter's foot crunched against the pavement as he took a step in front of Y/N. His gut sank, twisting with dread. He instantly regretted taking the girl with him.

"You need to get back—" He started, but was cut short by a whirling sound that chilled them both to the core.

Suddenly, the front window erupted into a piercing blue light, one that was alien and unnatural, one that caused Y/N’s mouth to drop open in shock. 

A vibration zipped past them, the movement audible and touchable. Y/N stumbled back farther behind Peter, fear immediately sinking within her gut. This was far from normal, and judging by Peter’s reaction, he was also unprepared for the immense amount of foreign weaponry. 

"W-what was that..." She whispered, afraid the perpetrators inside might hear her.

Y/N glanced to the front door. She felt their essence before she saw them.

"Y/N, go." Peter demanded through gritted teeth. He knew he shouldn't have let her come, he was far too concerned for her well-being. Why did he ever think it was a good idea to bring his crush to a fight?

Peter usually crept upon the scum that littered his hometown, he was usually quick and efficient. He made little mistakes these days. But as soon as Y/N walked by his side, most of his attention was tuned to her.  And now, his slight miscalculation could result in both their deaths. 

Because these lowlife criminals had something he failed to anticipate cautiously. They had alien technology that could slice him in half, knowledge he acquired from listening to their conversation for a single minute. The Thorns could tell Peter was outside before he even realized.

They were also thirsting for revenge.

"I'm not leaving you." Y/N insisted, steadying her feet and taking a step forward so she was standing at equal distance.

“Please-” He urged through gritted teeth. 

“No.” She hissed. 

Peter cursed himself as the leader of the gang stepped onto the porch before he could convince Y/N to leave.  His name was Daquan Monty, a man Peter helped put in prison months ago.

His skin was dark, but not dark enough to hide the colorful tattoos that were visible on every inch of his exposed skin. That was the only distinguishable feature that Peter remembered. It was an intimidating feature, one that made the boy second guess himself.

It was also cautionary and helped remind Peter of the past. Monty may be blinded with rage, but he was also intelligent. Monty had connections. He had ways to get out, he had multiple ways to achieve revenge.

"It's the spider boy." He chuckled, seeming less intimidated by Peter than the last time, which was definitely not a good sign. Monty had stepped up his game. Instead of just a t-shirt, he was decked out in an expensive leather jacket.

"I was hoping I'd see you again." His heavy combat boots clunked against the wooden porch.

Even Y/N recognized him and she didn't know what to do. She glanced over to Peter for reassurance but he was just standing there, gawking.

Monty cranked his head to look at the fear-stricken girl just as his greeting faded into silence. Peter knew he was pleased to see them both afraid, but now he had gained a glimpse of Y/N. Shit. He internally cursed. There was no maybe, there was no probably. Monty immediately perceived Y/N as Peter’s weakness, and he was one hundred percent correct. 

"Who's this?" He spat on the ground below him.

Peter shrugged to release the tension building up in his shoulders. His spider senses were telling him that there were at least 5 men hiding behind the door, waiting for a signal.

Peter had to buy time, yet he didn't know how that would help the dire situation.

"A spectator, who will watch me put your ass back in prison. Again. Where it belongs." The boy tried to feign confidence, for his sake and for Y/N’s. 

She was thinking the same thing. How stupid could she be? To think she could fight along Spider-Man. Maybe in any other situation, but not this one.

"Wrong!" Monty yelled. "She's going to give me a good time when I finish cutting your limbs off one by one."

The words chilled Y/N to the bone. She had gotten into trouble with the Thorns before, but they were wannabes, they were the errand boys. The members she had outsmarted weren't confident like Monty was. They did not have weapons like the one holstered on his shoulder, one that had familiar glowing purple buttons.

Y/N’s gaze snapped back to Monty’s infuriated expression. Whatever experience he had with Peter was not a good one. He wanted blood.

Those were the thoughts racing through her mind as she watched Monty point his weapon at her.

"On second thought, I'm tired of you." Monty snapped, firing the gun without a moment's hesitation. Peter barely had time to comprehend what had happened until he saw the bullet fly past.

"Y/N!" Peter shouted, springing across the pavement and shoving her to the side. Y/N stumbled to the ground, almost hitting her head, but he broke her fall. For a moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes. There was an unspoken determination. Both of them needed to escape no matter what. 

Peter quickly scrambled up and stood in front of Y/N as the remaining men burst through the front door, cocking their guns and pointing them all directly at him. Shouting suddenly filled the night, the howls and barking of dogs echoing around them from each direction except behind.

"Y/N, Y/N, are you okay?" Peter glanced over his shoulder and saw her climbing back to her feet. He was going to face Monty head on.

"I-I'm fine..." She insisted, looking at him with tear filled eyes. She tried to keep her legs from shaking, still recovering from the fact that someone had fired alien technology at her with the intent to kill. 

"You need to go!" Peter begged, turning back to the house as the shouting ceased. The rest of Monty's men had filed out into the yard. Each of them holding their own weapon, artillery that was unclassifiable. There were more men than he thought. There were ten.

"Run!" Peter hissed, angry that she hadn't bothered to even move an inch. 

"Perhaps bringing Y/N wasn't the best idea." Karen's voice rang in both his ears. "She doesn't know how to fight."

"No shit, Karen!" He grumbled.

"Do you want me to call for backup?" Karen asked as Peter watched Y/N finally take a few steps back. Why wasn't she running? What the hell was wrong with her?

"Not yet." He told Karen.

"Run, Y/N." He pleaded with the girl one last time. And this time, she turned on her heels and sprinted in the opposite direction, against every emotion that swirled through her mind. She felt dirty for doing so, she felt despicable and unforgivable. 

How could she abandon him?

"She can run!" Monty yelled. "We'll find her. Any friend of Spider-Man is our enemy."

"Nah, I won't let that happen." Peter said, quickly raising his hand and shooting out his chemically engineered webs. It locked around the machine gun and he pulled it towards him. It worked, for a brief second, but as Peter tugged, the weapon shuddered. 

Then, Peter noticed Monty's devilish smirk. One that told him he fell right into his trap.

The weapon exploded again, and it sent shock waves down Peter's web. The blast sent his arm flying back and he slammed against the concrete, the friction tearing through his suit.

Y/N heard his grunt and stopped in her tracks. She looked behind her and saw Peter scrambling to his feet. The vibration was so powerful that it had moved through the air. 

The blast threw Peter off balance just long enough for a few of the men to surround him. The weapons were too powerful. He had fought against men with alien-like machines before, but nothing like this, nothing to this extent of abnormality. 

How did Monty manage to possess these items? 

Despite the situation weighing heavily against him, Peter refused to give up just yet. He was faster, he was smarter, and he was able to regain his stamina in the blink of an eye. Almost as fast as the projectiles from the alien weapons, Peter jumped forward and punched one of the men, instantly knocking him out. Next, he swiped another man out from under his feet. Their guns skidded across the pavement and out of reach.

"Oh no..." Y/N gasped. Peter had told her to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She had to help him. Somehow.

He was drastically outnumbered. They walked right into Monty's trap. Every man that Peter tossed aside, another filled his place.

The tips of Y/N's fingers glowed, beckoning her back to Peter. If she could not fight then she would heal.

Peter was ahead of the battle, just for a second, a second of hope… hope that was vanquished at the sound of Monty’s colossal weapon firing.

"Die!" The leader of the Thorns roared, he had limited patience, he had limited time. 

He closed in on Peter as he tried to fight off the stranglers, firing again and again until one bullet hit its target. The intended bullet ripped across the flesh on Peter's torso, too fast for his spider senses to register.

Whatever the bullet was laced with, was so painful that Peter stumbled to his knees.

"No!" Y/N screamed as she watched Monty raise his gun in slow motion, finger on the trigger, barrall aimed for execution. She was too far away, she couldn’t do anything -- but she was getting closer.

Peter had to bite down on his lip from screaming out. He could feel the bullet lodged between his muscles, scraping away at every strand and inching to his bone with each strained movement. 

The rest of the remaining men stormed down the stairs, their guns seconds away from unleashing Monty’s death wish. For the first time in his life, Peter was afraid of dying.

"I'm finally going to kill you, little bastard." Monty growled, over confident with the position he found himself in. At least ten of his men lay unconscious around Peter. "After all the shit you put me through, I'm finally going to get my revenge. Nice and slow. Just how I like it."

"—But first. I want to see your pathetic little face." Monty curled his fist around the material of Peter's mask, and ripped it off his head.

Peter spat at his feet, blood dripping down his chin. He had no idea that Lelia was racing towards him in desperation, just as afraid and just as unsure. 

The boy knew he was going to die, yet all he could think about was how terribly he failed. As the barrel of the gun neared, he wanted to cry out and ask for forgiveness. Once a hero was unmasked, they could never go back. 

Yet, Peter’s face was blank, cleared from all emotion. If he could do anything in his last moments, he would not give Monty that satisfaction.

"Just what I thought." Monty finally said after he had inspected Peter's face and stature. "A little kid. A retarded little kid."

And then he cocked his gun. Peter winced as he heard it whirl, the blue light growing brighter.

If this was the end. At least Y/N was safe. 

"To hell with you, Spider-Man."

The blast rang out. But it never came into contact with Peter’s skin. The vibration buzzed past him, but nothing else.

And when he opened his eyes, he found Y/N standing in front of him, panting, her chest rising and falling as a form of intimidation.

Silence.

Monty's eyes widened in shock. Y/N was gripping the barrel of his gun, forcing it towards her with all of her strength. Her hands were glowing, pulsing with heat, a fire that began to shriek against the metal. 

The bullet hovered inches from her forehead. It vibrated back and forth, stuck in the forcefield that surrounded her. A force field that was visible in the form of golden dust particles. Intimidating, yet indescribable. 

Y/N’s hands seared. The intent of her power was different than before. She was pushing forward with all of her might, every piece of what she had was rushed forward at once, defying the laws of physics to save Peter's life.

The girl could sense everything around her, she heard every sound, felt every movement. She could taste the fear of all the men around her.

"Y/N—" Peter gasped, still on his knees. There was no way this was happening… there was no way.

With his next inhale, he groaned, the pain from his wound intensifying, so agonizing that it caused Y/N to flinch in response. She needed to reach him, she had to. The girl didn’t even know how she had created the ring surrounded her, but she felt the force tied to the growing pain knotting through her intestines. 

How was this happening?

Y/N released the tip of the barrel, but managed to hold the golden ring of dust that floated around them, the width of it shrinking. 

The bullet stayed still.

In a daze, and starting to feel weak, Y/N mistakenly glanced at the injured Peter.

The golden light reflected in his eyes, while a stream of blood threatened to drip over them.

I need to help him.

But the girl was drained, she felt herself struggling to keep control of whatever force was bound to the blood in her veins, naeasua coursing through her. 

"Y/N?" Peter gasped weakly, trying to move, but unable.

A cry escaped her lips in reply, losing focus at the sound of his voice, the surprise, the anguish.

And that was when Y/N’s wrath unleashed against the surroundings. The girl lurched forward in the sudden surge of energy, breath leaving her lungs in a gasp, then a scream.

The familiar golden light exploded in a thick ring, traveling at such a speed that it severed everyone in its radius. Everyone except Peter.

Y/N screamed again in agony, her voice traveling miles through the vacant fields and overgrown lawns. 

She fell to the ground, scraping her knees and hands against the concrete. Her skin was tingling, fingers curling abnormally. Y/N could still feel a slight flicker of power. For a moment, she had felt the most alive in her entire life. 

Then, she twitched, and then, she felt nothing.

Peter's eyes widened as he watched Monty and all his men severe in half. The top portion of their bodies toppling over before he could make sense of it. The blood didn’t have a reaction time, the mouths of the victims hanging open until they smacked against the dirt. 

Y/N had killed them all. With one scream, with one motion, with one movement. It was over.

Peter shifted his weight, dumbfounded. All alien technology that had come in contact with the golden ring, had disintegrated. It happened so fast that Peter didn't even feel that it was real. How was he still alive? Was he dreaming? 

After gathering his senses, Peter immediately turned to the girl. She was still on her hands and knees, panting heavily.

"Y/N?" He called, afraid to touch her. Had she controlled the light? Or was it all coincidence? 

Y/N felt an excruciating pain deep within her gut. Something wasn't right. Death lingered around her, and she knew it before she lifted her head.

The smell of rust filled her nose.

She opened her eyes.

The grass had been painted red, pools of blood collecting around the severed limbs. Eyes of the dead rolled back in their heads. Expressions still visible. Hearts possibly still beating.

"P-peter..." She managed to choke out, still too afraid and shocked to move another muscle.

He just stared at her.

Y/N staggered to her feet, legs shaking from fatigue. She stumbled forward to Monty, almost tripping over him as her eyes grazed the destruction.

"Oh god... What have I done?" A sob left her lips, echoing down the lifeless and vacant street.

Y/N fell back to the earth, knees buckling underneath her in a form of punishment, almost threatening that she couldn’t get away with her crimes. 

She did this. She was a monster.

Her eyes remained wide open, what happened? Why couldn't she feel anything? The only thing that could make sense was the urge to heal Peter's wound. That was all the girl could think about, a switch in her brain telling her that it was the only way to feel something again.

The power that had manifested inside of her had released. And now it needed to be fed again,  craving replenishment almost immediately. 

Peter stared at Y/N from a distance, unaware of the revelation. All he could see was the massacre.

One that she had not intended, pure accident driven by an outside force. Judging by the panic setting in, Y/N had no control over her powers, she seemed to know that much. Yet somehow the girl had spared his life.

"Y/N... I-I thought you healed." Peter whispered, finally shifting far enough to feel the bullet still lodged against his collar bone. He trembled with discomfort, sweat intensifying along his forehead.

But no matter his pain, Peter needed to be assured that she was okay.

"I thought I did too." She swallowed hard, guilt thick within her throat. Each breath caused her to wince. She felt like her lungs had collapsed.

"Peter..." She tilted her head to the side, tears falling freely from her eyes. "I need to go..."

Sleep...

She could barely finish her sentence before she passed out. "I need help—"

And then she toppled over. Unconscious.

"Karen!" Peter yelled, frantic. He couldn't move to her side. "Call Mr. Stark!"

"And an ambulance?" She questioned.

"No, Stark will get here faster."

The sound of his phone ringing was all he could hear. His heart was beating so hard it was all he could feel. Peter waited, glancing to Y/N's slumped over frame.

Her chest rose slowly, yet fast enough so that Peter could relax.

Mystifying and fascinating yet destructive. All the power she had been hiding was finally boiling over and Peter was afraid for her well being. He may not have known Y/N for long, but anyone could see that she couldn't handle death. It was the exact opposite of everything she had ever known.

"Helloo? Parker?" Tony's voice blared through the speaker, irritated. Apparently Peter had not heard him the first time he picked up. He was stuck in a trance, wondering how they were going to clean up the dozens of bodies littering the street.

"Parker!" He scolded. "Why are you calling me at 2am?"

"Mr. Stark..." Peter spoke slowly, trying to mask the agitation in his voice. "I need you to come get me right now."

"Did something happen?" Tony asked, instantly worried. He could already hear the man scrambling out of bed.

Peter only called when it was a life or death emergency.

"Something bad." He paused. "Karen sent my location. But I think I have someone you need to meet."

Tag list! 

@spn-assemble-seven​ ​ @eridanuswave​ ​ @fallisflame​ @used-avocado​ ​ @pluckypete​ ​ @vanillanestor​​ @averyfosterthoughts​ ​ @rudysrings​​ @magicalturmoil​  @lust-for-pan​ ​ @keep-bears-wild​ ​ @selintugmen​​ @undiadeestos​ ​ @eridanuswave​ ​ @unknownsolarsystems​​ @ineedabifriend​ ​ @silver-winter-wolf​ ​ @alioop3818​ ​

[fallinnflower]

solemn vow

jun x reader (arranged marriage!au, non-idol!au, angst)

“Good luck in your marriage,” someone says. Too many people have come by to say that at this engagement dinner for Jun to keep track, and the champagne he guzzled through the night isn’t helping. They’re probably an important business partner, he wagers, so Junhui bows and thanks them, closes his eyes so he doesn’t feel so dizzy at the sudden movement. He only looks back up into the gentleman’s eyes when he lets out a soft laugh, 

“You make a lovely couple.” Jun can’t help but smile as the man walks away. It makes his chest swell with pride to hear those words, years of pining after you feeling as though they’ve come to an end. How could he be anything but happy when he gets to marry the woman of his dreams, his best friend: you?

That is, until he notices the almost imperceptible hunch of your shoulders, the tiny sigh you let out as the man walks away. You glance at Jun out of the corner of your eye, and give him a tired smile. He’d almost forgotten, until he has to nudge you with his elbow to get you to genuinely grin, that you two weren’t really engaged — in your own words, that is. And maybe you’re right, Jun himself hadn’t asked you with anything more than ink on a sheet of paper his and your parents typed up for the sake of their fortunes, but it didn’t make his feelings for you any less real.

Except you didn’t know that. Because if Wen Junhui was one thing, it was an incredible actor — even when it came to his love for you.

You shift your gaze to an approaching elderly couple, and Jun feels his smile stiffen. All he can think for the rest of the night is a dull if only every time he looks into your eyes and seems to see stars, and he reconsiders — maybe he shouldn’t have had so much champagne. 

The first time Wen Junhui asks you out, it’s on a playground. 

It’s a typical Monday at daycare, and over the weekend one of his older cousins had taught him how to make a ring out of a daisy. You happened to be wearing his favorite color shirt that day and so, logically, the two of you get married by the swing-sets. 

Sometimes Jun wonders if you remember that day. He’s surprised he still can, to be honest. 

The thing is, Jun has asked you out so many times, but never as straightforwardly as then — and never with anything close to that level of success. He’d save up his allowance to buy you something nice for White Day, even though you probably only gave him chocolates on Valentine’s Day because he was your best friend and one of the only boys you talked to. He keeps lists of what you want for holidays, knows how to order your favorite foods and drinks, always knows what you need to hear and when. 

Jun is the textbook definition of boyfriend material, but being your best friend comes first. It always has, and as far as Jun is concerned it always will. Even if it isn’t romantic, you’ve entrusted him with your heart and he’s determined to never, ever break it. If he has his way, it’ll never gain so much as a scratch. 

It’s the one time Jun doesn’t actually try to ask you out that you end up together: your parents collectively arrange your marriage. After years of writing you love letters that he then had to laugh off in fear of scaring you out of his life, your whole relationship ends up dictated by your parents. He’s convinced the universe just really has something out for him, because now he has to plan a wedding with you by day and by night listens to you rail and rage against both of your parents. 

Because you don’t love Jun. And he’s always known it, but it’s never been so obvious and in his face. He knows you don’t mean to break his heart, but you do, night after night — and then he finds himself loving you more day by day when you have to do fiancé things like taste cakes and choose flowers. 

He asks you to have daisies in the bouquet, like the ones that grew outside the daycare, and you just laugh and allow it. 

He realizes you don’t remember. Everything hits home then, that you never knew and you never should know how he feels about you, really. 

While you’re engaged, he sleeps very poorly. 

Wedding planning is awful. Junhui isn’t the type of person who can handle sitting in a room and having a long conversation about minute details, he has too much energy for that. It doesn’t help that you’re simultaneously bored and agitated, that he can tell you want to bounce off the walls but for an entirely different reason. Jun is excited to marry you. His energy levels are boosted because of his nervous excitement, meanwhile you’re filled with a murderous rage that tedious tasks only fuel into further violence. 

It’s also awful because every decision feels hollow and one-sided. Jun wants to give you everything you could possibly want on your wedding day, but what is that worth when your heart isn’t in it? So what if he chooses your favorite flavor of cake, and all your favorite foods and colors and flowers — what does it matter if you’re unhappy? No amount of material things that are beautiful about the ceremony are going to make you less bitter when you look back. After all, you’d told him only a few days before that you felt as if your life was being signed away.

He goes with you to every appointment except the one for the dress. Call him selfish, but he wants to be a little traditional; even though you tell him you don’t care whether he sees the dress before the wedding or not (what’s the point in being superstitious when it’s all fake, when it doesn’t matter if the marriage is good or bad — just the money?), he cares. For him, seeing you in that dress is going to be a dream come true. He only hopes you can manage to smile at him for real as you walk down the aisle, even if it’s only as a friend.

Your wedding date inches closer and closer, and you seem more dejected with each passing day. It breaks Junhui’s heart, but there’s nothing he can do — nothing he does seems to ease the stress for you. 

It’s the night after the engagement party when Junhui can’t take it anymore. Or, more accurately, it seems both of you have hit your breaking point, and he can’t stand to see you the way you are anymore. It drives him out of hiding in the guest bedroom to where you are in the master suite. He can hear the television playing beyond the wood as he gently knocks against it. Your voice sounds so small when you call to him,

“Come in.” 

The room is a mess, which Jun should have expected but which breaks his heart nonetheless. You’re leaned back against the pillows, your hair still wet from your shower and one of the leftover bottles of champagne from the party set on the bedside table beside you. You barely move your gaze from the television when he enters, only truly acknowledging him when he takes the remote and turns the volume down. For a moment, the two of you simply stare each other down. The words Junhui seem to have dried up in his throat, so that all he can manage is a lame,

“How are you feeling?” You shrug noncommittally. Junhui moves into the bathroom and finds a dry towel and your comb. 

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he says,  gently nudging you so he can squeeze into the bed behind you. It takes you a moment, but you do eventually oblige, visibly relaxing as Junhui slowly drags the comb through your hair. He gently dries your hair, the television softly playing in the background and casting shadows across your face. The bags beneath your eyes seem exceptionally dark, and he feels his heart squeeze.

“Y/N,” he starts, softly, and you hum in acknowledgment. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s dangerous,” you mumble, and Junhui can’t help but smile at the familiar joke. He pokes your cheek before continuing to dry your hair for you.

“I don’t think us being married for a while is going to be so bad,” he begins, trying to gently nudge the conversation into motion. You let out a heavy sigh, and Junhui quickly backpedals, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. “Am I really that bad?” 

You pull away from him, only to turn and replace the towel in his hands with your own hands. The both of you seem frozen for a moment in time, just looking down at your joint hands between you on the bed, steeping in heavy silence. Eventually, you look up at him, expression serious and tears glittering in your eyes. 

“It just doesn’t seem fair,” you begin, your voice soft and wobbling with the threat of tears. “I just— just want you to be happy, Jun. I want you to be free to follow your dreams. Whatever makes you happy, Jun, I want you to follow that!” Your expression is so serious that Jun almost can’t help but laugh. 

“You really don’t see it?” He asks. You look at him curiously, eyes boring into his own, and Jun lets out a gentle sigh and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He allows his hand to linger by the curve of your jaw, wondering if this is the last time he’ll have the opportunity to be so close to you. You very well may run from him after hearing what he has to say, and this time he knows he won’t follow — he’ll let you leave and bear all the consequences, under these circumstances. 

“You’re what makes me happy, Y/N. I’ve been pursuing you for years.” 

Junhui is unable to count how many times he’s imagined telling you outright how he truly feels, and yet somehow he feels completely unprepared now that he’s actually doing it. The expression on your face is priceless; if he weren’t so concerned he’d probably laugh, but as it is he thinks he might be going into cardiac arrest. He watches you struggle for words for only a moment longer before gently stroking your hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to say anything. If you still don’t want this, I won’t force you to marry me. If you want to run away, I’ll take the fall — so don’t worry, okay?” For once, he thinks his acting skills might really be paying off, because he’s managed to continue smiling at you even as he’s breaking his own heart. 

Suddenly, you burst into tears and throw your arms around Jun’s neck, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Jun,” you cry. “How can— how can you still be so nice?” He rubs circles on your back, closing his own eyes as he feels tears pricking at the corners of them. At your question, he can’t help but laugh, although it’s humorless at best.

“Because I want you to be happy too, Y/N,” he whispers, afraid his voice will break if he speaks any louder. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. So— so, we can call this whole thing off, if that will make you happy.” I’ll do anything for you, he thinks. Anything.

For a while, you just cry in his arms, unable to calm down, and he does his best to keep his breathing steady so he, too, doesn’t become a blubbering mess. When you do speak, all you do is apologize over and over — and Jun gently shushes you each time, stroking your hair. Eventually, you exhaust yourself, falling asleep in his arms. Despite what he wants, he disentangles himself from you and quietly exits the room and goes back to his own, where he too cries himself to sleep, just alone.

Junhui rises late the next day, so much so he can’t call it morning anymore. The house is quiet, as always, but somehow he knows things have shifted. 

There’s a folded sheet of paper stuffed halfway under his door, as though someone had tried to slip it under and had been unable to get it all the way through. He pulls it out and barely has to see your familiar handwriting to know what it says. 

He drops it back on the floor where he found it and goes into the kitchen. The only sound is his spoon clanking against his bowl, the coffee maker purring in the background. He stares out the window and thinks it’s funny, how sunny the day is. 

He checks the master bedroom, only to find that everything is tidy again, just the way you like it. He wonders if he should start sleeping in there. 

He doesn’t. 

When he finally returns to his room, he picks up your note again. In it, you tell him you have a safe place to stay — but he knows you can’t tell him where, not now and maybe not for a very long time, if ever. Jun is going to have to pull off the performance of his life if you’re going to truly get away. You can’t tell him where, but he knows you well enough to guess; for your sake, he doesn’t call, doesn’t text, just lets it be. 

It’s the night before the wedding. The house is eerily still, as it is every night, but Junhui feels as though he can’t even hear his own heartbeat anymore. After hours of staring up at the now-familiar ceiling of the guest bedroom, he wanders into the untouched master. 

He walks to the closet, pulls back the doors, and finds a phantom. 

For the first time since you left, Jun cries. Maybe he should’ve gone with you to the dress fittings after all. He can’t tell which would be crueler, seeing you unhappy in a wedding dress or seeing a wedding dress destined to hang empty for eternity. 

He wakes up on the floor of the master bedroom before sunrise, goes to make a cup of coffee, then changes into his tux like nothing is amiss. 

His groomsmen meet him at the venue, and he cracks jokes with them and laughs at their playful ribbing. There’s no sense in ruining their fun, he thinks. At least the cake will be good. 

While everyone else is busy, he walks down the aisle by himself. Surrounded by daisies, bathed in the light of the stained glass, Junhui can’t help but smile. 

Everyone is panicked, wondering where you are, and Jun can only let out a weak laugh as he stares up at the empty altar, thinks of the empty wedding dress in the closet, the empty space in your heart he wished he’d occupied—

Everyone is wondering where you are, when you’re supposed to be here, but Junhui can only wonder where he’s supposed to be, because he’s been here all along. 

He plucks a daisy from one of the arrangements, softly humming to himself as he fashions it into a ring — one big enough for an adult, and slips it onto his own finger. As he stands at the altar, watching everyone waiting for you, he thinks he’s even fooled himself into thinking he’s alright without you. Only time will tell, he supposes. 

But at least the cake is good. 

[stormtrprinstilettos]

“Be a good girl, now.” - Roger x Reader (filthy smut)

Here’s more of your single dad Roger, ladies! 18+ only!

{Part 1 here}

Language. Smut. (Because I can’t seem to write without either.) Age gap. Everything.

Summary: Mr. Taylor hires you to babysit his two kids. (For argument’s sake, Reader is 18/19/20... whatever you want her to be, so she’s legal – I know if I don’t clarify this someone will have something to say.)

[A/N: Guess we have a series now. This is dedicated to all the thirsty bitches out there who encourage me to write filth like this. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.]

You should have been in class, but you can never say “no” to Mr. Taylor, which is why you begged your professor to let you take the exam with the class before yours. She was a hard bitch to deal with, but luckily for you, you can be quite the convincing actress when you need to be. Feigning some mysterious illness that you needed to have tests run for wasn’t you’re proudest moment, but she bought it, and you were able to finish early and rush to the Taylor household to take care of the kids while daddy goes and practices with the band. And since it’s warm out today, you can wear that cute new sundress you bought yesterday without any ulterior motive.

Don’t kid yourself. You wore it with a single purpose in mind, and you hoped like hell it was going to work.

“She’s here!” you hear Liv yell out after you ring the doorbell. “I’m going to open the door!”

“No!” you hear Mr. Taylor – oops… Roger yell back with a laugh. “You can’t just open it without knowing who it is.” He rushes to the door and opens it. “Well what do you know,” he turns back to Liv. “It really is her,” he says as he turns back and greets you with a smile that you easily reciprocate. “Hello there.”

“Hi, Mr… Roger,” you say. “I hope I’m not late.”

He looks down at his watch then back up at you. “Nope. You’re 5 minutes early.”

“Well come in, Y/N!” Liv says, tugging at the bottom of your dress. “I need your help.” You giggle and walk in, following Liv into the kitchen. “I’m trying to make cookies.”

“Cookies?” you ask in a surprised voice, trying not to laugh as you take in the utter catastrophe that’s on the counters. “What’s the special occasion?”

“A party!” she exclaims. “Daddy said I can have a party but I can only invite princesses.” You turn back and grin at Roger and he shrugs his shoulders. “I only know two of them so I can’t invite my friends,” she says in a somewhat sad tone. “But you’re invited!” Her smile grows big and she waves you down so she can tell you a secret. “Because you’re a princess.” She giggles and gets back to mixing whatever concoction she threw together.

“Does she even know what she’s doing?” you whisper in a giggle to Roger.

“Not a clue,” he laughs. He walks into the foyer and calls for Audrey (who is still insisting on being called Birdie) so he can tell the girls goodbye before he heads out. After Birdie walks into the kitchen to complete the mess with her sister, you follow Roger to the door so you can lock up when he leaves. “Thanks again for coming,” he tells you when he steps out. “I owe you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Taylor,” you say with a cheeky grin as you lean against the door.

His eyes roam up and down, taking mental notes of the way you look, and he smirks when his eyes meet back with yours. “I shouldn’t be any later than 9, 10:00.”

“Hmm,” you smirk. “They’ll be asleep by then.”

He nods his head, the smirk never leaving his face. “Then I’ll need your help,” he says. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Mr. Taylor.” There’s a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by arguing. “I guess I better go see what that’s about,” you giggle. “Have a good practice.” He smiles and turns to walk away, and you close and lock the door before taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the obviously ensuing chaos in the kitchen.

Liv and Birdie were beside themselves with giddiness all day and you didn’t realize how unprepared you were. But you enjoyed spending more than just a few hours with them, and you did your best to make every single minute enjoyable for them. You don’t know how you did it, but you even made cleaning the kitchen fun. Maybe they willingly agreed because you promised them they could go swimming when it was finished. And after swimming they didn’t fight you when you had them take their baths and wash their hair, maybe because you promised to do their hair and makeup before dinner.

They’re sitting across from the table, whispering and giggling with each other and keep looking over at you. When they would, you’d smile and they’d start giggling again. The phone rings, so you get up to answer it. “She is a princess, Birdie!” Liv fusses. “Daddy even said so!” You chuckle to yourself as you pick up the phone.

“Hey, I just wanted to call and tell the girls goodnight,” Roger says. “Are they still awake?”

You look over at the clock. “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize how late it is. Yeah, they’re here.”

He stops you before you can put the phone down. “Still wearing that dress?” he murmurs.

You giggle. “Of course I am.”

“Hmm,” he chuckles. “Can’t wait to get you out of it.”

“Oh really, Mr. Taylor?” you giggle. The girls hear you and rush over to the phone. “Here they are,” you say before you hand them the receiver and go to clear the table.

After getting the girls ready for bed, you tuck them in and start to walk out the door. “Are you really a princess, Y/N?” Birdie asks. “Because I don’t think you are.”

“She is!” Liv yells. “I told you. Daddy even says she is. He saw her with a wand and everything!”

“Yeah? How do you even know?” Birdie yells back with exorbitant sarcasm.

“Because yesterday when Uncle Brian was here I told him that she was a princess!” Liv started to explain. “And Uncle Brian asked if she had a wand and daddy told him that she’s really good with her hand on his wand!”

You start to choke on the deep breath of air you just inhaled. “Alright, girls, it’s time to sleep.” You turn out the light and start to walk out.

“Will you be here again tomorrow morning?” Birdie asks. “Like you were the last time you were here?”

“Yeah, Y/N!” Liv shouted. “Please be here in the morning!”

You giggle. “We’ll see. Now get some sleep, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow regardless.”

As soon as you get back downstairs, the phone starts to ring. You rush to answer it before the girls come running down. “Hey, it’s me,” you hear Roger say.

“Just put them in bed,” you tell him.

“I’m not calling to check up on you,” he chuckles. “I just wanted to let you know this is dragging on longer than I thought.” He starts to whisper. “I wouldn’t be opposed to coming home and seeing you completely naked in my bed.”

“You just want me to use my hand on your wand again,” you tease and hear him start to breathe worriedly. “Oh, don’t worry, silly. I just hope you don’t want to eventually have to share me with Uncle Brian. You’re clearly giving me a reputation.”

He starts to laugh before toning his voice back down to a whisper. “No, no sharing. Not with Uncle Brian. Or anyone, for that matter.” You hear someone calling him in the background and he hurries to finish the conversation. “Be a good girl, now.”

“I’m always a good girl, Mr. Taylor.”

And because you’re a good girl, you take his hint and go to his bedroom when you’re ready to sleep, take off your dress – and everything else you’re wearing – and climb under the sheet. You drift off to sleep, but you’re not sure for how long. But you do wake up, laying on your back, when you feel someone's hands running along your naked body.

You look over through your sleepy eyes and see Roger, laying on his side, his hand sliding over your breast, his thumb rubbing little circles over your erect nipple. His hand roams over your hip and caresses your thigh, smoothly and lightly. You smile at him, completely comfortable and relaxed, and here he is, touching you.

He slides his head closer to you, and you part your lips, expecting a kiss, but his kiss lands on your cheek, and another on your earlobe. His exploring hand slides back up the inside of your thigh and slightly grazes your your labia, causing you to sigh. He nudges your jaw with his nose, turning your head slightly away from him, before his lips discover the newly exposed expanse of neck. "Mmm," you moan lazily. He places his fingers over your clit and moves them in a wide, slow circle. "Oh, Roger," you breathe, so beautifully tortured.

His lips move across your neck, from right to left, as you roll your head slowly from one side to the other to allow him access. His hand between your legs continues on its lazy journey. As you start to roll your hips against it, he applies more pressure, increasing his speed.

His mouth trails down from your neck as he shifts his body to bring his head to your breasts. His other hand appears, supporting each breast in turn, massaging them as his lips and tongue run across them. He takes each nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and rolling his tongue around. Your breathing, already heavy, turns into sheer moaning. "I love the sounds you make," he whispers as his middle finger starts to glide up and down along your slit.

This elicits another longer moan. You’ve been awake only a few minutes and you’re already wet enough to drown in. He slips his finger inside, toying with you. His lips quit your tender nipples and make their way lower, kissing a line across your belly. He lays down on his stomach, legs hanging off the end of the bed, as he kisses a trail across your abdomen and down a winding path toward your cleft. He moves his finger deeper inside you as his lips find the upper folds of your labia. His tongue shoots out, tracing circles around your clit before covering it with his mouth to suckle it. Over and over he presses against it with his tongue before bringing his lips over it to kiss and suck some more.

He drags his tongue down to where his finger still curled and pumping inside you, joining them together, soaking in your juices, sliding inside with his mouth smashed against you, lapping up your nectar. He lingers here for an hour, a day, a week – you can't tell. You only know the gentle movement of his finger, his strong tongue sliding inside you, the sucking and slurping as he enjoys every single second. This is all so new to you – along with that night last week – having a man, a real man – not some boy – do everything he can to make you feel this way. To worship you. You can easily cum right now, but you don’t let yourself. You want this to last as long as possible.

He moves back to your clit, lingers there a while, taking turns sucking at your little nub and then moving back down to thrust his tongue deep inside you. You start to writhe and moan beneath his seductive torture, and start to whisper his name. "Oh, Roger, you gasp. "Oh, yes…yes, please… Roger…" Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as you pump your hips, grinding yourself into his face. You hold yourself up on your elbow – you want to watch him – and your movements become wild, so he simply holds his tongue out, allowing you to fuck it, only tilting his head slightly up and down as you run your pussy over it again and again.

As you cum, he ducks his head down to lap up all the juice that’s flowing freely from you. He runs his tongue up over your lips again and again, from the bottom to the top, sucking up every drop of fluid that comes. "Oh, Roger, god, that's fucking incredible," you groan as the surge of your orgasm wells up and wrecks your body as your thighs spasm and squeeze his head between them.

You fall back, exhausted. "Fuck," you say between deep breaths. After he finishes licking you clean, he stands up, wiping at his lips with his finger and thumb and smirks at you. His cock pokes through the flap in his boxers, inviting you to play. He crawls back on the bed, hovering himself over you as he hypnotizes you with his eyes, smiling and leaning in for a kiss. Your hands reach his waist, pushing his boxers down before dragging your nails up to his back. “May I?” you ask in a whisper as your hand gently grabs hold of his already rock hard member, rubbing slowly up and down the shaft. His smirk is the only answer you need.

He lays down on his back and you position yourself between his legs, sliding your tongue up and down his thighs just a little, before moving to the base of his cock, licking his balls, slowly, kissing them, letting your lips slightly graze them. You glide your tongue up the whole length of his shaft, just once, before looking at him with a devilish grin. “Does this feel good?” you ask, keeping your hand around it, letting your tongue flick up and down just underneath the head. His cock jumps slightly and he groans, his hand finding its way to your hair. You slowly, sensually kiss the tip over and over, with little pauses in between, looking up at his eyes the whole time.

“Wow, Y/N,” he groans with a slight chuckle. “Who taught you how to do this?” You wrap your warm, wet lips over the tip and let them slide off his cock again.

“You just lay back and enjoy,” you say, giggling as you wrap your mouth back around the tip, slowly licking the precum into your mouth. You kiss up and down his cock slowly before letting mouth wrap around, tighter this time, sucking more of his cock this time, never taking your eyes from his. His hand rests on the back of your head as you bob up and down, taking as much as you can in your mouth and using your hand to take care of the rest.

“Stop,” he groans. “I want to be in you,” he says, pulling you up and laying you on your back. He hovers over you once more, leaning down to kiss you slowly, deeply, as he pushes his dick inside. “So… fucking tight,” he groans as you gasp, slowly and gently thrusting himself in and out of you until you can take every last inch of him.

“Don’t be gentle, Mr. Taylor," you tell him with a smirk as he looks down at you. You know what you want. You want to be fucked hard and fast. You’ve waited what felt like eons to get back here in his bed and you were going to enjoy this.

“You’re not such a good girl, are you Y/N?” he chuckles. You hold on for dear life, gripping the sheets as he plows into you with a force you never knew was possible. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

His voice, the sound of his raspy voice always does things to you, but hearing him talk to you like this, in this moment, is creating a new feeling. “You make me that way, Mr. Taylor,” you groan. His thrusts get harder, and you’re doing your best not to make too much noise, but with every push, your moans get louder and louder. He leans down and takes your nipple in his teeth, biting down gently before pulling away and doing the same to the other one.

He nuzzles his face in your neck, nibbling gently, and you can hear his heavy panting in your ear. “You’ve never been properly fucked, Y/N,” he groans. “I’m going to show you how you should be fucked all the time.” He leans back up and throws your legs up on his shoulders so he could get his perfect cock even deeper into your pussy. Your legs start to violently shake, and your entire body follows and you can't silence or hold back the screams that emanate from deep within your core. “Now you’re being a good girl,” he grunts. You’ve lost all control over your body. Your pussy starts to spasm in ways it never had before, your body completely part of every wave of pleasure that is coursing through you.

"Oh my god!" you scream, looking up to see his beautifully ruthless eyes. He’s enjoying doing this to you, making you scream and writhe with pleasure. He pounds into you harder and faster, making you scream even more as your back arches, every inch of your body shaking with an uncontrollable thrill. You didn’t think it could get any better than last time. You were wrong. "I can't take any more!" you shout out, begging him to stop.

"Yes, you can Y/N,” he growls. “I thought you were a good girl."

"I am, but..." He doesn't let you finish. He fucks you even harder until you scream again, your body twisting, trying to get away from him. The pleasure is so intense it’s almost too much. You’ve never experienced such a torturous pleasure. "Fuck! Fuck! Stop!"

"Good girl needs a break?" he laughs as he stops and lays your legs back down to the bed.

"Fuck! Yes. I'm weak," you giggle. He pulls out of you and laughs as he looks at you laying in a naked heap on the bed, panting like a dog. He already destroyed you and it’s only just begun.

"How about a new position?" he asks. You slowly nod your head. "Get on your hands and knees. I want to see that ass.”

"Like this?" you giggle, wagging your ass at him, tauntingly.

"Mmm.. That is a fantastic ass." He gets into position behind you, gives you a playful grab and slide his cock into you again. He leans down and whispers into your ear. "You feel so good. I could fuck you like this every day."

"I couldn’t handle this every day,” you giggle. “It's too much.”

"I thought you were a good girl. Where’s my good girl?" he asks as he slams his cock into you. You make a wounded whimper as his cock hits the tenderest part inside of you. But he doesn't stop, instead he keeps slamming into you with the kind of force a good girl like you enjoys.

Your body responds, instantly cumming all over his meat. He grips your shoulders, pulling you closer to his dick so he can slam into you even deeper. You stop trying to fight it, letting him pull your hair as he pounds you. You scream again, hoping like hell the girls don’t hear you. You sound like you’re being wounded and destroyed. You sound like someone else right now, but you’re completely in the moment, loving the painful pleasure that he’s giving you. No one else can fuck you this hard. No one else can make you feel the things that he’s making you feel right now.

As amazing as he is at fucking, you know that he probably fucked like this with every girl that he’s been with. You aren't special to him. You know that he’s every girl's favorite and of course, he’s yours. It doesn't mean you’re his favorite. It meant that he’s the best fuck in the world and you don't know why you’re even thinking about this right now. He’s ravishing you right now. You need to relax and enjoy it.

You cum again. You’ve cum more times with him in the time he’s been fucking you than you had in the past two years with other guys. He smacks your ass hard a few times and this only makes you cum harder. The pleasure is too much, way past your threshold yet you force yourself to take more of it, to cum as many times as he can make you.

"There's my Y/N,” he groans. “Take my cock like a good girl. There you go. Cum on my dick. You're so fucking sexy." You scream incomprehensible gibberish as you cum yet again, and then again. There was no stopping him. You’re losing your damn mind, unable to comprehend how much you’ve cum when he finally leans down and whispers into your ear with a commanding tone. "You're mine. This pussy is mine. Do you hear me?”

"Yes, it's yours!" you scream, and you mean it. If you could cum like this all the time with him, you will. You’ll give him your pussy. You’ll give him everything he wanted because you know no one will ever make you feel the way he does.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming, Y/N." He leans over you as he finishes himself off inside you. The sounds he makes as he ejaculated – half moan and half scream? There’s no sexier man on the planet than Roger at this very moment. You can feel him go limp as he slides out of you and falls to the bed, exhausted.

“Aww, Mr. Taylor needs a break?” you giggle, rubbing his back and kissing him on his shoulder. He turns his head to face you, greeting you with a beaming smile. “That was…”

“Phenomenal.”

“I was going to say incredible, but that works too.”

“Come here,” he groans, rolling on his side and pulling you to him. He holds you tight and you both start to drift off to sleep.

You know you’re in trouble. You know you can't say no to him. You’d let him do anything he wanted to your body and you know it won't be long until he catches on that you’d do anything for him. What man wouldn't take advantage of this situation? Then again, what girl wouldn’t?

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People who said they wanted this filth: @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @dankgreens @capan-devereaux @langdonzvoid @woaholland @maggieroseevans

[battlestar-royco]

let’s talk about tropes

here’s a little (little?!) post on tropes, as promised!

some tropes i hate and why i hate them

love triangles: this one’s pretty simple and obvious. love triangles are unrealistic and toxic. they romanticize emotional cheating, and they cause nasty ship wars in fandoms, especially when two of the points in the triangle are women. often, the “losing” point of the triangle is a one-dimensional throwaway character who either gets killed off or accepts their fate and steps back for the “winner” to take over. this dynamic can get especially problematic when the “loser” is a woc and the “winner” is white, when the “loser” is an lgbtq+ character, and/or when the “loser” has no purpose other than to create drama for two other fleshed out characters. the character often ends up being hated for bad writing and “getting in the way” of the endgame ship. yikes. the only valid resolution to love triangles, imo, is a polyamorous relationship!!!

girl hate: it’s rare to see nice friendships and romances between women, and often this trope is used to drive an unnecessary wedge between two female characters who would have otherwise been great friends. i don’t mind when two women/girls are in conflict with one another for an interesting reason, but i absolutely hate when the conflict is based on something stereotypical and boring. the “girl hate” conflict is always based on something misogynistic, unrealistic, and/or stupid--like a man, looks, sexual practices, or a contrived competition. this is especially gross when the men in the story act as the voices of reason in the conflict, patronizing the women and teaching them how to be nice and use logic.

“strong female characters”: many writers mistake “strong” characters for characters who employ violence, sassiness, and masculine attributes to get what they want. I’m so over it. all I want is nuanced representation of women that doesn’t reduce them to a love interest or a sex object who looks down on other women. strength comes in many forms, and everyone defines it and identifies with it differently.

miscommunication: this has to be one of the laziest forms of prolonging drama, when two characters are fighting because of something that could easily be solved if they were locked in a room together for five minutes.

incest/incest-adjacent romances: this should go without saying, but we’re for some god-awful reason going through a period where incestuous relationships/fake-outs (ie, you’re in love with him? too bad he’s your brother. oh wait, it’s revealed that he’s not!/you two are blood related but you either never met or you went through a period of separation, so that means you can fall in love) are heavily romanticized or used to create extra drama, and it’s just unnecessary and not cute. i think authors use this to add some sort of edge or uniqueness to their writing, but it’s just so toxic and a complete turn-off for me.

aesthetic oppression: (term inspired by and similar to “aesthetic conflict,” thanks kat) when an author throws in some sort of oppression that is experienced by people in real life, but they either don’t address the oppression thoroughly or they only use it to add some sort of edge to their story and further a character’s romance, death, redemption arc, etc. for example, the homophobia in GOT season 6, which reduced loras to a walking stereotype of a gay man before he was subjugated by the church sept and blown up, and the patriarchy in ACOTAR that only exists to show how feminist rhysand is.

boys/men fighting, having tantrums, or expressing themselves through violence: it’s fine for male characters to fight every once in a while, but i just hate that this seems to be exclusively employed with male characters and it is used as a solution or reaction to problems when realistically, men are much more nuanced. men cry. they might be alone or in front of others. they might cry into their pillow or on a friend’s shoulder. fictional men add violence and anger to their sadness because the authors don’t want to emasculate them, but that’s a stupid goal and crying doesn’t affect someone’s gender. smashing your belongings when you are upset is unhealthy and potentially dangerous, and so is physically fighting others over trivial or patriarchal issues (ie a woman) when conversation could be/is probably much more compelling and effective. it’s important to show men that anger isn’t always the first emotion to feel under duress and that they don’t have to express their feelings by punching walls or throwing their belongings across the room. (also?! practically? YOU’RE RUINING YOUR OWN FUCKING STUFF AND/OR YOUR ROOMMATE/FRIEND/PARTNER’S STUFF, YOU ASSHOLE.)

sexy immortals: immortality can be used in clever and entertaining ways, but i feel like a lot of the immortals i’ve been seeing lately run in the same vein as the twilight vampires, which is to say: unearthly beautiful (aka conventionally attractive), overly sexy (aka stalking a love interest for the sake of “attraction”), apparently 16-25 years old (aka accessible to grown women who read/write ya).

uninvolved parents or non-existent guardian figures: sometimes young characters don’t have parents and that’s fine; some of my favorite books are about characters with one parent or no parents. but i still feel like we’re coming out of a period where it was very popular to kill off the parents (especially moms) at the beginning or before the story starts. i really want to see more exploration of characters with parents, or at least see the characters without parents make significant relationships with adults or react appropriately to the loss of their parents.

one-off character deaths: when a character enters one chapter or episode of a book/show just to immediately die for cheap emotional manipulation. this character is also sooooo often a marginalized person, and it’s super predictable and tired. try harder, author/screenwriter!

some tropes i love and why i love them

special snowflake/chosen one: I can’t explain it. I know it’s so cliche and one of the most hated ones out there, but I love when this trope is done right. I’m not a big fan of the chosen ones who have a special destiny, especially if the mc is a white boy, because that’s been done a million times before. but I’m a sucker for that one character who comes upon an unexpected special ability/object/creature or connection to a force of good/evil/nature and has to contend with that. They’ve been Chosen and they’re completely unprepared, and it’s gonna change their life trajectory and relationships and maybe even political climate.

woobies!!!: I feel like this trope is so underrated and it’s one of my favorites of all time. I absolutely love rooting for that one character who’s too good for any of the shit they’ve been through and Deserves Better^TM, but they manage to survive and grow against all odds.

found family: i love that authors are expanding the concept of family and unconventional narratives about love. the found family trope is so charming and relatable to many readers, and it’s great to see seemingly contrary characters come together to find a loving home together that isn’t necessarily romantic.

soft characters: it’s rare (though increasingly less rare, fortunately) to find soft boys, aka male characters who are compassionate, funny, kind, pensive, and/or quiet instead of brash, loud, violent, and angry. i know so many boys and men who fall all along the spectrum of masculinity, and it would be great to see more characters who represent that, especially because male characters are typically forced to express their masculinity in one way. i also absolutely love seeing women being equally as soft and kind--with the exception of ASOIAF!sansa, i feel like this kind of character has been cast aside for the sassy, rebellious, empowered^TM female character who isn’t like other girls and wields a bunch of weapons. i’d really like to see more female characters whose strengths come from empathy, intelligence, and emotion.

unique relationships within a friend group/ensemble: this one is marginally related to my love of found families. not only do i really like tight, strong friend groups, but i also like when each of the friends within that group has a different and compelling dynamic (hostile, romantic, friendly, tragic, whatever may have you) that can carry a scene or an arc. unique relationships between all the characters in an ensemble adds so much dimensionality to a story.

complex guardian figures: this mostly applies to ya, but i think it can also be said for many adult books and tv shows. adult characters often get flattened or sidelined for romance or action plots when in reality almost everyone has parent/guardian relationships, and these relationships are the source of so much complexity. that complexity may mean love, found family, anger, patronization, manipulation, and more, and all these things will be expressed differently based on the characters in question. for example, look at the difference between eleven and hopper from stranger things and harry and dumbledore from harry potter. hopper and dumbledore are so different and each of them carry darkness and baggage that comes out on the kids for better and worse. bonus points if the guardian is a woman, because these types of relationships between girls and women are relatively rare to the ones between boys and men.

anti-heroes/anti-villains: i think this is another one that goes without explaining. we’re all the hero of our own story, after all. if an author can successfully convince me to root for a character who i know is wrong but believes they’re in the right, or for a character who does the wrong things for the right reasons, there’s a good chance that i think very highly of that author.

stoic, bitter, angry characters: if there’s one character in the ensemble who has any of these traits, there’s a good chance they’ll be my favorite, especially if that character is a woman. usually this character’s journey is about what makes them vulnerable and how they become close with the most unlikely companions or form a special relationship with a foil character. it makes the audience feel like we’re being let in on a secret, specifically about that character.

and that’s about it! my inbox is always open to talk more in depth about any of these and more, so let me know. thanks so much for 700, you all are great :D

[lemonietrinket]

Mishap ||| Yuta x Reader

Summary: Yuta is not known for his woodwork skills. He is also not known for any common sense that would also come with it. However, good things can be made of the worst scenarios, and Yuta is not completely inept—no matter what Winwin tries to assert. Genre: Comedy Warning(s): Some swearing (2x s**t) Word Count: 2361 Theme Song: Rock it For Me - Caravan Palace AN: I tend try to make my oneshots gender-neutral but in this circumstance, this is a fem!Reader. Sorry if this puts anyone off :(( Also this is written in 3rd person so, that’s a thing? Anyways this has been a long time coming (remember that yuta fic i mentioned i was writing back in like november of something? this is it bois) so I hope the wait has been worth it

~~~

Yuta had made a mistake.

This wasn’t unlike Yuta who, known for many talents such as his sharp tongue and wit, as well as his dashing good looks, was not particularly known for rationality and sense.

And—yes, perhaps in hindsight he should have asked the landlord how thick the apartment walls were, and yes, perhaps he should have requested Johnny’s help in the matter, who, though lacking in the same departments as Yuta, did possess more of a proficiency in woodwork. However, that would require more than three levels of sensibility—an area of which, Yuta was steadfastly stuck at level two. 

And so, there Yuta lay, crooked upon the debris of his IKEA shelving he’d been attempting to attach to his wall; the lower half of his body in his apartment, the rest... well, that was in next door’s.

Now normally, he would have presumed, this wouldn’t have been such an issue, lacking the grand scale characteristic of Yuta’s mishaps. The person who inhabited the next-door apartment was very busy, he’d rarely bumped into her, and when he had, it was always notably a very brief encounter. Always in a rush, Y/N was a good neighbour, Yuta knew. Never one to bother a soul, she was respectful, determined and very focused upon her job. Yuta also had discerned—from that good wit I mentioned earlier—that she was also rather easy to fluster.

He hadn’t inclined to discover it, and was rather startled to find it, but the first time he spoke to her and he’d met her gaze, she plundered from the realms of reserved and controlled into (oh he couldn’t help but describe) a bumbling, blushy mess.

Which was cute.

But he never had intended to encroach on your personal space. You were career-focused, and he probably also had too little time, if he was quite honest with himself; in the end, he figured that your story was not for his co-authoring and thus he would, quite rightly, let you be. 

However, Fate—or was it Misfortune?—had other ideas.

Because this was a Yuta-scale mishap. 

As not only was Y/N in the front room of her apartment when Yuta ever-so-suavely-and-totally-not-accidentally flung himself through the wall, she was also only garbed in a very, very small towel. 

.

Truth be told, this was another action of Fate or Misfortune, as Y/N had, in fact, messed up her timings again.

Keeping on top of all the small, consistent tasks of her job that each day held was an easy enough assignment. However, the ability of micro-managing seemed to not have seeped into her home life, hence laundry day had been the most recent victim to pay the price.  Thus, Y/N had relinquished her exit from the shower to be garbed in a spare, slightly-bigger-than-average handtowel.

It did the trick—it wasn’t as if anyone was going to see her, right?—and all seemed well, even as her boss who out of poor mind—or was it spite, because quite frankly why would a man in possession of a soul call on the landline after being begged eight times to not do so for the sake of a humongous phone bill—rang the landline to enquire about the progression of a report she was managing.  She headed into the main room, shivering at the chill emanating from the window left ajar out of habit, and answered, carefully and intrinsically masking her exasperation so he would be unprepared for the earful he was going to receive the next morning.

The wired phone that seemed like a good idea at the time (which was based on the vintage style, block baby blue matched to the curtains and looked chic as hell—just a shame the lead didn’t extend beyond a couple of feet) hung loosely in her hand, held at just a distance so the cold plastic wouldn’t come into contact with her bare skin and brand her with stab of iciness.  Even as the man tumbled through the wall and onto her silver carpet.

Her eyes drifted across the cacophony of torn plaster, scraps of tawny grain strewn amongst the immaculate sea of grey, before they rested upon the sheepish smirk of the man pretending that this hadn’t impacted his confidence in the slightest.

“Hey.” He flashed a gleaming smile. Though upside-down, it perhaps appeared slightly more menacing.

Y/N screamed. It was uncharacteristic, but a reflex nonetheless and she sighed at herself exasperatedly, willing her body to move towards something to throw instead.

Yuta’s grin immediately slipped from his face, as he spun himself onto his front, a palm levied in an apology. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, this was a mist—”

Y/N clutched at her towel, haphazardly trying to pull the hem further down her thighs, while not letting it slip from her torso, her feet twitching to head towards the kitchen. 

Yuta felt his throat tighten out of sheer embarrassment, snapping his eyes closed and pushing through with his frantic apologies. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m not looking—I won’t! You... I...”

Watching him tilt his head away, his eyes no longer trained on her, Y/N managed to retrieve her rationale, as well as her breath. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I...” he swallowed, hand falling to support himself on his elbows, “was putting up a shelf—”

“A shelf? You’re in my apartment!”

He glanced back, biting his tongue to stop himself remarking ‘only half’, he knew this was not the time for jokes, and kept his eyes firmly closed. “I know, I’m sorry, I misjudged—”

“Yeah, no shit!”

“—the wall, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Stay here!” Y/N ordered. “Don’t move! I’m not discussing this with you right at this moment, when I’m not...” Words faltered as she was reminded of her bare skin.

“No, of course, I’ll be right here, I promise. Please, do whatever you need.”

The sincerity in the strange man’s voice shocked her, to say the least. She still wasn’t going to leave him to his own devices, however. A spark of inspiration hit her, as she snatched her mobile from the end table, propped it up on the sofa and set the camera on record.  Then she slipped back into her bedroom, throwing herself into the first clothes she could find.

Yuta very hesitantly opened his eyes once he heard footsteps pad away and a door close. 

The first thing his eyes met was the mess he’d made on her lovely carpet. The next thing was the sight of just how little of the shelving remained, with bits of wood scattered like a shipwreck upon a silver ocean. The final thing was the phone propped op on the couch opposite, no doubt recording his moves.

Smart, he thought, as he sheepishly waved at the camera lens.

Y/N returned very quickly, slipping back through the door, her eyes focused upon the man sat like a schoolboy amongst his carnage. Dressed in unmatched pyjamas, her features were harden in concentration. In her hands was a wooden pole, fashioned with a metal hook at the end. Yuta swallowed thickly. She was holding it most definitely as if she knew how to use it to make it hurt. 

And Yuta couldn’t deny that she probably did. 

“What’s your name?” she demanded, after several seconds of eyeing him up and down.

“Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta.”

“You live next door?” 

He nodded compliantly. “Always have done. I was here before you moved in.”

“How long?”

“Sorry?”

“How long were you here before I moved in?” Her eyes searched his for something. Yuta couldn’t tell what however.

“I...?” he stuttered. He didn’t know what to say to that, or to reassure her. “I don’t know, really. A few months? I haven’t really been counting anything.”

She stared him down, eye to eye, weapon brandished to her intruder. He raised his head further, palms raised in surrender, slightly fearing the worst.

Then she put down her guard, hook knocking the floor. 

“I recognise you now,” she sighed, looking at him with disdain, “you really are my neighbour and you really did just break through my wall because you really are that shit at woodwork—Jesus. Christ.”

How she hadn’t recognised him at first astounded her too. He had grown out his hair, yes, and he seemed a little broader, but his eyes were the same dark spools of wonder that she’d accidentally stared into for too long in that one encounter. And anyhow, it wasn’t as if the small changes made him look any different, it just made him look more...

She caught her words before she finished that sentence. He fell through your wall, she asserted in her head, you cannot go anywhere near words like that around someone dumb enough to—

He cocked his head quizzically. She was talking as if she knew him, after all.

Y/N discarded her weapon—which he now recollected was a tool to pull down the ladder on the side of the building—against her sofa which she collapsed onto, retrieving her phone languidly. It was as she pressed the button to stop recording when she glanced at him.  She paused. “Mark? Friend of yours? He told me one time that you’re not exactly the best at woodwork.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Oh Mark! Mark Lee? Yes, yes, good friend of mine!” It was only then that the realisation sunk in. “Wait, Mark said what—?”

“You didn’t hear anything from me,” Y/N sighed, leaning forward to get a closer look at the mess of the wall and on her floor. “Well, that must be a good... what? Tenner? Down the drain?”

Catching onto her question he shook his head. “No, 30. Plus hinges.”

Her eyes widened. “Jesus.”

He picked at one of the slabs, splintered at one end and snapped completely at the other. “Yeah, I made the mistake of choosing one of the slightly more expensive units...”

When he looked back up, Y/N was shaking her head desperately, brow creased and vision narrowed upon the hole in the wall.

“Yuta! You—” she exclaimed, hesitating before looking at him. Her eyes were pained, breath shaky as she clenched her fists at her knees.  “Do you have any idea how much that is going to cost, Yuta?” she managed. “I can’t afford barely any of the prices required to fix that! Do—do you know how much your stupidity is going to cost me?!”

The words fell from his lips without a moments hesitation. “I will pay for all of the repairs,” he said earnestly, “I’ll cover all of it.”

The woman was stunned to say the least. Her breath stopped, silenced, and hung in the air as if it had been snatched away from her, as she stared into his eyes, searching for honesty.

“You’ll pay?”

“Yes.”

“For all of it?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll take full responsibility?”

“Of course!”

“You’ll pay f-for the hole?”

“Yes.”

“And the re-plastering?”

“Yes.”

“And the paint?”

“Yes!”

“And my broken plant pot?”

“There was a plant pot?!”

She pointed to the scattered soil and ceramic shards to his right, and the overturned shrub bowed amongst it.  “Yes, his name is Jeffrey.”

“I’m so sorry Jeffrey!”

“It’s ok he’s a strong boy.”

“Thank god. I’ll pay for Jeffrey too.”

“For his lavish new pot?”

“He’ll have the best damn pot in the entire garden centre.”

Honesty was all that she found.

She straightened in her seat. “Well that’s going to be a lot of money.”

“It’s fine,” he waved a hand, “it’s my fault entirely, and besides, you’ve got better things to spend your money on.”

She frowned. “Like what?”

He glanced around her apartment’s living room. “Fancy things no doubt. Things to make you happy, things to make you smile. Things you need to distract yourself from all the mess required to fix the huge ones stupid men make of your walls.”

She laughed softly at that. Though she stopped herself, there was something about the way he spoke that meant she couldn’t help but be amused, even in spite of the situation. His voice of silk, ebbed with a lilt of something, and flowed through her head like streams of water flowing back to the sea on a sun-kissed beach.

“I think you’re right,” she hummed, rising to her feet. Stepping carefully towards the carnage, she outstretched a hand. “Need some help, Mr Nakamoto?”

He took a glimpse down at the pieces of wood and plaster and bits that made up a wall. A glimpse was all he could muster though, as he felt his eyes be drawn back up to meet yours again. He felt the need to stare into them for as long as he could, not that he could deduce quite why. “I think I could use some, Miss...?”

“Y/L/N.”

He took your hand, levying himself out from the carnage with your aid.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”

“My pleasure,” she replied, curtsying swiftly with a scoff as she headed towards her dining table.

Dusting himself off and checking the scale of the mess, he only looked up when she returned. He accepted her open laptop with open arms, but confusedly to say the least. It was logged on, with the cursor flashing along the search bar. 

“Y/N...?”

She peered over her shoulder coyly. “Well, you promised to get me the best pot for Jeffrey. You’d better start searching for it.”

He grinned, feeling relief wash over him. Sitting on the sofa where she had been perched, he placed the laptop upon his thighs.  “And once I find it?” he enquired neatly, eyes glimmering at the back of her head, caressed with tresses catching the setting sunlight from through the window.

Slapping a replacement pot found from the depths of her cupboards on the table victoriously, Y/N stepped over towards Jeffrey laid strewn on the carpet. Cradling him in her hands, she made her way to temporarily re-home him. “Well then... I guess you’d have to take me to the shop and buy it for me.”

Gazing at your back, he felt his lips twist into a smile, catching onto what you were inferring.

Maybe this wasn’t a mishap after all. Perhaps it was a Yuta-scale twist of fate, instead.

~~~

AN: im sorry this is so late, but its up now!

i tried real hard to funny i hope i succeeded :((

thanks for reading!

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