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imagines--galore · 1 year

Note

If you don't want a funny one, and something sweet. Maybe a reader whose usually loud but is drunk for the scene and just wants to cuddle but starts crying when Sherlock tries to pull away

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Fluff. No warnings. A/N: Pfffft I can just imagine Sherlock panicking when theres tears lol Also I just LOVED this gif, I mean there is hesitation there but also affection so SQUEAL!

It wasn't often that you got drunk. But when you did, you got absolutely smashed. Not because you drank a lot, but because you were a lightweight. It took only a couple of drinks before you were tipsy, and a few more for you to be riding that high that came with alcohol.

So perhaps going out to celebrate a friend's birthday at a wine tasting hadn't been the best of plans. But it was your friend's birthday and it would be rude not to attend. And even ruder to go against everyone else's plans and not join in the wine tasting.

Suffice to say, after a couple hours you were sloshed.

Somehow, you managed to find your way out of the establishment and into a cab. Managing to slur out the address you were to go to, you tried your best to not fall asleep in the back of the cab. Though you did nod off here and there, only to jerk awake whenever the cab would stop at a red light or an intersection.

Finally, you were stumbling towards the all too familiar door of your residence. Your fingers fumbled with the keys for a good few minutes as you tried to find the one that fit. After a struggle with one key that really got jammed in the keyhole, you pouted at the door as if it had done you some personal offense.

Of course it was right at that moment the door swung open to reveal Sherlock standing there with an ever present condescending look on his face.

Your face, however, broke into a wide smile. "William!"

Even in your inebriated state you knew just how much he loathed being called by his first name. Which was why you used it all the time to get a rise out of him.

Sure enough his nostrils flared and an annoyed gleam came into his eyes as he pursed his lips at you.

Smiling sheepishly you lifted your keys. "Couldn't find my key." You giggled, all but stumbling through the threshold, grabbing the front of his shirt to steady yourself and nearly making him loose his balance.

"When you are aware that you cannot hold your liquor, why must you go about and do so?" Sherlock asked in an angry tone, turning around to stomp up the stairs. "As if you're any better!" You called out behind him, lifting a finger to where you could barely make out as he walked up the stairs.

Somehow, you managed to get up the stairs and into the apartment. It took you a little longer to actually climb all the stairs, but you finally made it. Pulling off your coat and scarf you threw them to the side. "Why is it so hot?!" You whined, before blinking at the fireplace where a fire was burning. "Oh." As the reason registered in your mind you looked around for a place to sit.

Finally deciding on a location you stomped over to it. Removing your shoes along the way, you came to a stand in front of Sherlock's designated armchair. Which was currently occupied by him.

You motioned your hand in a shooing motion. "Skooch."

His gaze lifted from the newspaper he had been reading to fix you with a deadpanned look. "Excuse me?"

Pointing at his armchair you clarified. "I wanna sit there."

An eye roll followed your words. "There are perfectly good seating placements in the rest of the apartment, Y/n. Sit in one of them." You frowned. "But I wanna sit here."

Knowing there was no deterring you from your decision, Sherlock decided that perhaps confusing you with be the best way to go. He set the newspaper aside and looked up at you from his seated position.

"Why?" He asked, that one word holding so much contempt that anyone else would've been put off by it. But you only shrugged.

"Because I wanna sit with you."

Where it had been his intention to throw you off, you did that with just those words. He blinked, his brilliant blue eyes clouding with confusion as he tried to determine why you would want to sit with him.

You sighed. And tired of waiting for Sherlock's response, you simply pushed him back by the shoulder, before climbing into his lap. You threw your legs over the side of the armrest so you could sit more comfortably.

He was definitely annoyed now, or perhaps he was more......confused with the sudden onslaught of feelings that rose within him at having you so close to him. And if there was something Sherlock despised more then anything it was feelings.

They were still new to him, given that he had known you and John for all but a year or so. And though you had all shared in many adventures since then, Sherlock was still finding it difficult to be around people who actually cared about him and didn't just see the asshole persona he put up.

Besides John you had been one of the first ones to call him out on his bullshit. John had nearly laughed himself to death when you had confronted him. Seeing Sherlock speechless truly counted as a Wonder of the World.

"Y/n? Get off." He said, not exactly liking he way his body had involuntarily responded to you being so close to him. His hands twitched at his sides, as if he were physically restraining himself from wrapping his arms around you.

"Hmmmmmmm no." You giggled, all but snuggling closer to him. "You're much more comfortable then a chair William."

"Stop calling me that." He snapped.

"But I like calling you William." You pouted. Suddenly your eyes were swimming in tears. "Don't you like it when I call you William?" It would seem getting drunk made you loose control of your emotions.

Sherlock caught sight of the tears and his eyes widened in panic.

Drunk you he could deal with.

Emotional and weepy you was something he was about to experience while you were drunk.

He finally relented.

Where his hands had been gripping the armrest, one of them slowly came up to wrap around your waist. His touch was hesitant and slow, as if he were unsure of where his hands were meant to go.

Through your cloud of inebriation, which was slowly beginning to loosen its hold on you, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Is this alright?" You asked, a sudden shyness creeping into your voice as you looked at him from under your lashes. He nodded mutely, to which you smiled in response.

The both of you continued to gaze at one another for a few more minutes, unable to look away. "Do you know why I call you by your first name?" You asked, your eyes beginning to grow heavy with sleep as you adjusted to rest your head on his shoulder. Your nose brushed against his chin as you did.

"Enlighten me." He said, though his voice was not above a whisper as he did.

"Because no one else calls you that. And calling you Williams makes me think that you're mine." You admitted, smiling shyly as you fought to keep awake.

Yours.

Perhaps that was not such a bad thing? Belonging to someone, Sherlock mused as he drew hesitant circles where his fingers rested against your back.

"Sentiment will do you no good Y/n." He stated firmly. He waited for you to respond, to rebuff his claim. Yet you said nothing. He peered down at you, only to discover that you were fast asleep.

And as he watched you sleep, Sherlock couldn't help but allow a surge of.......affection to overcome his cold heart. "Then again, perhaps it is not always a bad thing."

So saying he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

#Sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x y/n #bbc sherlock

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 months

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Are we ready for the last ten chapters of this book? Let's GOOO -Danny Words: 2,751 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

L: Wish I Lacked Critical Thinking Skills, Y'all Seem So Happy

"Okay, guys, this isn't funny anymore..."

The seven teenagers look up when Jason enters the Mess Hall. He looks like he's wearing kid's clothing, which causes the entire crew to spit out their breakfast and laugh hysterically.

"Hey, Jason, easy with the growth spurts!" Leo says with a huge smirk on his face.

Since their quarrel four days ago, Leo has been shrinking everything out of pure pettiness. The showerheads can't be rearranged to fit people over 6 feet tall—unless you ask Leo nicely—the doorframes got smaller, and they can't do anything to stop him.

They all love Jason. They also think he's too much of a goody-two-shoes, making him the perfect target for Leo's practical jokes, and they're best friends. It's all harmless fun, really.

"Percy, dude, you gotta be tired of it too," Jason tries to reason, pulling the four-sizes-too-small shirt to cover his abdomen. "You're almost as tall as me."

Percy manages to look condescending when he replies. "Sure thing, Gulliver."

Jason frowns. "Bro, we look the—this is stupid! Here, try this on."

He takes off his shirt and the boys promptly object to it. Leo and Frank cover their girlfriends's eyes. "Man, keep it PG!" Leo complains.

"I know what you're doing!" Jason scoffs, walking to the exit. "Knock it off or I'll hang you upside down on the topmast!"

"Good luck with that," the boy leans back on his seat, casually lighting up the tips of his fingers. "You could get burned."

Jason leaves in a terrible mood and returns with a shirt that's still tighter than it should be, but no one laughs this time, not wanting to push his buttons.

"Piper," Ara says. "You said you knew where to go next?"

"Yeah," Piper seizes her dagger and stares at it frowning. "I just realized this was Helen's. Is this yours, then, or...?"

Ara's face shows nothing but aversion. "Keep it. You were saying?"

"Right. Uh. It showed me palace ruins, full of spirits."

"Good or bad?"

"Definitely bad."

Everyone groans. "And what do you think it means?" Ara asks.

"Probably that we must go there," Frank stabs his fruit salad.

"Yeah, probably," Piper agrees. "Thing is—I don't recognize the place."

"Well, I might have a way to find it," Hazel offers. "If there are so many spirits in that place, I could ask around."

"But Nico said you don't have death-related powers?" Ara raises a brow.

"Yeah, but I can still commune with some spirits. I was dead once, remember?"

The others seem slightly tense when she says that, but Ara grins. "Alright. Annabeth?"

"I'm thinking," replies the girl, still pondering.

"And I love that about you," Ara presses. "About what?"

"I'm trying to recall what kind of place would hold so many spirits in the ancient lands, but I need more information for an educated guess. If Hazel can get it, that'd be helpful."

"Hazel, we're counting on you," Ara gets up. "Enjoy breakfast—I'll be upstairs if you need me."

Jason sits down to eat. Leo's eyes widen slightly, and he quickly follows her out. As they leave the room, Ara hears something hitting the table and Jason self-censors his swearing when his knees slam against the underside. The rest laugh again as Leo picks up his pace and pushes her forward.

"I think it's time you stop torturing Jason," she chuckles, climbing up the stairs to the upper deck.

"Not yet, I enjoy the fear in his eyes when he steps into the same room I'm in," Leo responds with his crooked grin.

"He's your best friend."

"Our friendship ended thanks to his hate speech, Frank is my best friend now."

"And Frank never made rude comments about you," Ara says sarcastically.

"I choose Nico, then."

"The same Nico that let you believe I was cheating?"

"Sunshine, we have a small crew and everyone is hella mean, I'm willing to appoint Bufford as my ride or die if you push it."

"What about me?" Ara complains. "Why am I so far down the list? I should be right after Jason!"

Leo rolls his eyes. "That's different, mi amor. I don't make out with my besties."

"You sure? The tension between you and Jason certainly leaves room for speculation..."

The boy elbows her playfully. "I'm not your best friend either," he argues. "Don't try to guilt-trip me! You have Lily and Nico—"

"Nico's not my best friend," Ara walks up to the control board and scans each monitor, her fingers moving over the Archimedes sphere with expertise.

"You keep saying that, but he's the only guy you talk to in codes. That's a very best-friend thing to do."

"We both like doing that but it doesn't mean—"

"Doll, admit it," Leo crouches beside her and pulls out his toolbox.

"My best friend will always be Michael."

"He was your crush, he doesn't count!"

"He counts! I didn't like him that way from the get-go!"

"But when you did who knew about it right off the bat? Nico and Lily."

"Jason knew about my crush on you since the start, does that make him my bestie?"

"Stop twisting my words," he gets up with a screwdriver in hand. "My point still stands, you and I can't be best friends."

"Percy and Annabeth are best friends."

"That's because they don't have other friends. It's like saying your mom is your best friend. Cute, but sad."

"Leónidas, I swear—"

"Ara!" Hazel comes up running. "I did it!"

Ara forgets about Leo's teasing. "What?"

"I only managed to catch a few words, they were pretty frightened. I don't know if they'll be of any help, though..." Hazel catches her breath. "The suitors."

"Why Ithaca?" Piper questions while Ara shows them a map.

"That's where Odysseus's palace used to be," Annabeth explains.

"No, I know that. What I mean is, why would they gather there?"

"That's where they died," Ara responds.

Hazel and Piper both stare at her. "What?"

"Odysseus went cuckoo when he found that those men were stalking Penny—and after ten years at sea, I'd be done with men too. I've been at sea for two months and I'm ready to go full Achilles on some of them," Ara looks at Annabeth with a straight face. "That was a joke."

"But these can't be just the suitors, right?" Hazel asks confused. "There's no way Odysseus killed so many men."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Ara talks with excitement.

"No, but I can't wait to hear it," Annabeth grins.

"The suitors were power-hungry. They weren't there for Penelope, though she was a nice addition."

"They wanted to be kings," Piper raises a brow. "So you're saying..."

Ara stares at the spot on the map representing Ithaca. "Gaea probably tricked them into believing they're competing to see who'll rule after the war."

"That makes a lot of sense," Annabeth looks at her like she's grown overnight, which she did, though it's a little late to get this reaction. "But Gaea wouldn't bring them back just for that."

"Well, they aren't back exactly," Hazel reminds them. "Perhaps the prize is to get a functioning body?"

"A prize for what?" Piper questions. "What are they accomplishing by staying in Ithaca?"

All the girls share a look and Ara sighs, staring at the map with a scowl. "We should take a look."

"IROS! Is that you, you old beggar?"

Ara pushes Jason forward, he's disguised as an old man. "That's me! Iros!" He exclaims.

Ara slips into the crowd with Piper and Annabeth, dressed up as servers for the feast.

"Guess I'm late to the party. I hope you saved me some food?"

"Ungrateful old panhandler," one ghost sneers. "Should I kill him, Antinous?"

"I'm in a good mood today. Come, Iros, join me at my table."

"I didn't expect to see you here, Iros. But I suppose even a beggar can sue for retribution. Drink. Eat."

The food is definitely not eatable for a normal human. Ara worries, it's been years since she fought ghouls, so they make her nervous. Jason doesn't seem to care about them, he's only glaring at the food. He is in many ways similar to her, but at the core, they're opposites.

He's a cold-headed leader who thinks of every choice before taking a stance. Ara doesn't care for consequences as long as she gets closer to her goals. She's hot-headed, and an emotional fighter. It's always better to be like Jason in moments like this one.

Nonetheless, Jason surprises her by grabbing a piece of meat, biting into it, and then gulping down the suspicious liquid inside his goblet in just the same way she would've done. He miraculously survives the ordeal but turns green with dislike.

"Yum! Now tell me about this... what did you call it? Retribution? Where do I sign up?"

"Tell me, Iros, what do you have to offer? We don't need you to run messages for us like in the old days. Certainly you aren't a fighter. As I recall, Odysseus crushed your jaw and tossed you into the pigsty."

"You made me fight Odysseus. You bet money on it. Even when Odysseus took off his shirt and you saw how muscular he was... you still made me fight him. You didn't care if I lived or died!" Jason complains.

"Of course I didn't care. I still don't! But you're here, so Gaia must have had a reason to allow you back into the mortal world. Tell me, why are you worthy of a share in our spoils?"

"What spoils?"

"The entire world, my friend. The first time we met here, we were only after Odysseus's land, his money and his wife."

"Especially his wife! That Penelope was a hot little honey cake!" Shouts a random ghost.

"Eurymachus, you whining coward. You never stood a chance with Penelope. I remember you blubbering and pleading for your life with Odysseus, blaming everything on me!"

"Lot of good it did me. Odysseus shot me in the heart, just because I wanted to marry his wife!"

"At any rate... We have gathered now for a much bigger prize. Once Gaia destroys the gods, we will divide up the remnants of the mortal world!"

Annabeth and Ara share a look, that's obviously never going to happen. But why did Gaea bring all these men here?

"What about the rest of these... guests? I count at least two hundred. Half of them are new to me."

"All of them are suitors for Gaia's favour. All have claims and grievances against the gods or their pet heroes. That scoundrel over there is Hippias, former tyrant of Athens. He got deposed and sided with the Persians to attack his own countrymen. No morals whatsoever. He'd do anything for power."

"Thank you!"

"That rogue with the turkey leg in his mouth—that's Hasdrubal of Carthage. He has a grudge to settle with Rome. And Michael Varus—"

Jason makes a weird noise with his throat. "Who?"

Ara notices the guy wearing a Camp Jupiter T-shirt. He's far away, yet she can see the tattoo on his forearm... A son of Janus.

"He's a Roman demigod. Lost his legion's eagle in... Alaska, was it? Doesn't matter. Gaia lets him hang around. He insists he has some insight into defeating Camp Jupiter. But you, Iros, you still haven't answered my question. Why should you be welcome among us?"

This guy lost the eagle that Frank, Hazel, and Percy retrieved last June. Ara gets the sudden urge to hide Jason and rush out of the scene, but Annabeth notices their uneasiness and approaches. "More wine, my lord? Oops!"

"Gahh!" The ghoulish man squirms when Annabeth drops liquid on his clothes. "Foolish girl! Who let you back from Tartarus?"

"A Titan, my lord—May I bring you some moist towelettes? Your arrow is dripping."

"Begone!"

Jason stabs the table suddenly, catching their attention. "Why should you welcome me? Because I'm still running messages, you stupid wretches! I've just come from the House of Hades to see what you're up to!"

"You expect me to believe Gaia sent you—a beggar—to check up on us?" Antinous scowls.

"I was among the last to leave Epirus before the Doors of Death were closed! I saw the chamber where Clytius stood guard under a domed ceiling tiled with tombstones. I walked the jewel-and-bone floors of the Necromanteion!" Jason replies dramatically.

Ara's eyes are on Michael, trying to figure out if he's a good omen sent by his father, a taunt of the fates, or simple misfortune. Maybe a mix of all.

"So, Antinous... Maybe you should explain to me why you're worthy of Gaia's favour," Jason keeps talking. "All I see is a crowd of lazy, dawdling dead folk enjoying themselves and not helping the war effort. What should I tell the Earth Mother?"

"If you come from Gaia, you must know we are here under orders. Porphyrion decreed it." Antinous takes the knife Jason placed on the table and cuts his palm to show how it reforms. "You do know Porphyrion..?"

"The giant king—green skin, forty feet tall, white eyes, hair braided with weapons. Of course I know him. He's a lot more impressive than you."

"Now, now, friend!" Eurymachus hugs Jason sideways. "I'm sure we didn't mean to question your credentials! It's just, well, if you've spoken with Porphyrion in Athens, you know why we're here. I assure you, we're doing exactly as he ordered!"

"The Acropolis," Jason's tone changes slightly. "The most ancient temples to the gods, in the middle of Athens. That's where Gaia will wake."

"Of course! And, to get there, those meddlesome demigods will have to travel by sea, eh? They know it's too dangerous to fly over land."

"Which means they'll have to pass this island," Jason continues.

"At that point, they'll have to make a choice, eh? The most direct route, would be due east from here, across the Straits of Corinth. But if they try to go that way—"

"Enough," Antinous stops him. "You have a loose tongue, Eurymachus."

"I wasn't going to tell him everything! Just about the Cyclopes armies massed on either shore. And the raging storm spirits in the air. And those vicious sea monsters Keto sent to infest the waters. And of course if the ship got as far as Delphi—"

"Idiot!" Antinous grabs him and starts to disintegrate him.

"No! Please! I-I only meant—"

Gaea put them there to be another pesky obstacle. Gods, and they believe Gaea cares about them! Must be good to be so full of yourself that you think you're necessary to the plans of a primordial being. Annabeth and Ara consider they have gotten all they could, so it's time to flee. Ara clears her throat and seizes Jason's plate.

"Sounds like everything is under control. For your sake, Antinous, I hope so. These demigods are resourceful. They closed the Doors of Death. We wouldn't want them sneaking past you, perhaps getting help from Delphi."

"No risk of that. Delphi is no longer in Apollo's control."

Ara's hand trembles and almost drops the place, but Annabeth quickly holds it. If Apollo isn't in charge of prophecies anymore, who is?

"I-I see. And if the demigods sail the long way around the Peloponnese?"

"You worry too much. That journey is never safe for demigods, and it's much too far. Besides, Victory runs rampant in Olympia. As long as that's the case, there is no way the demigods can win this war."

Jason doesn't understand that, but he nods anyway. "Very well. I will report as much to King Porphyrion. Thank you for the, er, meal."

"Wait." Varus stares at Jason intently. "You must stay."

"What's the problem, legionnaire?" Antinous frowns. "If Iros wants to leave, let him. He smells bad!"

The boy grips his sword. "I lost my cohort twice in Alaska—once in life, once in death to a Graecus named Percy Jackson. Still I have come here to answer Gaia's call. Do you know why?"

"Stubbornness?" Jason offers.

"This is a place of longing," Varus responds. "All of us are drawn here, sustained not only by Gaia's power but also by our strongest desires. Eurymachus's greed. Antinous's cruelty. Hasdrubal's hatred, Hippias's bitterness. My ambition... I would've been a good son of Olympus too," the boy glances at Ara, which sends a shiver down her spine. "And you, Iros. What has drawn you here? What does a beggar most desire? Perhaps a home?"

"I should be going," Jason says. "Messages to carry."

"My father is Janus, the god of two faces," the boy draws out his sword. "I am used to seeing through masks and deceptions. Do you know, Iros, why we are so sure the demigods will not pass our island undetected?"

Ara doesn't pull Almight out of her pocket, there are too many ghouls and ghosts surrounding Jason. "Look, are you in charge here or not?" Jason looks at Antinous. "Maybe you should muzzle your Roman."

"Ah, but this might be entertaining. Go on, Varus."

"Our desires reveal us. They show us for who we really are. Someone has come for you, Jason Grace." The crowd opens and a young woman steps into the scene. One that can only be Jason's mother.

"My dearest... You have come home."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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shytastemakerthing · 2 months

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Hihi! I see matchups are open and I wanted to give it a shot and request a romantic ensemble stars matchup~ I apologize in advance if this is too long or if I overshared a bit about myself :)

I'm a bisexual/aromantic 19-year-old art student. Ig my love language would be quality time and acts of service? I'm unsure about what to call my style but anything that makes me feel more handsome/cool rather than cute? I guess my way to go is more elegant and fitted clothes with dark and beige colors. I like wearing accessories such as jewelry with chains and anything with moons and stars. My canines are quite long and people have pointed out that they look like fangs. I don't think describing my physical appearance is necessary but is a feature of me that I quite like about myself.

I don't know how to describe myself, personality wise, most of my friends have admitted that I seem unapproachable/intimidating at first, even if I try to be polite enjoy solitude, and make an effort to engage in conversations, as much as I hate small talk. I try to not show much of myself until I trust people, making an effort to be more of a goody-two-shoes than I am to not seem that rude, I guess? I dislike the number of times I'm told to smile or socialize more, especially if I don't have a good reason to. I can be quite open when engaging in topics I'm interested in or if the other person just connects with me, but if otherwise they push my boundaries I'll have a hard time not to call them out. Despite coming off as the typical grumpy cat energy, I ironically become quite chatty and hyped if the other person is as well, but what brings me closer to people are moments of bonding and sharing interests.

If they're comfortable with it, I enjoy being touchy with my friends, throwing flirty jokes, and teasing them, but when it comes to relationships I'm quite awkward and overthink a lot, so communication is important to me. I'm not good at telling when others are just messing with me or if they actually want to start a relationship with me. Especially since I'm aro/aro-spec, dating is quite a struggle for me, and I value a relationship more based on compatibility rather than infatuation and romantic attraction if that makes sense. I guess I'm quite the "I hate everyone but you" type when it comes to a relationship and I don't mind being quite cheesy and clingy, yet I'm still a bit sassy and sarcastic. I don't have a type but if their feelings for me are obvious (either because they show it or if they're awkward and can't hide it) then I'm sold.

I tend to intellectualize my emotions rather than feel them. I consider myself quite self-aware about my issues and my flaws, as well as accepting. I need to feel worthy of a relationship to engage in it, knowing that my partner is happy with me, I often feel touched when people find me reliable and comforting since I'm aware that I'm not the kind of person whom people would describe as their safe space (i have both mommy and daddy issues dunno who is one to blame for my need to comfort others to feel worth it lmao). My schedule is quite chaotic. I struggle with procrastination because of my depression, yet I still need to be productive 24/7 to feel fulfilled, so I switch between bed rotting and pulling all-nighters. Ig I'm quite selfless and stubborn about it since I hate relying on other people and tend to shut down when it's about my issues.

I like learning about art history, drawing, especially character design, watching anime, staying at home, and animals (I have a rabbit). I also love true crime podcasts and crime TV series and engaging in debates as long as they remain respectful.

I hate housework since my lack of motivation gets in the way, crowded and noisy places, feeling tied down, sunlight, condescending people, and being pitied.

And that's pretty much anything? I tried to make this shorter but I feel like it's still quite long, I apologize ^^"

Hello and thank you so much for your request and for your patience as I finish these up! I hope that you enjoy your match-up and have a wonderful day/night!

Request: Romantic Enstars match-up

I match you with........

Koga Oogami

Another member of the 'I hate everyone except for you' club, so that was the first thing the both of you had in common when you first encountered one another at ES

At first, it was a mutual tolerance that grew into an actual relationship after some time

He wasn't all big when it came to touch at first but after some time, it's one of his favorite things.

Like, after one of the lives that his unit held, he wanted nothing more than to come back to your place (given he has roommates) and to just collapse in your arms

Koga isn't one to force small talk, he understands that you don't always want too, though there will be a few times where he merely asks you about your day, if you want anything when he heads out, and the like

He just wants to take care of you

He may come off as a bit brash, but when he's like that with you, you know that's just how he shows his care, he isn't always the best with his words, coming off as a bit brutish from time to time

Doesn't help when he's listened to Rei call him 'puppy' all day

Will certainly watch crime series with you after a long day. You both just get to chill in your pajamas, a nice meal, and a blanket, and you both are set

In the end, he's glad he went to ES that day, otherwise, he wouldn't have met you

Thank you for your request!

#enstars #ensemble stars #Enstars koga oogami #ensemble stars koga oogami #Enstars undead #ensemble stars undead #shy answers #shy writes #match-ups closed #requests open

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pulaasul · 3 years

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It’s 2021 and the Tadashi’s death discourse is still going strong.

I did not expect that the movie released on November 2014 still had strong discourse material, and of course, wouldn’t you know it, its about Tadashi’s death.

I cannot believe that after more than six years since Big Hero 6 has been released, we are still arguing about Tadashi’s death. Which might I remind everyone, caused some other tumblr user it to suicide bait a ‘Tadashi lives’ member.

Huh, I guess Tadashi being alive is an unpopular opinion.

But back from that tangential note, it is quite, as Tadashi would say, unbelievable, that this discourse topic has been going around for more than half a decade.

I will address the elephant in the room first, calling the members of that group as “thirsty on main for an older brother character” makes your argument almost invalid immediately, as you started off with a fallacy.

You then make a separate post by saying “of course, I did not mean all, but I mean if the shoe fits” that’s like saying “sorry, but not really” and wow, that’s some serious shade.

Another thing worthy to note is the fact that you’re making it as if there’s only one way of coping with grief. People finds solace in fictional depictions of grief, while others want to escape reality and find solace in fictional worlds.and both are healthy coping mechanisms for grief as opposed to lashing out at everyone every time you see a differing opinion than yours.

What grinds my gears regarding this topic was how people would say “You just don’t care about the narrative, or Hiro’s development.” Like please, I care so much about the narrative that I find that Tadashi’s entire character writing was inconsistent.

I am not denying that he probably had a life outside of Hiro and Aunt Cass, I am not denying that he has a group of friends that Hiro isn’t privy to, but you cannot deny that in the very first few minutes of the movie, we are literally introduced to Tadashi prioritizing Hiro over his school projects and assignments, then suddenly blurts out “Callaghan’s in there, someone has to help.”. You want me to believe that he’s okay with leaving Hiro near the burning building just to get inside, without making sure that his brother cannot follow him?

There’s no question about Tadashi’s hero complex. Tadashi’s like Harry Potter in that way, he has a thing with saving people, but the one key difference between Potter and Tadashi is that, the older Hamada has one person he prioritizes over other people, and that’s his brother.

That’s why I subscribe to the idea that Tadashi’s death was just there for shock value, tragedy for tragedy’s sake, because of how inauthentic and forced the entire death scene was

I am not demeaning how the movie dealt with grief, I think its one of the movies that has depicted grief well.

Having said that, it does not mean that people, the Tadashi lives crowd, are wholly unaware of what that represents for Hiro’s character writing and his arc but it feels disingenuous to assume that we do not care for Hiro and the narrative.It feels rude and condescending to say that “you entirely missed the point” or even “because you think he died wrong” please don’t put words in our mouths, we were calling out how it was out of character for Tadashi to act that way for that scene, no one was saying “he should have died against the villain” because you missed the entire point of the post.

I’ve seen a lot of really bad “Tadashi is dead and should stay dead” takes within the Big Hero 6 fandom space, from comparing him to the Waynes and Ben Parker, because frankly Tadashi’s circumstance and death really differs to what Ben and the Waynes represent for both Bruce and Peter,to “it’s simply isn’t realistic”, because frankly, the mere fact that Callaghan survived that fire was wholly unrealistic in and of itself [as the microbots should have baked Callaghan alive when he formed a dome to save himself from the flames] but you’re ignoring that fact.

Let’s then address another elephant, It also grinds my gears that wanting Tadashi back somehow means not caring for Hiro’s arc. Yes, Tadashi is back, but that doesn’t mean that everything Hiro went through is somehow gone, things will not return as they are, its bad writing to simply let Hiro continue living as if his brother did not die.

Tadashi being back does not cancel out Hiro’s grief.

#tadashi hamada #big hero 6 #aaaand wouldn't you know it #another tadashi post #to answer a lot of posts about the topic #frankly getting tire of this #theres no convincing you #and theres no convincing me #just stop assuming things about us #also if the shoe fits is condescending and rude

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todourouki · 4 years

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↲ Back to my BNHA Masterlist

i crash, u crash.

SUMMARY: Being with Dabi wasn’t easy and it probably never will be, but he just wants to make sure you’ll stick around. Or in which Dabi tries his best to show you he cares about you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: based off i crash, u crash by lil peep! lol honestly idk about this one. but welcome back gift for me, from me, to you <3

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Dabi & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,476

WARNINGS: Explicit Content, Dabi is toxic, Angst*, NSFW [18+] including spitting, slight daddy kink, squirting, slight overstimulation.

Sex with Dabi was always the same.

Routinely speaking, whenever he was back from a mission was the time you were expected to be on all fours waiting for his attention. It was always rough too, nothing short of angry and aggressive even if it was a form of “love-making.” He could call it what he wanted to though, he knew the universal term for his type of sex was simply fucking.

The positions and their timings were always on schedule. No more than 3 minutes in missionary— all the time in the world doing everything else. You never really got to touch him, and he’s never let you see his face when he came.

The relationship of hot and fiery sex mixed with an unrequited form of codependency grew to an actual romantic one somehow between the days and nights spent together, yet nothing of the dynamic ever changed. The only thing you could recall is that he groggily asked of you to “finally be his girlfriend since you already acted like it.”

Dabi was a complicated person. You never knew if he planned on waking up and deciding he wanted to be single, and honestly the day he decided to do such a thing wouldn’t be a surprise to you. He was an avid participator in the league of breaking hearts and even if you had more than enough knowledge on this, you allowed his sneaky smirk to seduce you into the sheets of his bed and hours of his days.

You eventually found yourself moving in, figuring out that he refused to sleep without the air conditioner on, never wore socks around the house, used way too much salt on his eggs, and never managed to close the curtains after he got out the shower. Above all that though, he never changed the way he fucked you.

Dabi loves you, of course you never had to question it or get reassurance. He showed you in minuscule ways such as stealing bringing you your favorite snacks after a long day without you, doing things such as buying double of what he gets from store runs because you’re in his mind all day, and telling you he’ll be safe for you once he walks out the door. He never says I love you, but he doesn’t need to.

It’s hard to get someone like him to change the way they are, so when you’re sitting on your shared bed flipping through a magazine and see a couples quiz linger across the page, you can’t help but try to feed yourself crumbs of his affection you know you’ll spend a lifetime searching for.

“How long did it take for you to realize you like me?” You broke the silence, squinting at the duo-skin toned man slouched across the wooden headboard.

You heard him chuckle, blinking longly at you with amusement glimmering within his cerulean irises. It wasn’t rare for Dabi to mock you for asking such a thing, but it was a rare moment for you to glare at him deadpanned and genuinely waiting for an answer. It fucking confused him.

“As long as it took you to make me cum the first time.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment enough to make him furrow his eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to not retaliate back, you were always quick to snap back at him. Hearing nothing but his own breathing as you skipped through pages made him furrow his eyebrows. He wanted to ask if you were okay— he really did, but then you’d think he cared.

And Dabi would be a terrible person if he let you know he cared.

The silence was nearly overbearing, nearly deafening in his ears as he tried his hardest to focus on anything but your serious expression haunting him in the back of his mind. Things like this rarely bothered him. It goes to say that Dabi was rarely ever bothered.

Sure, you never asked for much reassurance and never even did as much as ask if he meant it when he asked you out mid-nap, but he really did. Sure, you lived off the whim of thinking it was, but at least the raven haired man knew it was. Right?

The sound of the magazine slamming shut and getting thrown somewhere onto the bed broke Dabi of his thoughts. “I’m gonna’ pee.” You announced, mostly to no one in particular because your soft eyes refused to meet his own. Another rare occurrence.

You lied to Dabi for the first time in your life. Did you really have to pee? Of course not. Did you have to cry in the bathroom for a quick 2 seconds to release the pent up frustration of utter confusion? Of course you did. It was annoying— living with someone and only getting treated as if you were anything in the slightest to him when his dick was inside of you. He only ever fucks you rough and never lets you see his face, and he expects you to believe he wants to be with you?

After cleaning your solemn face from dry tears, your body grudgingly made its way out the bathroom and to the bed. Your presence within the studio was clear, panties strewn across the open drawers mixed with Dabi’s briefs, shoes tucked neatly compared to Dabi’s boots tossed lazily near the door, and perfume bottles layering up against the old brown dresser. You took a quick glance at a picture of you hanging on the wall, a familiar raven-headed man’s arms wrapped around your head as he towered over your frame with his head resting across your head.

It was never worth the confusion.

“Why were you crying?” His dark voice rang out, making you slightly flinch as you dented the soft mattress with your frame.

A quick shake of the head will do, you thought to yourself as you followed your own orders. You knew Dabi wouldn’t push to find out what was wrong, he never does. And he doesn’t, lips shut as he takes a drag from some cigarette he’s smoking and giving you a longing look of aggravation. It’s even less of a surprise for him to do such a thing.

“If you have something to tell me, then I suggest you do it.” If you hadn’t known Dabi for as long as you do, you’d probably assume he was being condescending and outright rude. Because you do know him though, you know that’s exactly how he’s trying to come off to you.

You dreaded it. The eventual confrontation that was inevitable from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend— it all led to this moment in space and time. You felt exactly how you predicted you’d feel, sick and intimidated. Not necessarily by Dabi because you know he’d never hurt you, but intimidated by the fact that it’s as easy as 1-2-3 for him to up and leave depending on your answer.

“What are we, Dabi?” And there it goes, 1-2-3.

It was like hearing a pin drop. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody did anything for the first three seconds following the ultimatum. He knew he had two options: answer genuinely and reveal information he’d die before releasing, or leave you high and dry yet again for his own benefit when it comes to the mere idea of using words he doesn’t use in bed.

Staring into your eyes never scared him, he cremating people for a living, but knowing that lying behind them were tears falling for your reflection rather than on his shoulder caused a pang to hit his chest. It was unfamiliar and unusual, but looking at your body begin to leave its space in the bed in frustration with his quietness made him snap. You were serious for the first time.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Your words were harsh, harsher than usual and you yourself couldn’t even tell where this newfound energy came from.

You were okay. You were okay with whatever this complicated situationship was, and you probably would have still been okay with it if you hadn’t gotten too deep in over your head and let his words get to you. Him saying he realized he liked you coincidentally while you fucked should be above you, yet here you are.

“Jesus doll, relax.” He taunted, hands reaching out to grab your arm in a fit of confusion and annoyance, “just come back to bed Y/N.”

You felt it - the minute he touched your arm and released the tiniest bit of heat coming off his palm - just how tense he was becoming. He knew once you put your mind to something, it was difficult to get you to move away from it. He knew that there was no escaping this conversation.

It was inevitable really, the fact that one day (which was, unfortunately for him, today) you would question the legitimacy of his emotions for you. You were carefree just like him, that’s why he fell for you. But you were also blunt. If you felt a way, you were going to say it and that’s that.

Easily, the scarred hand gripping onto your arm slid over to your clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to give him a hard time for not looking his way—with the way his fingers squeezed deep into your skin and tilted your head towards him, you knew you did. It almost repulsed you with how obedient your body was to his touch, glancing at him with no shame other than the dried tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna tell you the one time and I’ll never repeat myself,” he threatened, voice treading amongst angry waters as his blue eyes bored into yours, “I’m serious.”

You stood your ground, eyes taking away from your scowling expression as they swirled in curiosity. It didn’t take much to make you lower your frame onto the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the t-shirt past your exposed panties.

“I don’t say much when it comes to you, or even to when it’s about you—but you’re all I am.” Your eyebrows furrowed, clear confusion written in your face.

“What does tha—” “I’m talking.” Dabi’s aggravated expression never left, not even with the joint hoisted between his lips in nothing but frustration.

“I got nothing to give you, nothing but collected calls from jail and maybe some jewelry I stole cause I got bored. I don’t have any money, anything to my name, and nothing but a spot on the police and hero department’s most wanted list.” His words made you frown, the clear self-depreciation outweighing the cocky and arrogant attitude you once knew to belong to the man infront of you.

“I can’t look you in the eye, show you my face when you milk my cock clean— can’t do shit like that,” Dabi’s smirk was quick to appear, your eyes rolling as you met his serious gaze yet again, “probably won’t be able to take you out the country either unless we run far, far away from here.”

“But nothing I say or do will ever express the way I feel about you.” And now it’s Dabi’s turn for the 1-2-3 process, because that statement in itself made your brain stop working.

Your brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that Dabi’s free hand was circling your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to where he most felt at home. His words never faltered though, only slightly pausing to smoothly slip his hands onto the soaked folds of pink lace.

His words were thrown against empty ears. You couldn’t focus on the words flowing within the room due to the ever-growing heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. Dabi’s hand sank into your leg, heat splitting between your skin enough to hiss and throw your head back.

“From this perfect pussy,” he applied pressure to the space between your legs, the wet patch inducing a smile from his once blank expesssion. The sudden contact caused a gasp to slip from your panting lips. Almost instinctively, Dabi pressed his thumb against your tongue, “to this smart ass mouth, it’s all I need to wake up in the morning.”

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi's heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he's ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who's life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen burn bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.

And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi's harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.

Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.

"You're gonna get tired of me one day," he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, "you're gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own."

He wanted to think he wouldn't care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn't do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he's ever known in his life for as long as he'd live.

With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.

"Hey," you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

"You crash, I crash. Always."

Your words hit him, and boy did they hit Dabi hard. The time it took for the word always to softly slip off your tongue was just enough time for Dabi to realize the depth of your words.

They were the same ones that fell between your lips when he thought he was dying, when you thought you were dying, and now. Dabi was complex - that was evident - but he was also the simplest man you knew. All he ever really needed was some reassurance.

It was long before his fingers found their way into your scalp, slipping over the crevices of your neck and gripping onto the back of your head as if his life depended on it. All you could do was gasp.

"Can I touch you?" The words were like a record scratch, repeating through the scarred man's brain all too much to keep anyone sane.

He couldn't tell if it was the slur of your words, or if it was your soft hands running across his thick shoulders as the words whispered into his ears— whatever it was made him take up the obligation of doing anything and everything you said.

It wasn't soon before you found yourself slamming your lips against his, the sensation causing you both to moan. You couldn't tell the difference between his hands and yours, tangled limbs falling deep into the plush comforter covering your shared bed. His weight above you did nothing but encourage you to wrap your bare limbs against his now shirtless one on, hands running through the raven locks above your head.

The minute you felt the heated pads of his fingertips lower themselves down your abdomen, your head shook underneath his and caused him to part his lips from its home on yours.

"Hmph," you groaned, pouting as your hands traveled down to his jeans and began to fiddle with the zipper, "I want to feel you in me now."

Dabi was used to being in control. He was used to ordering your body around, telling you what to do and how to do it. In the bedroom, Dabi made the orders. So when he parted his lips from yours and stood over your body with his scarred hands shoving his pants down his thighs, you couldn't do anything less than moan. Knowing he was taking what you said into consideration brought chills to your skin.

"You sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" He smirked, legs coming out of the restricting jeans he wore and leaving his tall and lean frame in nothing but gray briefs.

Dabi had a lot to brag about, in the most respectful way possible.

Your hands clawed at his waistband, giggling as you pulled his body all the way back to its original position of resting above you and let the underwear go with a loud smack. Being eye to eye with someone like Dabi was scary, no point in denying that. Her there was something about it that just drove the two of you insane— and he couldn't tell if I was anything short of love.

He silenced himself, attaching his lips to yours and preoccupying a hand into pulling his briefs down just enough. And by just enough, it meant just enough to brush your clothed clit as his painfully hard cock stretched up to his stomach. You couldn’t do anything but flinch, hands reaching out to grip his thick girth and slap it across your clothed pussy.

“Let me do it.” You smiled, eyes boring into Dabi’s own blue ones. Your free hand slipped your panties to the side, his mushroom tip dancing against the rim of your wet hole and causing the two of you to release a soft groan into one another’s face.

If there was one thing Dabi would never get tired of, it would be the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his dick closer into you. Nothing short of sensation hit him the minute your hands shoved the head in, and his almost fell inlove with the view of you watching his large length disappear into your own heaven.

It was hard for you to not cum from his entrance. Even as he bottomed out, your teeth sealing a scream from leaving your throat by pressing into his shoulder, did you realize just how big Dabi was. No matter how skinny, lean, and weightless he seemed, the girth and length on Dabi’s third leg when he was stuffing himself into you never failed to surprise you. Even through the self-inflicted pain of going into this without foreplay, you knew there was nothing that would ever fill you up as amazing as Dabi does.

“Fuuuck,” you dragged out into his earlobe, tongue licking a strip of his patched skin from your bite-mark to the lobe of his pierced ears, “you’re so big.”

He couldn’t help but whimper (another thing on Dabi’s list or shit he doesn’t do but now does because of you), the feeling of your tongue circling his ear as your pussy gripped onto his fleeting cock nearly felt like too much. It didn’t help that you were moaning and whispering in his ear with nothing but pure sex laced in your words.

“You know,” he breathed out, beginning to create a routine with his hips bottoming harshly into your cervix and slowly dragging out in a timely fashion, “this is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

He thinks it’s a compliment, but really it stirs awake the competitive bone in your body. You ignore it though like you always do, choosing to appreciate the fact that he considers you the best at atleast something.

His hand gripped onto your neck, bringing neon stars and dots of blackness to conceal your view of cerulean eyes. Nothing but the lewd sounds of Dabi pushing his dick into your wet hole filled the room, sprinkles of your whimpers and his groans mixing amongst the darkness of the apartment.

Dabi was trouble. He never felt in control of his feelings, never knew what he would want in life, and never bothered to consider living for someone other than himself. It’s moments like these with you though, that makes him realize the God he wakes up thinking about rests between the gap in the middle of your heavenly thighs. He’d killed people before, but the power you held over him was enough to make him consider killing everyone on earth if you’d ask.

You felt him begin to grow impatient, hips pounding into your frame and causing your body to jolt up and down harshly. Words couldn’t describe how amazing Dabi felt inside of you right now. His tip crushed your cervix within every thrust, and it was Dabi’s fingers that lifted your gaping face from the trance of watching him fuck into you to his own face.

“I-I cant.” You began to slip out, tears growing against your eyes as Dabi’s hot fingers began to flick your swollen clit. You swear it’s only been like ten minutes, or maybe Dabi’s huge dick pushing against your cervix was beginning to fuck you stupid. “You’re gonna’ make me cum— make me cum too fast daddy.” You cried out, fingers dragging against the stapled back as you felt Dabi purposely drag one of the piercings located on his tip across your pulsating velvet walls. It was almost too good to be true, and you couldn’t help yourself from kicking his waist over you and forcing his body underneath you. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wipe the smirk off his sweating face.

“Get to work, doll.”

You knew why he spoke to you with such condensation. You also knew exactly why his hands pressed into your ass cheeks as you found your home on top of his bare lap. His scarred torso leaned against the black bed frame, and you decided right then and there that Dabi deserved to get his brains fucked out. So you did exactly what he told you to do— you got to work.

You were wet enough to take him some more, knees straining as you finally pushed his length deep into your stomach. The silent scream that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed though, your fingers that now gripped his cheeks pressing between his lips to keep his teasing menstruations to himself. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t come off your body, and honestly he wished they never had to.

Keeping a grip on your stomach and your ass cheek, an enflamed slap brought a powerful burn across your ass cheek and caused you to jolt against his penis.

“Jesus Dabi, a-are you trying to kill me?” You weakly pleaded, and it didn’t take long for your fucked our expression to start slurring your words.

The sound of you dropping your frame onto his body filled the room, your hips rolling against your clothed clit and bringing sensation you weren’t sure if you could handle. You were trying to focus, but the feeling of Dabi heating a hand up across your ass and slowly beginning to meet your thrusts caused your brain to jumble into a mess of nothing but him.

“Fuck, baby you look so good when you start to get stupid.” He smirked, lips running against the cleavage of your bouncing breasts and lazily sucking on the moving nipple in front of him.

You wanted to fight back, and you wanted to defend yourself against him thinking you we’re starting to get stupid. You really wanted to— the only issue being that you couldn’t. You couldn’t the minute Dabi found a way to meet your thrusts and roughly tilt your neck back up towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was all you could cry out as you began to grow impatient in your lower abdomen. It just felt too good. And as if to add injury to insult, your walls began to clamp up from the feeling you knew was coming soon. Dabi paid the price.

You’d never seen his eyes get this wide, eyebrows furrowed as his mouth gaped open in shock. His eyes found its way down, the sight of your pussy gripping and swallowing his dick back in and out being something he wishes he could see all day and that’s when Dabi realizes that he is inlove with everything about you.

“It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me, baby.” He whimpered out, smirking between hooded eyes as he struggled to regain some of his consciousness. You were way too good at bouncing on his dick, and he couldn’t help but begin to meet your thrusts with more precision as he felt himself near orgasm.

“A-all for you! Always all- always all for you daddy!” You cried out, voice struggling to come out as you threw your hands against Dabi’s chest and began to bounce as if your life depends on it.

You hate doing all the work, honestly you really do dislike it. But this has been the longest Dabi has allowed you to ride him and the feeling of you literally milking his cock at your own disposal was an offer too good to ruin.

“I know it’s all for me, princess.” He whimpered out, a hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling it low enough to slam your chapped lips against his own. “Wanna know something, baby?”

The words vibrating against your own moans got lost in the sound, your headboard forcibly slamming against the wall only louder as every other thrust from you gradually grew rougher with your urge to cum. Your brain couldn’t do anything less than feverishly nod, hands slipping back onto your body and allowing Dabi to drill into you from underneath. Gasps slipped out of your parted lips with a hand gripping his black hair and the other begging to rub your own clit.

“You crash, I crash forever, right baby?” He moaned out, the words entering your ears and making you cry out with tears finally spilling down your eyes from nothing but intense pleasure.

“Fuck yes daddy, forever!” You cried out, body beginning to hunch over as you felt the pressure in your stomach compared to the way Dabi slammed into you become too much.

“Good, doll,” he moaned, pushing you so far into him, the heartbeat in your pussy was sure to be vibrating onto the veins of his dick, “so do me a favor.”

Everything happened much too fast, your dizzy state only increasing as Dabi grabbed your body harshly and tossed you back underneath him. There you were again, tossed carelessly under him with your legs trembling and pussy stuffed with all of Dabi in his glory. His lips found our ear again, licking your lobe and sucking on it right after.

“Cream all over my cock so I can stuff you up with my kids, deal?” He smirked into you, jolting into you as soon as the last word resonated on all ears.

Soon enough, he found it in himself to thrust into you like never before. You could barely breath, gasping for air as you felt your vagina began to vibrate due to stage of pleasure you were in. And just like that, your body began to run from the overstimulation of Dabi’s hot finger rubbing roughly against your clit as he drills your frame into the crevices of your mattress.

“Da-daddy I’m gonna’....” The words just couldn’t come out— he was begging to fuck you dumb.

You couldn’t feel nothing but Dabi’s dick pound into you, and if this was all you felt before you fell into a sex-coma than fuck it. It will forever and always be worth it.

It was like you were starting to see white. The feeling of one of his hands now roughly gripping your drooling expression closer to his face made you scream in pleasure, Dabi’s smirk leaving only to release a trail of saliva from his throat into the back of yours. You swallowed it with no hesitation, some of the residue slipping through your lips in a mix with your own spit as you began to drool at the feeling of his tip hitting that one spot over and over again.

And that’s when you felt it. You felt the build up, the pressure of holding back becoming too much as you belted into a mess of tears and tried to push his body off your own.

“No baby,” he roughly said, milking his cock into you even harder and rubbing pressured circles into your clit until a strong snapped within you and you saw nothing but white.

You weren’t sure if it was a sub-space you had entered, or some fucked up version of heaven people who just for their brains fucked out go, but either option felt like fair-game the minute your pussy began to squirt a mess of cum and other liquids from the space Dabi still found himself intruding. If anything boosted his confidence, it was this right here.

“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy,” he smirked, rubbing you harder and harder as your felt your body stiffen at the overstimulation, “fuck, you’re so hot.”

As soon as you, Dabi found himself cumming harder than he ever had, lips only being able to cry out a mantra of your name. He knew sex with you was amazing— but this was a new high he doesn’t think he’d ever went to let go of. He didn’t even have the energy to lift himself out of you, small drips of cum able to slip out of your swollen pussy making you flinch in both overstimulation and pain. The cockwarming brought chills to your arm, body sprawled underneath Dabi’s panting frame in nothing but a fucked our expression.

You felt him lift his head up, eyes glancing over your puffy closed ones and being able to do nothing more than steal a kiss from your tongue-licked lips. He knows the difference between “fucked-out” you and “genuinely-knocked-out” you, and you knew he knew the difference too. But he acted as if he didn’t.

And before Dabi could pass out on top of your sweaty and sticky frame, words he mumbled into your shoulder nearly burned into your skin. At least, just enough to make your pussy and lips twitch in nothing but contentness.

I crash, you crash. Forever and always.

Sex with Dabi was always the same— sure. It was rough, messy, and painfully over-stimulating, but it was Dabi, and it was more than enough for you.

Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi’s heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.

Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he’s ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.

He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who’s life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.

You felt him begin to leave swollen bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.

Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi’s harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.

“You’re gonna get tired of me one day,” he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, ��you’re gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own.”

He wanted to think he wouldn’t care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn’t do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he’s ever known in his life for as long as he’d live.

“Hey,” you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.

“You crash, I crash. Always.”

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alltooreid · 4 years

Text

Invisible String

Although Spencer Reid and the Reader don’t find themselves in a romance with each other until well into their adulthood, their relationship has been decades in the making. Almost as if something as been pulling them together all these years.

A/N: sorry for such a long wait but i’ve been struggling a lot mentally as of late. i hope you guys enjoy this one shot!! As always requests are open and heavily encouraged!! And of course this is inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name :)) Also keep in mind although the following scenes are heavily inspired by some scenes in Criminal Minds, elements of them have been slightly altered to fit in Y/N as a character.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute strangers to lovers fluff fic!

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: typical criminal minds case discussion, mentions of child trafficking when discussing this case, but no real detail. slight spoilers for season eight (beginning maeve stuff) and tiny spoilers for season fifteen (briefly mentions max but nothing really important to the plot at all)

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?”

You had met Spencer Reid 3 times before you had really met him.

It was almost silly to think about it now. Now that you and Spencer have been dating for 3 years, it was strange to believe there were so many chances for you two to meet years earlier.

When you were sixteen years old, you got your first part time job. You worked at a self-serve frozen yogurt shop called Iced Dreams. You hated it so much. Your manager was a total creep, your older coworkers were rude and condescending to you, since you were one of the youngest people working there, but most of all you hated the uniforms.

Consisting of a very stupid looking hat, bright pink with randomly embrodiered teal patterns, an outdated bright teal shirt, it had been given to you from a dirty bin in the back, and judging by the sewn in shoulder pads, it had to be at least a couple decades old.

So one day, you didn’t wear the hat.

It wasn’t entirely purposeful. You couldn’t find it, you searched your room, you searched your car, so eventually you had to leave without it to prevent being late. Still, as you clocked it and passed the box of extras in the office something made you decide to leave it alone.

You were about 8 minutes into your shift when your manager approached you. “Y/N? Where’s your hat sweetheart?” You hated this man so much. You had gone to your parents time and time again, recounting his creepy behavior towards you and the other teenage girls who you worked with, but they refused to let you quit.

When you had started working there, he used to enforce this ridiculous rule that all the female workers had to wear skirts as part of their uniform, but you had gathered all the sixteen and seventeen year olds who worked there and all threatened to quit if he didn’t change the policy. So you were no stranger to breaking and defying the rules.

“Yeah I couldn’t find it, sorry.” you shrugged.

He chuckled and reached his hat out to touch your face. You jerked back, you almost wanted to refuse to wear one of the stupid extra hats just so that you could get fired.

“Well, Y/N its policy sweetie. No matter how special you are to me you still need to wear the hat. There’s extras in the office.”

“No way I’m wearing one of those. I bet they have like lice or something.”

He pursed his lips and sighed “Well I suppose that beautiful hair is just too pretty to wear a used hat huh. . . What do you suggest? If you’re working you have to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well you could let me go home.”

He paused, “Why don’t you go sit in the office, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

So you did, for about 10 minutes you sat in the office, surrounded by frozen yogurt flavor marking posters and boxes of old uniforms, and each passing minute you feared for the worst. Maybe you were actually getting fired? You really didn’t want to go that far, because, as much as you hated it, you really needed this job.

When your manager finally came to talk to you he held a small salted caramel frozen yogurt, your personal favorite flavor, and a twenty dollar bill. He handed them both to you.

“You seem so stressed Y/N, why don’t you take the day and go get lunch. My treat,” he said, smiling that weird twisted smile that always made your full body shiver.

However you were broke as hell, and no teenager in their right mind would ever pass up free food, so you took it, grabbed your keys and started to leave

Yet as soon as you walked out the back door you dropped your frozen yogurt, cup fully upside down, onto the pavement. You cursed, you hadn’t even taken a bite of it yet, and it looked like he had put coconut flakes on it, and you loved coconut. Still, you had your twenty bucks, and that was a pretty sweet pay out considering you were only clocked in for about 20 minutes.

So you got Chinese food, and spent what was supposed to be your shift in the shopping mall across town, completely and blissfully unaware of the fact the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was dragging your manager away in handcuffs.

➽───────────────❥

Young Spencer Reid had only joined the FBI about a month ago. Despite being a genius, and providing crucial information to the solving of cases, he was aware of the most obvious. He was only twenty two years old, and he was scrawny as hell.

He felt this intense need to prove himself, especially to make Gideon proud.

So when they got a case about a the kidnapping and sex trafficking of teenage girls, he saw it as something he could really involve himself in. Based on the profile, it wasn’t going to be a large, strong, confident unsub who Morgan needed to tackle. This man would be ugly sure, but he would be a manipulative mastermind. Reid could work with that, he could prove himself.

He surprised everyone with his sheer work ethic and determination to find this man, and through consistently revising and delivering the profile soon enough they got a hit. A young woman in her early twenties called the tipline and reported her own manager. Insisting he fit the profile perfectly, and described how strangely he treated the minors who worked there, and how he almost exclusively hired young girls, treated them great and then switched as soon as they became legal.

So Garcia did her magically digging, and soon enough the FBI was tearing up a frozen yogurt shop, looking for any evidence of pedophilia. Garcia was even brought along, as she was pivotal to discovering any secret files in his computer.

At first, all they could find were strange compilation videos and under employees skirts. Spencer, and the rest of the team, were struggling to connect how he could get so many videos from an angle like this without anyone noticing or reporting him, until Gideon uncovered an old dusty pair of shoes, in which the right one held a small camera at the toe.

Although this was absolutely disgusting, it wasn’t enough to prove he was running the ring or kidnapping the girls, so Garcia kept digging. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to make himself useful by checking out the back of the store.

That’s where he found your clock-out receipt.

“Hey guys, we might want to take a look at this,” he shouted out.

Morgan grabbed the paper from his hand, “Ok, I don’t get it kid, it’s trash.”

Spencer pointed to the details on the slip, “Yeah but it says here she clocked out 18 minutes ago after only working for 23 minutes and 46 seconds. If this guy is our unsub, this girl could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe she’s still here, has anyone checked out the parking lot yet?”

Spencer shook his head, and followed Morgan out the back door. There they discovered some almost completely melted salted caramel frozen yogurt.

Morgan bent down to investigate, “Yeah, we gotta get this to the lab, but I can tell you right now that there’s clearly more than just coconut topping this yogurt. It also means we have another victim.”

Spencer crouched down as well, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean kid? We’re missing a teenage girl and we’ve already found illegal evidence on this guy's computer. She’s in trouble.”

“Well judging the shape and inscription of these pills it appears to be some pretty strong rohypnol, almost certainly prescription grade. And ingesting it like this means she probably would have begun to feel its effects fairly early, I would predict 15 minutes. She clocked out 18 minutes ago, so even if she left exactly at that time she would have certainly crashed her car on the way home. The nearest residence is 8 minutes away from here, we’re in a complete shopping district. There’s only two cars out here and neither have a passed out driver, so I would bet she didn’t eat any of it. Also, the only spoon out here is still wrapped in plastic, “ Spencer analyzed.

Morgan sighed, “Well what do we even do then?”

Before Spencer could answer Hotch opened the back door. “We got him.”

Spencer turned to Morgan, “I’m sure her phone number is somewhere inside, I say we call her and make sure she’s ok. She probably doesn’t even know this is happening right now.”

So he did find your phone number, and although he initially pushed the phone to Morgan, he just chuckled and pushed it back.

“No way pretty boy. You’re the know-it-all with all that profiling out there, you can call her,” and before he could protest Morgan left, so Spencer was left to call you.

And strangely, for it being the first time he would ever interact with the love of his life, he thought nothing of it.

And that was the first time you had met Spencer Reid.

➽───────────────❥

The second time was years and years later, when you were waitressing night shifts to make extra money. You had never forgotten meeting Spencer Reid the first time, but this was the first time you would ever see his face.

You were slightly concerned when you got a call from a man, whose name you had now long forgotten, claiming he worked for the FBI. Although you weren’t incredibly surprised to hear your manager committed such heinous crimes against children, you were taken aback by how close you had come to becoming one of his victims.

But that was 9 years ago. In your college days it became a fun story you told at frat parties, but you were 25 now. Sometimes you would think about the incident when you couldn’t sleep, and if you were feeling feisty you would use it as an icebreaker or a “two truths, one lie” statement, but otherwise you didn’t really think about it.

You had plenty of other things to worry about, in fact, that’s exactly why you worked so much. It was so much easier to forget when you were constantly preoccupied with complaining customers and terribly awkward blind dates.

You had just sat this man, incredibly handsome, however it was clear he was on some kind of date. His reservation was for two, and he spent way too much time adjusting his clothes and table setting for him to not be trying to impress someone special. He also brought a gift, which judging by the packaging and shape, seemed to be some kind of wrapped book.

Even though he was 15 minutes early for his own reservation, he still looked really nervous, almost like he already believed she might not show up. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to go talk to him.

“Anyone ever tell you you should model?” you started with.

He looked up “Excuse me?”

“Sorry for being so bold, you just look so familiar,” he weirdly sounded very familiar as well, but you didn’t tell him that. “Are you sure you haven’t modeled? You have excellent bone structure. I bet you could.”

He laughed to himself, “yeah I’m sure.”

“Well your date is very lucky either way. I wish I had a boyfriend as handsome as you. Actually I wish I had a boyfriend period, but that’s a whole other story.”

He chuckled, and although you knew in your heart that you shouldn’t be flirting with him considering he was 15 minutes away from being actively on a date talking to him made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “What happened with your boyfriend? Do I even dare ask?”

“Well I kind of always knew he wasn’t super interested in me, but I really liked him, so I did my best to ignore his wandering eyes,” you sighed. “That didn’t stop him from leaving me for his coworker though.”

“That’s terrible.”

You smirked, “That’s not even the worst part, he broke up with me over a 27 second phone call. He didn’t even let me respond, he just kind of hung up.”

“I’m sorry, no one deserves that. Especially not you. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple minutes and I can tell that.”

“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.”

You smiled, “Well I should probably stop flirting with you now, considering your date hasn’t even started yet. And don’t worry, she’ll show, you’re so handsome she’d be stupid not to.”

He looked confused. “You were flirting with me?”

You laughed, “I thought you were good at reading people?”

He smiled back at you, and it made your heart soar, this silly, pure goofy smile that made you want to replace his date and have dinner with him right then and there.

You walked back to your hostess stand. A couple minutes later you noticed the handsome stranger on the phone. You thought nothing of it until later when a woman came in, clearly nervous, holding a gift bag.

“Can you give this to Spencer Reid for me please?” You recognized the name, the man you were just speaking with had filed his reservation under it.

“Um, yeah sure, aren’t you going to go in? He’s at that table over the-” but before you could finish your sentence the woman was gone. Your heart sank, poor Spencer, how could someone drop their date off a gift but stand them up anyway? That’s just cold.

When you get up to bring the gift to him, he’s already heading out of the restaurant himself.

“Sir? Spencer? Dr. Reid?” he turned his head. “A lady came in and dropped this off for you.”

His face dropped, it almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank you,” he said as he looked up at you before leaving.

He ran out the door, both gifts in hand and whipped his head around a few times before sighing and speeding off in one direction. Even before you learned what happened after that and leading up to it, you felt terrible for the handsome stranger.

How could you not for someone so clearly distressed? Someone so clearly in love?

➽───────────────❥

7 years and a divorce later you were spending your Saturday in a park, strangely contemplating love itself. Although you barely remember that night all those years ago when you spoke to Spencer, he did. Vividly. In fact, on this Saturday you both were in a public park, contemplating your many failed attempts at true love.

It was your first wedding anniversary without your husband. Although you had only been married for two years, you still were having a hard time navigating life without him.

You started to wonder if you would ever find the true love you had been wishing for since your youth. Was 32 too late? Had you lived out all of your opportunities?

When you were little your mother had told you that all soulmates were attached at the left ring fingers, by small, incredibly thin strands of gold string, invisible to the naked eye. She insisted that these strings were constantly trying to pull you and your soulmate together, and that when life was ready for you two to meet, you would.

Until then, you would have small, mindless interactions. Things you wouldn’t think about, maybe even things that weren’t interactions at all. You would get the same commercial jingle stuck in your head. You would both get an intense craving for the same food. You’d have the same dream.

As a kid you were obsessed with this idea, you thought it was so romantic, and you fully believed everything your mom told you about it. You always asked her for more stories, and at bedtime you refused to sleep unless she would tell you more.

But now you were sure soulmates, true love even, didn’t exist. The invisible pretty gold strings your mother weaved fantastic stories with were completely fabricated. If they weren’t, you would have seen the clues by now.

Right?

➽───────────────❥

Spencer Reid was given an assignment from his therapist. He had to spend his Saturday off trying to interact with a stranger. Making friends with someone other than his colleagues may seem like a simple task for some, but it was something the young genius had almost no experience with.

He understood that it was probably for the best. He wasn’t exactly great with relationships of any kind, but especially not romantic ones. It didn’t take a genius to know that a couple of flirtations, a dead girlfriend he had only seen once, and a long time unrequited (or at least he thought unrequited) infatuation with his best friend and godsons’ mother was not a very great track record.

He, just like you, was also beginning to believe that he was hopeless when it came to love. That 38 was too old, that his time to meet someone and have the children he dreamed of had long passed.

But right as he was about to call JJ, to see if she would invite him in on the case Garcia had started to work on, he saw you.

Unlike you, he remembered your face and your interaction vividly. That almost date with Maeve was one of the biggest defining moments of his life, and what are the chances that the waitress from that very night was now less than 30 feet away from him, reading under the green leaves of a tree.

He wasn’t going to say anything, until he saw the book you were reading.

The Narrative of John Smith.

It must have been a sign, for what he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it just had to mean something. The universe had to be reaching out to him, he had experienced crazier things.

And just as he was about to walk over to you, to close the gap between the gold strings tied around your ring fingers, a child interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s a strange haircut.”

➽───────────────❥

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were finally reuniting after many years. They barely got to see each other these days, but even though he was teaching and working at the BAU, Spencer still was willing to clear his schedule to second Derek suggested they meet up.

Morgan was excited as well, both to see his friend and to hopefully help him get a date. Sure, he had liked what he had heard about Max, but he wasn’t exactly surprised it had only lasted a couple months between her and Spencer. They just seemed too different.

Plus, now he got the chance to play wingman again, and he was ecstatic about that. Spencer not so much.

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s only been a couple months since we broke up. Wouldn’t it be too early to start talking to other people?”

“Pretty boy, you and I both know that the rate in which you’ve had relationships is not even close to the average. You need to balance that out somehow.”

Spencer sighed, he knew Derek was right, but he still felt strange.

“Morgan, have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”

“No, but I’m sure I’m about to hear all about it.”

“It’s an East Asian philosophy, based on the discovery that the ulnar artery connects the heart with the pinky finger, actually that’s where the belief in pinky promises come from. The reason it’s integrated in so many different cultures is that-”

“Kid, you’re losing me here,” Morgan interrupted. “Finish your thing about the string.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s the idea that human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break. Essentially, the idea is that although we might not realize it, our lives move in a pre-ordained direction, guided by invisible strings that are woven into the fabric of the Universe itself. And all the while, the red thread connecting us to our distant soulmates is getting shorter.”

“Well it’s an interesting theory kid, but it’s a lot to think about. I mean, we’re in a bar, let loose a little bit. Not every interaction has to be about getting closer to your soulmate. And sure, maybe you’ll meet them one day, maybe even soon. But you’re here now, and just because your one true love may not be, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to be here.”

Spencer sighed, “You’re right. I don’t even know if I believe in that anyway, maybe I’m just looking for something to explain this all.

Derek patted his friend on the shoulder, “okay pretty ricky, this is how it’s about to go down. I’m going to buy you two drinks. You’re going to take both of them, and go find someone, anyone here to go talk to.”

“Ok, I think I can do that. Who?”

Derek looked around, trying to find who he believed would be the best match for his friend. “How about her?” he asked, pointing at you.

Spencer couldn’t believe it when he looked. There you were, the girl, the one he had met three times before, even if he could only remember two. The woman he knew was some sort of universe sent sign that Saturday he saw you underneath the greenery. The girl he was so close to talking to before he was interrupted by Max’s nephew. The woman who (and he obviously did not know this at the time) he would marry 3 years later. The one who would carefully knit the baby blankets for all of their friends and exes. The one who he would adopt 3 children with. The woman who, he was now sure, was at the other end of his invisible string. The girl he needed to talk to right now.

“Is it just me,” Morgan said, “Or does she look kind of familiar?”

“Yes,” Spencer responded, “yes she does.” He got up quickly and started making strides towards you.

“Wait!” Morgan called, “You forgot your drinks!”

“I don’t need them!” he shouted back. When he sat down next to you, you smiled. It made his heart soar, you had this silly, pure goofy smile that made him want to ask you out right then and there.

Instead he settled on the only conversation starter he could think of.

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string story?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #reid #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #reid fanfic #reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #reid x reader #spencerreidxreader #spencer reid taylor swift

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

Hi, I just happened to stumble across you and now I’m addicted!😅❤️ anyway, I was hoping you could write some headcanons for a crack head rakuzan manager.

A/N: Hi there you two! Since your requests were for the same trope and the more or less same scenario, I decided to mash these two together, hope that’s ok with you guys! ( ´ ▽ ` )

Luckily, I grew up around some people that fit in that description, nevertheless this was a pretty new experience for me, so I hope I managed to deal with this successfully (I’m sorry in case that I didn’t ;-;)! Anyways, please enjoy and heed the warnings! ヽ(´ー｀)❤️

Tags/Warnings: Rakuzan x reader ✅ tw.drug mention/use ✅ tw.mention of bullying ✅ fluff ✅ friendship ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Rakuzan is known as an elite school, harboring only the crème-de-la-crème of students and yet you still couldn’t comprehend why you were a part of it

everyone was driven by either perfectionism or greed, the teachers only cared for themselves and their salary, and the expectations society put on every student that wore this school’s logo were downright inhuman

so could someone really blame or shun you for being into drugs? —No, they couldn’t...and yet some still tried

every time you skipped a class to go on either the rooftop or that one dark alley in the very back of the luxurious building to roll a joint, someone random would always come looking for you

they’d try to push their ideals onto you and pretend that they are some kind of Samaritan who only wants the best for you and your future

Yeah sure...you don’t even know my name, do you?

the first few times really annoyed the hell out of you and their hypocrisy almost made you lose yourself once, but as these scenarios started repeating themselves you grew used to it and learned how to completely ignore them

depending on your mood and the amount of dopamine you’re releasing there were even times when you’d get sassy with them or downright challenge them to a fight, knowing fully well that as the goody-two-shoes they were they’d never accept it

the teachers were also aware of your addiction, but were too scared for their own reputation and decided that it’d be easier if they just left you to your own devices and wait until you either failed their classes or graduated

and just like that, you lead a rather peaceful school life, until a certain someone decided to disturb it...

when you skipped classes for the umpteeth time you waited patiently for today’s candidate who’d drag you over the coals for your ‘unsightly behavior’

after you’d taken the third pull on your joint you finally heard light steps which were just around the corner

without moving your head too much, you simply glanced towards the figure that had appeared and chuckled to yourself

“Woow, the teachers must be quite desperate to send their star pupil in order to get me” you sneered after blowing some of the smoke right into his direction

the red-haired young man who’d arrived was none other than Akashi Seijirou, a student whose school record was full of nothing but perfect grades and perfect remarks from everyone who had entered this school

you didn’t know much about him except the typical gossips and the fact that he was the complete opposite of yourself

for a while none of you said anything so you continued to smoke shamelessly in front of him, hoping that you could provoke some kind of reaction from him...though in vain

if words weren’t provocative enough you decided to see how far he’d allow you to go until he had to open his mouth

“You want a pull?”

much to your surprise he actually extended his hand towards you, so with wide eyes you carefully handed him your joint

So even flawless students like him need to let go sometimes, huh?

he eyed it for a while and the next thing you saw was how he let it drop and stomped on it

“Was that really necessary? You could’ve just refused it, you know?”

“I want you to join the basketball team as a manager” he then said in a calm and pretty serious tone

....

...What?

you began laughing as if he had said some kind of hilarious joke, but much to your disappointment he simply raised his eyebrow

“W-Wait...are you being serious right now? You want me to take care of the basketball team?”

seeing him simply nod with the same stoic expression he’d arrived with made you realize that he wasn’t one to joke around

Akashi took out a handkerchief and wiped his hand, without bothering to hide his disgust and then simply turned his back to you

“I’ll be waiting for you at the gym after school and I hope you’ll be there...for your sake.”

and with that threat, he left you by yourself, confused and utterly speechless

you soon began giggling to yourself and you wanted to blame it on the drugs but deep down you knew the truth ...

as the school bell rang for the last time today you lazily packed your stuff and without paying any attention to neither your teacher nor your classmates you trotted out of the classroom

you hated admitting it but the red-haired young man’s words had haunted you for the entire day, but you weren’t one to simply obey whatever others told you

just as you were about to walk down the stairs someone muscular bumped into you, almost knocking you off your feet

as you looked up to see who it was you saw a dark-skinned and bulky man towering above you with a grim look on his face

“(Y/N)?”

you hesitated to answer for a moment, but his challenging expression downright forced you to respond, though it was merely with a small nod

“Excellent, follow me” he ordered after turning around and you did

while he was walking in front, you noticed that most of the students were intimidated or scared by his towering frame and now that you were behind him you realized how truly lonely he must be

“We’re here,” he began, “Akashi! I brought her!”

at the mention of that name you immediately wanted to just turn around and leave, but with that broad man next to you any type of escape was shut down

a pair of heterochromatic eyes looked in your direction and a proud smile adorned the rather emotionless expression of the red-haired young man who signalized the other club’s members to take a short break while he strolled towards the two of you

“(Y/N), I’m glad to see that you picked the right choice to come here. Now...follow me.”

you simply glanced up at the broader man next to you with a pleading expression, but he simply grinned and gave you a thumbs up

Akashi led you to a bench where an older man had already taken a seat, reading through some papers

he was so into it that he didn’t even bother to look up at you two

“Alright your task is simple, I want you to learn the basic rules of basketball and everything else that surrounds it. You have a week and then I’d like to test your knowledge during a practice match. There are also several other things I want you to fulfill, but this will be enough for now” he took a short breath and looked at his team players with a slightly annoyed gaze before he continued “I also provided you with one of those ‘how to’ books so I hope you won’t need long. Any further questions?”

Where do I even start?

“Listen up, I never said that I was going to be your team’s manager or anything like that, you literally forced me to come here by sending that giant after me! And you can’t be serious with all of this right? You guys are a pro team and you want me - a mere amateur - to manage you? Starting next week? I don’t even th-“

“I don’t remember giving you a choice in this matter and yes, you’ll learn it all until next week. You being a student at this elite school speaks for itself, so learning the basic rules of a mere sports game isn’t going to cost you much. Now sit down and start reading.”

his condescending and overall rude tone made you more than just mad, but before you could utter any kind of comment, he had already turned his back to you and was heading for the court

“If I were you, I’d just agree with whatever he says” commented the older man whose gaze was still on the papers before him

you clicked your tongue and put both of your hands on your hips as you stared at him and asked whether that was how he usually dealt with him

“That’s how I learned to deal with him. A genius like him is only getting held back by simple-minded people...or those,” he paused and finally looked up, eyeing you judgingly before he finished his sentence, “that can’t read the mood.”

you were absolutely speechless and enraged, so before you completely lost your wits you grabbed that stupid book Akashi had gotten for you and purposely stomped towards the gym’s entrance doors to roll yourself another joint

you spent the entire duration of their training outside and even though you didn’t intend to really read the booklet, you eventually started and got into it, until you heard a loud whistle and Akashi’s voice announcing the end of today’s practice

“I’m expecting you at tomorrow’s practice as well, (Y/N)” said the red-haired captain as soon as you re-entered the gym to take your bag and go home

you answered with a simple nod and left, figuring that you’d just go along with him for a while but secretly do whatever you wanted

or at least that was supposed to be your plan, but something quite unexpected happened

while you had set your mind to obey whatever the captain wanted from you, you caught yourself actually having fun during the guys’ practice

you did know a little about basketball even without the book’s help, but as you gradually read chapter after chapter and actually witnessed the real thing before you every single day, you came to truly enjoy it

there were always some rumors that Rakuzan’s basketball team was on an entirely different level and you finally saw why

the four players that always accompanied Akashi on the court were some kind of prodigies the others referred to as the “Uncrowned Kings” or the new and improved version of “The phantom sixth man”

during your first days of hearing those rather over the top nicknames, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud

These four having such titles? Don’t mess with me, that’s just hilarious!

and even if you were the only one laughing at it while the others simply looked away, your laughs were shut down pretty quickly as soon as you saw how they played

seeing just how powerful and overall perfect they seemed to be made you even more pissed off than you already were

luckily you were standing right next to the gym’s door so you cracked it open, leaned yourself on its frame, and began smoking one of your self-rolled joints

“Wow (Y/N), I didn’t know you smoked! You look really cool!”

the sudden compliment from the cheerful blond with the sharp canine caught you off guard, not to mention that he was the first one besides Akashi to even attempt some sort of conversation...and it made you unexpectedly happy

“Thanks, I guess?...would you like to have a pull?”

you couldn’t help but smirk at how his eyes lit up after nodding multiple times and just as he was about to take the softly smoking joint from your hand, someone snatched it and threw it out, closing the door in the process

that someone was Reo, whose eyes looked down on you with a rather hurt and sad expression

out of nowhere, he took a gentle hold of your cheeks and softly tilted your head up so that you could look him directly into his mesmerizing eyes

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but smoking is bad for you (Y/N)-chan. You’re such a beautiful young lady and being a crackhead just doesn’t suit you, you know?”

thanks to the soft tone with which he’d complimented and lectured you, you just couldn’t be mad at him

but before you could even say anything you felt a big and strong hand slap your back with so much force that you almost fell right into Kotaro’s arms

“Geez, Nebuya you brute, how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful!”

completely ignoring the tall man’s protest the more muscular man simply laughed and took a tight hold of your upper arm saying: “All she needs are more muscles and meat on her and she’ll make a great opponent!”

the way the three of them had surrounded you while laughing at each other’s comments and even making you part of their discussion warmed your heart, and you caught yourself thinking that being the manager of this team might not be such a bad idea after all...

the day of the practice match came along and you were a bundle of nerves

who would’ve thought that you’d actually prefer going to the gym to check up on the players instead of straight-up heading back home

much to your surprise, it didn’t even take you three days to get almost every club member to respect you, sure there were obstacles along the way, but you managed to deal with them rather quickly

not too long ago, you had actually helped out Mayuzumi, who usually avoided you and barely ever talked to you

you had been on your way to your usual spot to light up a joint and just before you cut the corner you heard some loud voices

“Just ‘cause you’re in the basketball club, doesn’t make you special!”

“What’s with those dead-looking fish eyes of yours anyway?”

“C’mon guys, don’t you see that we’re wasting his precious reading time here? Let’s hurry up and scram so that he can continue reading his novel!”

you had no idea just what the hell was going on, but it sounded a lot like someone was getting bullied and you weren’t in the mood to let it slide

“Ok guys, I need you to wrap whatever this is up. I’m in a rather bad mood right now and I really need a smoke, so get going” you said in a rather dark tone

the students who had encircled someone you couldn’t quite identify yet jumped a little at your sudden intervention and turned their attention to you

all remarks they had prepared for you were gone the moment they realized just who was standing in front of them

nevertheless, the group remained stubborn and tried to chase you away by asking you to wait for a little

while you were dealing with the group, the person they had ganged up on stood up from the ground and that’s when you finally recognized who they were bullying

Isn’t that...Mayuzumi?

and at that moment something inside of you clicked

with confident steps, you made your way to the tall young man and placed a hand on his shoulder

“There you are and here I was thinking you’d bailed on me” you began as you gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him a signal to make him play along before you continued, “I got your stuff, you got the money?”

thanks to his constant poker face and slight nod the group of bullies was instantly on their guard

in order to give them their last push you pulled out a small and transparent bag with white powder out of your pocket

“You guys are still here? Sorry, but if you wanted a package you should’ve told me beforehand. Just so you know, it isn’t going to be cheap.”

seconds later the group finally gave up and stormed off, murmuring something about it not being worth the trouble

as soon as they were gone you let out a loud sigh of relief and crouched down, exclaiming how relieved you were that it was finally over

your sudden reaction caught the young man off guard and at first, he was stomped at what to do but he eventually crouched down next to you

“If you were that scared you shouldn’t have helped me in such an...unorthodox way. They might snitch on you, you know?”

you couldn’t help but giggle at the rather clumsy way he tried to thank and reassure you

“It’s fine even if they do, the teachers wouldn’t be surprised anyway and besides...that bag contains nothing more but some makeup powder I got from Reo to...to hide the bags under my eyes.”

even though you whispered the last part Mayuzumi still heard it and then chuckled

since then he actually began listening to you and even talked to you whenever no one was around

the other three were fond of you since day one so you had no trouble dealing with them whatsoever, or protecting them for that matter

someone was making rude remarks about Nebuya while he ate his daily portion of meat (which equaled five of yours)?

you’d tap them on the shoulder, lean on them and say that they were lucky enough he didn’t hear them, or else he might actually devour them instead

hearing how people made fun of Reo’s way of talking and even shun him for his behavior behind his back?

you’d directly go up to them and intentionally talk in a loud voice for everyone to hear how cowardly they were and how their behavior would drag their beloved school’s reputation down if you decided on making it public

witnessing how naive and warm-hearted Kotaro got roped into some even shadier business than what you were up to with sugarcoated words?

you’d do something similar to how you saved Mayuzumi back then: threats and bluffs and luckily all of them worked out in your favor

the only one who needed more time to warm up to you was Akashi

it was obvious that he hadn’t approved of you despite your (in your eyes) good performance during the first practice match

he’d simply nodded in the end and coldly stated that he’d accept this rather poor performance, warning you that there would be consequences if you don’t improve yourself

back then the others had joined you on the bench and were trying to cheer you up by saying that the red-haired young man was usually that demanding, but only towards people he knew had the potential...in a way he was trying to bring forth your hidden talent

with these sweet words and your own ambition to prove yourself to the seemingly perfect emperor, you finally started taking the club more serious than you’d originally intended

What did he just say..?

“Sei-chan, y-you....you can’t be serious”

“Akashi...”

said man turned towards you guys with a warm but twisted smile as he stretched his hand out towards you

“I swear to you, that if we lose this match, I will leave the club and...gouge both of my eyes out, and give them to you.”

after that proclamation each of the players gave it more than just their all, even you who could do nothing but cheer them on from the bench began analyzing everything you could from your team’s opponents

during that very emotional match, you found yourself praying multiple times that your team wins and not only because of Akashi’s oath but because you knew just how much they had trained for this

additionally, Kotaro and the others told you that this match was of utmost importance to the captain and his former teammates, all the more reason for you to worry

sadly in the end you guys lost and you were too overwhelmed with everything that had transpired in the last quarters

Zone? What the hell is that?

Another Akashi? How is something like that even possible?

the entire Rakuzan team walked back to the locker room in complete silence and that silence remained until all of them had changed their clothes

“(Y/N)-chan, let’s go,” said Reo in a gentle and silent tone as he gently squeezed your shoulder

“Y-You guys can go on ahead, I still have to check something” you answered with an apologetic smile

you were thankful that the young man could read the mood and agreed, so you re-entered the locker room, looking around searching for something

the moment you wanted to take a step forward, your legs gave out and you fell to your knees

H-Huh..? What’s w-wrong with me, I-I need to get up...

no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t muster the strength to stand up, and before you knew it, tears had started rolling down your cheeks without stopping

frustration, despair, anger, and sadness overcame you and at some point you caught your thoughts drifting off in a direction you had never taken before

with trembling hands, you took a small package full of some kind of powder out of your jacket and looked at it

you weren’t the type to resort to real hardcore drugs and as of late you had been so busy with the team that even your usual smoke breaks became less and less, but now...

just as you were about to open the small bag in your hands the door to the changing room slowly opened

“A-Akashi...?”

the young man looked at you with a worried expression and as soon as he saw what you held in your hands he grew even sadder

without saying anything he simply walked towards you, kneeled down, and embraced you

you were quite shocked at first, but too emotionally tired to resist at this point so you simply let him comfort you

he told you that these overwhelming emotions you were going through right now were normal and absolutely understandable in this situation, and even without you saying how guilty you felt for the boys’ loss he calmed you down by stating that one person alone could not be at fault for an entire team’s failure

that day engraved itself in your brain and you promised yourself that you’d give it your all and even go further beyond it, just so you wouldn’t have to see the sad faces of the people who had given you a chance and loved you for who you are, including all of your “flaws”

unbeknownst to you, they had also found the same resolution as you

the day on which they had lost their match against Seirin made them realize that there was indeed something lacking in their way of playing basketball, and in order to improve that they had to start with a rather peculiar mission, namely to make you, their manager, proud and make sure that you never cried ever again...

#knb headcanons #rakuzan x reader #knb angst #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #fun-times-oflife

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stellar-imagines · 4 years

Text

HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝roomies.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Takami Keigo, Dabi ]

「Headcanons of Hawks and Dabi with quirkless rommate. 」

TAKAMI KEIGO (HAWKS)

♤ You were just a normal university student trying to find a place to live in Tokyo. Moving from your hometown was not easy, especially when you've been there for most of your life and that it's not a busy place like Tokyo. Your parents had gotten a bit too carried away and wanted to ensure that you were comfortable in Tokyo. The apartment you were offered by a housing agency was one on the top floor, two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a bathroom. The interior was simple and spacious, certainly a bit too large for one person.

♤ So, your housing agent brought in a roommate for you. Of course, you didn't mind at all. The rent was split, and having someone around didn't seem like a bad idea at all. However, at first, you barely saw this roommate of yours. You could only see traces, the used cutleries in the sink, the fresh scent coming from the bathroom, and whatnot. From all that, you deduced that it was a male you were living with. It took you almost a week to realize that Hawks was your roommate.

♤ As the Number Two Pro Hero, this guy is rarely at home so the chances of the two of you meeting will be very rare. The very few times you would meet would be on the days you have stayed up all night to do your projects or study for an upcoming exam. So the only time you two actually manage to sit and have a nice long chat was on Hawks's very rare day-offs. He would take his time to get to know you, from what you study to your hobbies and more detailed things.

♤ Hawks is very talkative and can have a prolonged conversation with you so casually. He let it slip that he's only like this to people he liked. This guy dislikes formalities and does not care about social status or recognition so he doesn't think too much when you told him that you're quirkless. On his day-offs, he would invite you to take it easy with him in the living room, eat some good food and have a nice long chat to unwind. And he has a lot of interesting stories, since he's always flying about and sees a lot of things.

♤ Since this guy isn't always at home, the apartment was always clean except for his room. He comes home at absurd hours and would just take a quick shower, throwing his clothes haphazardly onto the ground, and go straight to bed. And he seems to really like ordering take out. You know this because he would ask if you wanted anything before he ordered anything. Usually, its pizza, fried chicken, or curry. This guy just likes chicken wings and fried chicken a little bit too much.

♤ The two of you never really argue over anything. The house is always clean, you both took turns taking out the trash no matter how busy you both were. One thing that's a bit interesting is how you would be seated on the couch watching a movie and Hawks would suddenly decide to sit next to you in the middle of it, and watch the rest of the movie with you. He steals your snacks, much to your dismay but he repays you by surprising you with some of your favorite foods.

♤ Honestly, Hawks appears to not know what a door is. Really. He almost never uses the front door to enter the apartment and always opted for the balcony by the living room. You once woke up in the middle of the night, hearing a crash, the sound of glass breaking and footsteps. You grabbed your thickest book and chucked it at whoever entered the apartment. What you get was a loud "What the hell are you doing woman? It's just me!" as a reply. You soon learn that this guy prefers flying through the balcony to get into the apartment and always leave it unlocked.

♤ You never knew how annoying it was to have a roommate with wings until you met Hawks. He seems to really like messing around with you, especially using his quirk. Hawks is naturally a playful guy so you can't do anything about it. Sometimes he would use his feather to hold up your things out of your reach. Once he’s comfortable with you, he would annoy you even further. But depending overall, he’s a good roommate who respects your boundaries and privacy.

DABI

☆ You were a quirkless student just trying your best to survive and get through college. You were searching for an apartment that was close to your school to save transportation money. The place fit all the requirements and you quickly moved in after the landlord showed you the room. They did tell you about having a roommate living together with you but you thought nothing about it until you actually met him. First impression, he was intimidating and looked like your local rebellious yakuza. Honestly, you always reminded yourself to not get involved with him.

☆ The first time you run into each other was in the middle of the night and you almost mistook him as a murderer until you noticed how he came in through the front door and took off his shoes. Who wouldn't think he's some sort of killed with that patches of gnarled, wrinkled, purple skin that covers his lower face and neck, all the way down past his collarbone, below his eyes and on his arms and legs. Not to mention, those staples and hoop piercings that are attached to his skin. In addition, those several piercings in both ears, and on the right side of his nose.

☆ Dabi is a man who’s what we call a lone wolf and he’s been alone most of the time so when he moved in, he was surprised to see you around the apartment. He didn't know that he was going to have a roommate. Honestly, he was expecting to have the whole place to himself without any disturbance. He's a very mysterious person who trusts no one, preferring to do things alone and in his own way. So he ignores you most of the time. The first time you met him was something that you would remember for a long time.

☆ However, he wasn't like any roommate you expect. He's not a good roommate nor was he a bad roommate. He's actually very rude and condescending to everyone he interacts with. Obviously, you were no exception. He's distant and emanates an aura that basically tells you that he's not interested in being friends with you. So in the beginning, he didn't bother talking to you and completely ignored your existence. But he doesn't disturb you at all and keeps the apartment surprisingly clean.

☆ When you're both already friends and somewhat comfortable with each other, he will be more casual with the way he talks to you, as if he's talking to an old friend. Sometimes he would steal bits of your food while you're in the middle of making something. He calls you a nerd constantly because he sees you in the living room doing your homework, sometimes calling with your friends to discuss a project and studying for tests or quizzes. He never really cared whether you were a quirkless person or not. Sometimes he calls you weak and harmless because you're quirkless.

☆ How you grew to tolerate each other was because of one event. It was extremely late on that day, you were hunched over your notes in the living room, with only the light from your laptop providing illumination. Dabi wasoutside by the balcony, minding his own business and staring a the street below. He eventually came inside to see you still awake. Usually he didn't care about what you do that much at that moment, he said, "You've been studying for days, you'll do fine, just go to bed." Then he left for his room. You were a bit surprised that he actually paid attention to you. Sometimes, he would put a blanket over you when he finds you sleeping on the couch.

☆ He's barely at home because of his occupation. Dabi doesn't really hide his occupation because he doesn't really care what you think about it. Since you barely see him, you don't have any idea that he's a villain. And honestly, it worries you that he's always coming home in the middle of the night. Before you got friendly with one another, you'd leave notes, telling him to keep it down at night because you're trying to sleep. Over time, you'd leave notes reminding him to get enough sleep. Sometimes, you'd leave some food for him on the dinner table.

☆ Unexpectedly grows attached to you. He sees the apartment as a place where he can let his guard down and relax. He doesn't want to be on alert within his place of comfort and relaxation. You never poked into his business and you respected his privacy. He was the same also, though he always looked like he never cared about what you're doing. He feels somewhat at ease seeing you just relaxing.

Total: 742 words Published: 05.10.2020

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ I've seen other people assume roommates are people who live in the same apartment and in different rooms. So we just went with it. I have been very busy with a lot of things and didn’t have time to update. And we’re swamped with so many requests. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Certainly hope that you don't mean living in the same room, anon..... We suddenly have a lot of requests..... That’s good but please remember we take a long ass time to finish one. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

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Latest part of my commission series from an awesome person, now on part three of the Brave Police hanging with the Lost Light!

Kazuto Azuma had known nothing but one long, continuing headache from the moment he'd allowed the Brave Police to be commissioned. Between their eventual acclimation of sentience to the constant additions to their numbers, they'd turned what was supposed to be a public relations move into a nightmare of paperwork and legal ramifications, mostly to be dealt with by him.

And all for what, so they could have feelings? Emotions that did nothing to help while they were on the job, and only resulted in insubordination and disaster for his end? He doubted anyone could live a day in his shoes and see them as anything but a gigantic inconvenience, and an expensive one at that!

Thus, it seemed fitting that he hadn't time to celebrate their apparent loss in space before receiving a message that they were somehow fine, and worse, had been rescued by Cybertronians.

Reading the transcript again, word for word, the vice commissioner had to resist the urge to crumple it into garbage. Of all the fates they could have met, of all the ways he could have finally been rid of them, they had been picked up by the biggest robotic nuisance in the galaxy? Even if they had spent little time in Japan, Cybertronians had made their mark well known on earth, and the litany of restrictions against them spoke to the nature of their destructive presence. Despite being machines, they had no inclination nor any kind of desire to heed the will of humans, and thus every government they dealt with was left with a huge and expensive mess. Knowing that the already rowdy Brave Police were in such company was… disturbing. Who was to say what horrible habits they could pick up while cruising back to Earth at such an apparent lackadaisical speed? Just the rudeness it took to return with "relaxed urgency" as the message had put it was enough to make his blood boil, and he had no reason to believe the few days it would take for them to arrive might leave them even more unmanageable by the end.

At the very least, before it came to that, he had a rare opportunity in a tiny window of time. Neither the Tomonaga brat nor Saejima knew any of this yet, and he was in no rush to let them know of the development. Surely it wouldn't be too bad if they received the news a little late, continuing to believe the bots were MIA in the depths of space, while he made a little call.

Adjusting his suit to appear less ruffled, he left his office behind and ventured into the depths of the building, where the communication center was nestled amongst a swarm of high tech enhancements and long range experimental equipment. It was here the first message had been received, and it was here he would send back a reply. Staff, already informed of the plan, set to work as soon as he arrived. The report had mentioned that there was some unknown and invisible "tether" of sorts connecting to their end, likely a way for long distance communication to happen instantaneously even when only one side had the technology to make it happen, and had likely been left in place for the express purpose of getting a reply back. Azuma intended to use it for just such a thing.

A great monitor for communicating visually faced him in the pulpit where he'd chosen to stand, and he made it a point to ensure he was presentable. Robots or not, it was important he established he was a prominent figure that required respect, assuming the Brave Police hadn't had the last of that knocked out of them by their troublesome rescuers…

"It it ready?" he asked after checking his watch, knowing that he only had as long as it took for Saejima or Yuuta to arrive and receive their initial briefing. It had taken all of his influence to ensure they weren't informed immediately, so he had to make the delay count.

"Yes, Mr. Azuma." an engineer replied hastily, nodding to his co-workers with a neutral expression of assent. Several great switches were flipped and the building hummed with tremendous energy, the invisible tether for communication igniting to allow an instantaneous connection across the vastness of space.

-----

Sitting idly at the bridge, Rodimus allowed himself to more or less sink into the captain's chair in boredom, wishing desperately that he could be at the bar having fun with their guests like everyone else. But, of course, plotting a reroute to Earth didn't happen on it's own. For reasons he couldn't begin to understand, the Brave Police had indeed been insistent about returning home with relative speed. It was only because of the message they'd been able to send that he'd been able to get them to take it slow at all… Ah well, at least they did seem to be happy about going home. Earth did have its charms-

An unexpected beep from an incoming message made him flail nearly to the point of crashing, but thankfully he managed to catch himself and flip right side up, plopping down into a somewhat respectable position in his chair just as the computer brought through the signal.

A face so grumpy it would have made Magnus appear sociable appeared on screen, and Rodimus recognized the speaker as human just before he began speaking the same language used by the Brave Police. "This is Kazuto Azuma, Vice-Commissioner of the Brave Police Force in Tokyo, Japan. Who am I speaking with?"

"Uh, Rodimus, Captain of the Lost Light." he replied automatically, having heard friendlier opening statements from enemies about to open fire. There was also no memory of this person being mentioned by the Braves, but he had figured their organization was a big one, so he tried to take the helpful route. "What can I do for you?"

"Are the Brave Police in your custody?" Azuma asked pointedly, and Rodimus knew with just a few words he wasn't going to like this particular human. Just managing to hold off a frown, he replied with a carefully chosen sentence, folding his hands together to keep them from forming fists.

"They're our guests, yeah." he said, hearing approaching footsteps from the side door. Judging by the pace and weight, they belonged to Magnus, who could always be expected to check in when a message came in. Thankfully the mech also had the sense to be subtle about it, so Rodimus made no move to acknowledge the big bot when he stepped quietly into the room off camera. Having a calm bastion of reason was going to be critical in keeping this from becoming an incident.

"Per your communication, you are not making utmost haste to return to Earth, is that correct?" Azuma asked, the question sounding more like an accusation to Rodimus given the aggressive way it was delivered. It proved to be one when he wasn't even allowed a chance to reply before he was being chewed out. "I demand an immediate increase in your speed, they must be returned to us as fast as your technology allows!"

Dentae clenching, he tried to hide how thoroughly enraged the tone made him, especially with the particular choice of words. Did this guy really think he had any kind of authority here? Was he so callous to the Brave Police that he regarded them as nothing but cargo to be shipped overnight? With Magnus tensing by his side, Rodimus just managed to reply without visibly clenching his jaw. "Is there some kind of emergency you need them for? Because otherwise, I don't think you have the authority to make that kind of order."

"That is none of your business, Cybertronian." Azuma retorted, practically sneering at the immature bot who was refusing to do what he was told. Assuming that the Braves would pick up anything from such hosts, he was certain it would be uncooperative behavior like this, and at this rate that seemed more and more unavoidable… He'd probably have to try and convince the Commission to reprogram the entire group.

"It's Rodimus, human." Rodimus sneered right back, gradually letting his scant efforts to look professional fade out into open contempt. Every word seemed to confirm his worst fears about earth and the Brave Police, and he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of just dropping them off back home. With people like Azuma about, it seemed equivalent to leaving a group of cybersheep surrounded by hungry turbofoxes, and he was not about to let those bots come to harm. Sitting back more formally in his chair, Rodimus tried to cut an intimidating figure. "This is my ship, so that means if you expect it to jump, I need to know why."

"This is pointless." Azuma clipped, sputtering as he fought to keep his anger in check to avoid looking too flustered. Looking about what little of the ship he could see, he tried to find any trace of the bots he was looking for. At the moment he'd settle for anything more cooperative than this fire patterned Cybertronian. "Where are you keeping the Brave Police? I must speak with them."

"Okay, because you're having a hard time grasping this, we aren't keeping them anywhere. They're not cargo, they're our guests." Rodimus replied, standing up from his chair as the energon in his veins started to run hot. If a human could be so condescending now, what did those bots have to endure on a day to day basis? Protective instincts told him to never give a human the opportunity to hurt them again, leaving him tempted to kill the communication as Azuma sputtered through an increasingly red face.

"That-"

"Secondly, you aren't going to just hop on my channel and start barking orders." Rodimus interrupted, not intending to give the man a second to recuperate. He wanted the tiny organic to realize he had no power here, and that the Brave Police would not have to endure any further bullying on his watch.

Azuma, never one to put the pieces together expediently if he didn't like the picture, continued to press every metaphorical button possible to anger the captain. "This is absurd! I don't know how your laws, if you have them, presume to function but by the standards of earth you're in possession of stolen property!"

Rodimus felt his vents hitch, and thankfully Magnus was already mobilizing just before he could finish the thought someone might eventually regret.

"Now that's where I'm gonna need you to stop-"

"I can assist with this matter." Ultra Magnus said plainly, stepping into the video and laying a hand on Rodimus's shoulder. The gesture appeared amicable, but was more than a little forceful, pushing the captain back into a seating position. Reading the intent loud and clear, the smaller mech still pouted as he conceded and sat back down. Choosing the smart path never felt as good, especially because Azuma looked pleased by the turn of events as Magnus took over. "Greetings, Mr. Azuma, I am Ultra Magnus. Perhaps the best way to proceed is to allow the Brave Police to speak for themselves? I have already asked that they come to the Bridge."

"Acceptable." Azuma replied simply, appearing less ruffled but no more amicable. At the very least he was silent until a group of bots audibly approached at full speed, and after just a minute of tense silence their wait ended and the bots of the hour entered the room.

Rodimus couldn't help tensing at how the human regarded the group with barely concealed contempt.

"Vice-Commissioner, we came as soon as we heard you were in contact!" Deckerd said the moment he stepped into the Bridge, snapping to a salute that his companions mirrored with varying amounts of success. It was a greeting so proper and well mannered one would have thought they were interacting with a popular superior, and the effort they'd put in made Rodimus frown with dissatisfaction. Azuma didn't even bother with a wave as they continued. "As stated in our message, we are all intact and accounted for, and will be arriving at earth in due course!"

There was an awkward silence and a dissatisfied glare from the human before he went right into criticism. "Why are you not returning at full speed?"

Deckerd wavered in his salute, and those around him did the same. There was a moment where the bot looked about almost helpless for a reply, before carefully stringing his words together, helm lowered the whole time like a child caught in the wrong. "We… we do not want to pressure our hosts, Mr. Azuma. They have been most accommodating-"

"Ah, so you've been content to stall up there, lazing around while we need you back on Earth?!" Azuma snapped, interrupting the police bot so aggressively he flinched. Rodimus clenched his servos into fists, knowing that getting involved would lead to a huge mess but caring less with every passing moment. Seeing the bright and happy bots pressed into a corner was making him absolutely enraged, to the point the air about him wavered from the heat. Only a firm hand on his shoulder from an equally simmering Magnus kept him in check.

"Their technology is quite advanced, but it would still be strained by an immediate trip to Earth." McCrane offered helpfully, stepping in as he always did when things were tense. A grateful smile in his direction from Deckerd was so subtle and quick it may have been a trick of the light.

"We would not wish to cause our rescuers any kind of harm or stress." Duke confirmed, stepping to the front with a level of calm control not yet seen by anyone on the ship. The transformation from shy and quiet to bold and in control impressed the Cybertronians present immensely, but had no impact on the fuming Azuma, who didn't take well to being told no in very certain terms.

"Unacceptable!" he barked, making Drill Boy flinch and step closer to the others for security. Though they appeared quite accustomed to the man's badgering, the stress was no less considerable, and they all shared the same tense mannerisms of a cornered animal. Rodimus could feel himself reaching his boiling point, and knew it was now a matter of when rather than if. There'd be no holding him back once that was reached, and thankfully Magnus appeared to be in similar straights. One could almost see the anger breaking through his usually stoic frown.

"Are you really trying to convince me there is no way for you to arrive sooner? That you're just going to laze about in space because there are no other options?!" Azuma said, grilling the Brave Police so readily it was obvious he had considerable experience with the task. It hit Rodimus in that moment; this was merely how they were treated with an audience, what was this man like in private? What terrible things had he said or done to these bots when no one was there to protect them? The thought flipped a powerful switch inside him, and before he knew it he was rising from his chair, having been given free reign to do so by an equally protective Magnus.

"Vice-Commissioner-"

"Alright, I don't think we're communicating effectively here." Rodimus said loudly, stepping in front of the Brave Police to form a physical barrier with his larger frame. Deckerd appeared worried by the action, but the captain didn't flinch, putting his hands on his hips as he faced the monitor with a plastered on smile. "Look buddy, maybe your human technology is buggy so you're not hearing us clearly…"

Azuma fumed, visibly growing hot under his collar as the bot he had no power over flounced about before him. "You-"

"So allow me to make it loud and clear! They'll be there in a few days at the earliest, got it?" Rodimus replied, cupping a hand beside his mouth so he could bark the words back as loudly and obnoxiously as physically possible.

"I do not believe you understand the situation!" Azuma sputtered, and Rodimus was tempted to reply with something far more crass than what he eventually settled on.

"Try me!"

"Perhaps it is unclear, due to personal reasons fogging your judgement, but the Brave Police are the property of the Japanese government! You risk a great incident by delaying their return!" the Vice-Commissioner said, unintentionally striking the deepest possible nerve within every bot present. Rodimus felt something snap inside of him at the way the word property was uttered, and he was so revolted the human was able to take advantage of his horrified silence to continue. "They may look like you, but they are Earth made, not Cybertronian! Their physical appearance should tell you that much."

Magnus stiffened at his side, the big mech's equivalent to what would have been a shocked gasp by most other bots. Through sheer incompetence, Azuma had managed to put together an insult so grave no Cybertronian could let it stand, though the Brave Police themselves appeared resigned to the treatment. Only a murmur from Drill Boy came in response.

"Is he calling us ugly?" the dejected little bot said just loud enough to be heard from his fellows, and a simultaneously comforting and silencing hand was laid on his shoulder by Shadow Maru.

"Okay, see… I thought we were getting along okay here, but I think things are getting out of hand…" Rodimus said in a halfway bitter laugh, pinching the bridge of his nasal ridge as the full torrent of anger he wanted to unleash stewed inside of him. Though there were quite a few foul words in the mix, he cared very little for propriety, especially when none had been directed their way since the conversation had begun. "Because I can't help telling you what a massive and egotistical-

"Rodimus!" Deckerd whispered in warning, his frightened expression only managing to fuel the fire. After all, why would these bots be afraid, except if terrible things could happen if they disobeyed? He was going to go nuclear on their behalf, just to make it clear there was nothing to fear while they were with him.

"Vice-Commissioner!"

Every single being involved in the conversation froze when a voice cut through from the other end of the call, echoing through the long distance tether as someone approached Azuma from an out of frame location. Rodimus lost all of his fire and only stared in total confusion as the once haughty human blanched at the sight of whomever had called for him, and the expression of worry only intensified as the voice cut it again.

"Vice-Commissioner, what is the meaning of this?!" the unknown speaker said, their tone gruff but somehow personable and animated as their laid into the other man from offscreen. A look in the direction of the Brave Police revealed only a shared smile of relief amongst them.

"C-Commissioner!" Azuma sputtered, stepping away from the podium to meet with whomever had arrived. The Lost Light was treated to a somewhat distorted view of the out of focus man they'd just been arguing with as he tried and failed to make his case. A sharp rebuttal was issued before a single word could pass his lips.

"You received word that the Brave Police are alive and well, and we were not informed immediately?!" a man said as he appeared suddenly in the view, advancing upon Azuma with his greater height and build as the smaller Vice-Commissioner backed up at every word. To the surprise of a greatly entertained Rodimus, a small human appeared as well, undoubtedly a child. The little boy glared up at Azuma with all the rage Rodimus had been feeling moments prior and then some.

"You jerk, how could you lie to us!?"

Azuma ignored the child altogether to retort to his apparent boss, pointing at the screen where Rodimus was still front and center with his current expression of total bafflement. As if it would clear his transgressions, he announced his argument for everything with as much desperation as could be packed into so few words. "Saejima, they're with Cybertronians!"

Worlds apart, the two groups fell into total and oppressive silence. Rodimus met the eyes of the man called Saejima, and immediately got the sense he was dealing with someone who actually had a backbone and a conscience just by the way he apologized with his expression alone. Clearing his throat, the man gave his subordinate a flat look and spoke with undeniable authority.

"We shall discuss this later."

Like any bully, the defeated Azuma slunk off, leaving his superior to clear his throat and take center stage on the pulpit. The confused child remained at his side when he finally addressed the Autobots.

"My apologies." he said calmly, giving Rodimus the comfort he needed to step in line with the Brave Police so they could be seen far more clearly. The man smiled as he caught sight of the bots. "Is everyone safe and accounted for-"

Without any warning, the child lit up as he saw the Brave Police, his wide eyes locking on Deckerd as he ran up to the monitor as if it were a barrier. Tears began to flow unabated as he cried out in a voice choked with emotion. "Deckerd?! Deckerd, are you there?!"

In another surprise for Rodimus, the always restrained police car pushed right past him and mirrored the boy's actions, his optics lighting up as he replied with equal jubilation.

"Yuuta!" he cried happily, his tone alone making it clear he adored the little human bawling his eyes out a billion miles away. Rodimus and Magnus exchanged shared looks of total surprise and confusion. Neither had ever seen a human and a bot so incredibly close, and the two weren't even done.

Sniffling so hard he could barely talk, Yuuta tried in vain to wipe away tears, looking to each of the Brave Police as tears continued streaming down his face. "Deckerd! Build Team! Everyone!" Each and every bot came behind Deckerd to joyfully greet the human Rodimus recalled was their fabled "boss", and judging by their smiles none felt anything but relief to see him again. The crying adolescent made it clear why they all loved Earth with a single heartfelt phrase. "You're all okay!"

"We're more than okay, these guys rule!" Drill Boy interjected, clamoring over the bigger bots to be seen.

"They've welcomed us into their home, and they're bringing us home while showing us the sights on the way back!" Power Joe said, gushing as if describing a vacation.

"Boss, please tell Ayako I am safe! I know she'll only believe it from you!" Dumpson said, spurring McCrane to make a similar request.

"Please tell Seia the same!"

"Make sure nobody touches my bike until I get back, that includes you!" Gunmax said playfully, obviously just messing with the little human. Yuuta nodded and smiled through his tears, overwhelmed with happy relief that Rodimus had to admit was beyond touching to witness.

"Stay safe, miniboss." Shadow Maru said simply, and at his side, Duke cleared his vents before speaking softly.

"Make sure Regina is okay, she won't admit that she's worried." he said, and Yuuta nodded in acknowledgment and a kind of deep understanding.

"As you can see, Commissioner, we are all doing quite well." Deckerd said once everyone had spoken their peace, smiling as he was shushed in amongst the group. Saejima smiled in kind, and Rodimus found something inherently trustworthy in the expression.

"That is a relief." he said calmly, sighing ad a great weight of worry disappeared from his relaxing shoulders. "I must apologize on behalf of my subordinate once again, Captain. Please excuse his behavior, as he does not speak for us. We are beyond grateful for your actions."

"Thank you for rescuing my friends." Yuuta added, finally getting his tears under control long enough to speak clearly. Rodimus found his spark flickering at all the gratitude he felt hit him from a galaxy away.

"Uh, no problem. We'll get them home safely." he said, a little unsure of himself at the total whiplash the conversation had taken. How was it that a planet capable of producing an Azuma could also have people like this? Then again, the same could be said of Cybertron several times over, couldn't it?

"Mr. Commissioner!" the offscreen voice of an engineer said with urgency. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but this communication is taxing our equipment heavily! I'm afraid we have to end the call."

"Understood!" Saejima said, speaking fast in the wake of the news. "Until we speak next, just let me say that you have our highest gratitude!"

As the older man jumped into a full salute, Yuuta spoke with the speed only a child could manage, bouncing between his various concerns as the video began to fade. "Call again soon! I miss you guys! Stay safe but have fun!"

The Brave Police gushed out their farewells, waving and promising to do so with such excitement that Rodimus found himself unintentionally joining in with a tiny wave of his own before the screen went dark. He was left speechless when it did, but the bots at his side turned to each other and began to talk amongst themselves with unimaginable excitement. A million different things were said at once, most of which were praise for their tiny boss. The Captain of the Lost Light could only look on in awe at their happy circle of friends, one that just minutes before had been reduced to anxious silence at a being from the same planet.

It occurred to him in that moment why they truly wanted to go home, and he found himself smiling at the thought. Just as there were those on this ship who wanted to keep them safe, so we're there individuals on Earth to do the same. They were really loved wherever they went…

A flash of amusement tickled his spark as he thought about all those friends reacting once they heard about this call. Their protective instincts would undoubtedly be the same as his, especially for dear Tailgate, who'd more or less claimed the group as his adoptive younger brothers… along with the entire crew. It seemed they had a young human to add to that rank now.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lostlight #lost light #idw #tf #ll #my writing #my commissions #brave series #brave police j decker #brave police

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wonderrdies · 4 years

Text

if love be rough with you - part 2

In which you and Harry are professors at a prestigious Art and Language university and the animosity of part one is discussed. Also, you fuck.

disclaimer: just a huge thank you to everyone who said nice things about part one, especially @for-fucks-sake-h. I hope y’all enjoy this one!

warnings: it has sex, folks. I’m not that good at writing it, but it’s in there. also, use condoms; these intellectuals are very fictional and also horny dumbasses.

word-count: about 6,000 words

part 1

As the car rolled to a stop, lighting tore across the sky.

“Come upstairs,” you said. Obnoxiously loud thunder boomed, providing much needed context for your invitation. You didn’t like the idea of him in your space, your privacy and vulnerability out in the open where he could pick them apart. The alternative was worse, though. Finding him annoying wasn’t the same as wanting him dead in a ditch.

“No need,” Harry said calmly, the way he did everything else.

“Look, just come upstairs and leave once the rain stops. You owe me, remember?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to fight him on this. His coat was still draped over your shoulders and you had spent the last fifteen minutes in his comfortable leather seats, sipping on a water bottle he got you at a gas station. There was also a milk chocolate bar on your lap, the kind you used to eat during movie nights in university. You knew what he was thinking: if he had owed you, that didn’t look to be the case anymore. But half an hour of kindness didn’t erase the sound of his condescending darling making you feel small and embarrassed, especially when you were the one trying to help him.

“I’m not going to say please, Harry. Let’s go.”

So you walked out into the pouring rain, barely keeping from slipping and falling on your ass. His coat precariously covered your hair as you fumbled for your keys and finally got into the building.

Harry was right behind you, not saying a word as you climbed the stairs. The apartment looked so much smaller with him in it. You refused to feel embarrassed, but you could see him examining every corner from his spot next to the door as you dropped your purse and keys onto the counter that separated the kitchen and your bed.

"I—" you stopped yourself before telling him I know it's small. Having a home of your own, no matter how small, was not something you would apologize for. "Do you want something to drink or eat?"

You proceeded to take off your shoes, tie your hair back in a ponytail and brush your teeth, all while Harry stood, stiff, in the same spot without giving you an answer.

"Styles, what the hell?"

"Huh," was his brilliant response.

"Huh what?"

"You just look a little different, 's all."

"Must be the gin," you said. "Speaking of which, do you want water or wine?"

"Water's good," smiling to himself, he said: "Thank you."

"What's so amusing?"

His smile faded and you instantly regretted asking. While you poured his glass of water to the sound of heavy rain, Harry leaned on your door as if ready to run away at any second. It was a little hurtful, if you were being honest.

“You can have a seat, you know,” you handed him the glass, hoping to sound breezy and relaxed, or whatever. It didn’t come naturally. “The rain’s not going anywhere for awhile.”

Harry nodded and sitted on one of the two kitchen stools. The fact that he was so quiet almost made you miss his usual outspokenness.

As he drank his water, you sorted through the drawers of your dresser in the awkward silence, pushing aside turtlenecks and pencil skirts so you could get dry and actually comfortable clothes. Two t-shirts, two boxer shorts.

“I’ll change into something dry, you should probably do it too,” you pointed to the clothes you just dropped onto the bed, his eyes on you the whole time. “I figure these might fit you.” And before you could talk yourself out of it, you said: “You can also practice saying words while I’m in there.”

The bathroom door clicked as it closed between the two of you. Taking a deep breath, you undressed while listening for any sign that he had moved from the kitchen stool. A sign that he was mirroring your every move, peeling off wet clothing while trying to picture the other side of the door. It was foolish to project your filthy thoughts into Harry, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted so badly to believe that he was out there wanting you too, that he didn’t bring up that night so often just to humiliate you.

The soft cotton of the old university t-shirt you wore to bed looked like something out of a time machine under the bright bathroom lights with him standing outside. How many nights had you worn that same thing and smiled at him from across whatever room, beating yourself up for not being able to just say hello? Maybe more than hello.

All of it seemed to have happened many lives ago.

“Can I come out? Are you decent?” you asked, barely recognizing your own voice. It sounded too casual.

“Decent, me?” his answer came muffled. “Never, darling.”

You walked out, only to find yourself in a scene straight out of a porno. Harry was leaning on your kitchen counter, amusement in his eyes, dressed in your shakespeare is my boyfriend extra large t-shirt and way-too-tight boxers. His lilac pants and cream sweater laid in a pile on your bed looking like an afterthought and, even though he looked so different from his usual posh self, his pearl necklace was still decorating his absolutely maddening neck. He looked so much bigger. Maybe it was the way your clothes clung to his biceps and thighs, or the fact you hadn’t been this close to him without heels in years. Maybe your apartment was just too small.

“Am I wearing some other guy’s underwear?” Harry asked, suddenly serious.

“Huh?”

He looked down, pointing to his restricted and very prominent bulge, and your face was suddenly on fire. This certainly couldn’t be considered an appropriate move for a co-worker, right?

“It’s mine, Styles. I wear them to bed,” you cleared your throat, looking up again. Tugging at your own, admittedly much looser, shorts, you said: “See?”

“Yeah,” his voice was rough, barely more than a whisper. You could feel his eyes all over you, like they were fingertips threatening to touch you but never quite doing so. A shiver, like the one in the pub, ran through you, and you were suddenly aware that your nipples were very much visible and poking through thin cotton. “I see it.”

You stood still as he spoke again, trying to keep your eyes above his chin. But then again, those lips and eyes were not that much better than his cock straining against your clothes.

“Sorry about the weirdness earlier,” he continued. “I was just trying to get used to all this.”

“What’s all this?”

“You, so careless, in your natural habitat. It’s like the inside of this place is an alternate universe.”

An alternate universe, indeed. The hours of uninterrupted storming had eventually tired both of you out; you couldn’t let him stand in a corner or sit in a stiff stool all night. As it became clearer and clearer that he’d spend the night, you suggested watching a movie, even though it was obvious the two of you were exhausted. The whole thing was a poor attempt at avoiding the fact that there was no place for him to sleep but your bed. You certainly could handle smirks, teasing looks, sexually charged remarks, even handle his thighs and the outline of his cock in your clothes, or the vanilla smell he would definitely leave on your nerdy t-shirt. Would sitting in bed together and watching a movie be hard? Absolutely. But falling asleep next to him crossed some terrifying line; it had happened before, and the slightest possibility of having it happen again only so he’d use it against you later was just too much.

So now you were on your bed, backs resting against the headboard as you watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. While his legs stretched out beneath the shared gray comforter, yours were against your chest; if you curled up a little more, you’d probably disappear into thin air. His slightest move could be felt by you just by the shifting of the mattress, and the movie was next to inaudible for the sole reason that you couldn’t help but focus on the sound of him breathing right next to you. On your bed. Every few minutes you’d feel him staring at the side of your face, but your gaze remained stoically on the TV screen until he called your name in a whisper.

“Yeah?” you answered, glassed over eyes still on the movie. The second task of the Triwizard Tournament had just begun.

“I’m sorry.”

That got your attention. “What do you mean?”

“I just—” Now Harry was the one looking away from you. As if talking to the movie, he said: “I know the whole darling shit I say gets to you. And I know it’s gross to keep bringing up that night.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat. The whole thing was just too much; how dare he apologize and catch you off guard like that? Out of everything in this world he could say, that was what you least expected. It was not that you found him to be disgusting and immoral, or that you believed he acted mean because he was a genuinely bad person. You wouldn’t have put up with all the teasing if that had been the case. But you also couldn’t have imagined that he’d be brave or mature enough to apologise.

Maybe that was related to the fact that you, out of pure pride and spite, couldn’t see yourself apologizing to him.

“I think I do it because—”

“Styles,” you finally cut him off. “You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. I want to tell you I’m sorry that I’m a dick to you only because I’m insecure and kind of a coward, to be honest.”

You scoffed before realizing how rude that was.

“What?” he asked. You could see him tense up, his brows furrowing, and guilt started burning in your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “It’s not funny, I just find it hard to believe you do things out of insecurity.”

“Well,” he said, “I find it hard not to be insecure when things happened the way they did.”

Great.

“And how did things happen, huh? What are you even talking about, Harry?”

He sighed. His hand was halfway up to his face before it fell back onto the mattress af if he’d changed his mind about putting something between your eyes and his. Again, braver than you figured he could be.

“Look, I don’t want to fight. I guess I was just trying to make sure you didn’t forget.”

Suddenly there was no clarification needed. You looked at him as he nervously tugged at his pearls after having just admitted whatever happened between you two had meant something to him. At least it had meant enough that he needed you to remember it. How could I ever forget it?, you wanted to ask him. But it was stupid and cheesy, so you settled for wondering it in silence. How could you ever forget the giggles as he shut the bathroom door behind you, or the way you gasped as he fucked you with his fingers against the wall, his warm breath on your neck and his other palm keeping you quiet? There certainly was no forgetting his gaze through the rest of the graduation party, the brush of his hand against his lips like he wanted you to see what he was thinking about.

Once the party was almost over, he had walked over to you and said Please in the softest of voices while taking your hand. How could you ever forget that?

“I didn’t forget,” you told him now.

Harry must have seen something true in your expression, because he didn’t say another word until the movie was over.

“Should I go?” he asked, voice thick after just waking up. He had inevitably fallen asleep during the third quarter of the movie. Also exhausted, you had laid beside him at some point, making sure to put as much space as possible between your bodies. It wasn’t a lot of space.

The room was dark except for the street lights shining dimly through your curtains, so you could barely see him even though you were facing each other. His head was already on your extra pillow, your calves already on the brink of touching. Your comforter already smelled of vanilla. Should he go? Probably. But what would be the use of him leaving? There was more damage to be done if he were to drive on dark and slick roads without enough sleep.

“No,” you murmured back. “Stay.”

“That’s what I told you,” he said, sleepiness nearly gone from his voice. “Back then.”

The shadow of a smile settled on your lips. “Yeah. I was so fucking awkward about the whole thing, wasn’t I?”

“No, I thought you looked cute in my kitchen.”

You chuckled and looked at his shoulder, because it seemed close enough to his face that he wouldn’t notice you couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. The nervous edge to your laughter seemed to echo in the room.

“And then you laughed, just like that, when I told you to come back to bed.”

“I was embarrassed, Harry.”

“I could tell,” he said. Harry shifted a little; you could feel his leg leaning on yours as he got closer. “You kept tugging at my t-shirt like you wanted to hide your thighs from me.”

“Kind of pointless,” you said. He stayed quiet for a second too long as one of his legs found its way between yours. Your breath hitched in your throat even though there was no pressure; his thigh was just there, and if you moved just a tiny bit—

“Yeah, but I sort of appreciated it,” his hand touched your chin so lightly you could have imagined it. So much for looking away. Staring you in the eye, as stern as you’d ever seen him, he said: “I enjoyed watching you squirm.”

Fuck him. That’s not what insecure men sounded like. You turned away from him, your core rubbing against his thigh in the process of disentangling your legs. Hopefully the gasp leaving your lips had been made quieter by the sound of the covers moving and your body hitting the mattress. With Harry’s breath on the back of your neck, you anxiously moved, trying to find a comfortable position in which you could forget, for even a split of a second, that he was right there behind you.

“Hey,” he said, amused. “I know I just said I like it when you squirm but maybe you should—”

A careless shift of your hips and your ass was suddenly right against his cock.

“—stop.”

And he was hard. Now still, with your back to his front, you called his name.

“Harry?” It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but your voice trembled at the last second.

“Sorry,” but he didn’t sound apologetic at all. “We were just talking about you in my shirt and all of that, so…”

“God, Styles.”

Harry laughed, and you felt it in the spot right under your ear. You pressed your thighs together since your frustration with his shamelessness wasn’t able to end the urge of grinding back against him. Just a little bit more, and then maybe you could fall asleep and wait until he was gone to masturbate and pretend this all had been a fever dream.

His hand grabbed your waist harshly as you moved your ass again.

“Are you sure you want this?”

You didn’t answer him, or ask what exactly this was, but you did push against him once more. Some stupid part of you hoped he would play along and let things go unspoken, but Harry just used the hand on your hip to keep you still as he spoke again.

“Say you’re sure,” he murmured. His mouth was closer now, and you could feel every word on his lips against your neck. The hand that rested on your waist fell to your stomach, pulling you into him. “And I’ll help you."

"Styles," you breathed out, looking down as he lifted your t-shirt just enough so his fingertips would brush the skin above the waistband of your shorts. "I don't—"

"What?" his chuckle echoed through your entire body. There wasn't an inch of space between the two of you. "Are you going to say you don't know what I'm talking about?"

You choked on a whimper.

"All you have to do is ask," a light kiss under your ear. That was the first time he kissed you in years, and it almost broke you. But that wasn't what did it. Harry broke you by whispering, so quietly you could have imagined it: "I won't hold it against you, love."

The realisation that you believed him was enough to make you say a soft okay.

There was no hesitation; his hand slid down the front of your boxers, the heat of his palm right between your legs. Your thighs closed around him, a moan caught in your throat as two of his fingers rubbed your clit through your panties. You were a mess, it was true, but Harry didn't seem much better. His heavy breath sounded obscene against your neck, his cock twitching at the small of your back.

"Spread your legs," he said, struggling to touch you in such a tight space. It sounded like an order.

"Don't tell me what to do," you said, barely disguising your lust behind annoyance. Then you spread your legs, letting Harry move his fingers in small circles that got you dripping without ever being enough. You tried shifting your hips to get more friction, but he kept rubbing you slowly as you soaked through your panties, seemingly entertained by your desperation. "Harry," you called, breathless.

"Yeah?"

The hand that wasn't under your clothes came to tug on your hair, and you burned. Your scalp, your skin, your pussy. He set it all on fire. One of your hands gripped his thigh, a soft moan leaving your lips as he responded to your touch by tightening the hold on your makeshift ponytail.

"Touch me."

He didn't try pretending to not understand what you meant, which you were thankful for. Then he fucked that up by muttering, ever so fucking smug, "Don't tell me what to do."

"Asshole," you hissed at the same time he moved the fabric of your underwear aside to tease your entrance with the fingers that had been touching your clit.

"Don't be mean, love," he started fingering you, slow but firm, the filthy sound of your wetness echoing in the room as his fingers curled inside you. "I know how you really feel."

There was no way you could muster up an answer; eyes hazy and jaw slack with arousal, you let him fuck you for what felt like ages without being able to form a single word. Sometimes he'd brush his thumb against you clit just so you'd clench around his hand, whining quietly as he muffled his own sounds on the crook of your neck. Once or twice he appeared to think you were gone enough to not notice as he tried to get his cock away from your body in a futile attempt of self-restraint, but each time you pulled him back by the thigh, grinding into him and getting fucked deeper as a result. Harry punished you for that by pulling harder on your hair, delighting himself in the fact that it only made you wetter, your movements more eager.

As your hips stuttered at another soft touch to your clit, Harry whispered, "Does it feel good?"

What a prick. He wanted you praising him, didn't he? Wanted you admitting how hot this all was, how you would have let him do anything to you. Harry wanted you to tell him how good he was at pushing your every button, clearing every thought on your head until him filling you was all that was left.

"What do you think?" you said between gritted teeth. Sweat dripped down the back of your neck as his fingers shifted in your cunt and he hit that particular spot inside you. Your glassy eyes fell shut at the sound of his voice.

"I think I missed this pussy," he said. You moaned as a third finger slid easily beside the others and the hand on your ponytail went down to your throat, over the chain of your necklace. "I think you can tell I did."

You could feel his hand hesitate on your neck, so you squeezed his thigh to assure him it was alright. Within a fraction of a second, the pressure on your throat tightened. If you could look down, you'd see your golden cross gleaming right below the hand he was choking you with. It was too much. You were going to cum and he could feel it.

"You feel incredible," Harry confessed. "I missed you."

You convulsed, a silent scream shaping your mouth as you rode out your orgasm, his three fingers still stuck between your legs. As the aftershocks stopped, you could faintly hear Harry whispering your name, the tenderness in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. But then again, maybe that was the intense orgasm.

“Are you okay?”

His easygoing voice, usually so grating, sounded quite comforting now. You relaxed your thighs, and the sound of his fingers leaving you was just a little louder than the sigh you couldn’t hold back. You mumbled an agreement to his question, and you could feel his smile at the back of your neck as he said, “Just sensitive, then.”

A beat of heavy silence, and then: “Can I touch you?”

He didn’t answer right away, even though you could still feel him hard behind you, and it killed you a little bit inside. You were about to roll away from him, already forming an excuse about cleaning up, when he spoke.

“You don’t have to,” he didn’t sound like he was smiling anymore. You wanted to turn and check, to look into his green eyes and try to find out what he was thinking, but you were scared. If his hesitation meant that you had been vulnerable for him when he couldn’t do the same for you— “I don’t want you to think that's why I apologized."

You rolled your eyes at his chivalry, but were relieved by it all the same.

“Styles,” you said. “I’m trusting you here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you finally rolled on the mattress so you could meet his eye. “Now take off your shorts.”

He smirked as you shoved the comforter off of both of your bodies, taking a second too long to admire the dimly lit outline of his body. “Y’think you’re gonna boss me around now, huh?”

“I think you’re gonna let me, if it gets you off,” you shrug.

Harry opens his mouth to argue, but stays silent once he sees you reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. You throw it to the ground and hope he doesn’t notice your expression as you make a mental note to pick it up later, but that’s obviously unnecessary since he’s staring at your chest, the glinting of the cross between your boobs and your hard nipples monopolizing his attention. His right hand, still messy with your juices, reaches out to touch you, but you lean back and make him watch as you lower your shorts and underwear in one go before kneeling back on the bed.

“So?”

He shook his head, unbelieving, and took one final look at your naked body before meeting your eyes. “You love this, don’t you?”

Harry undressed like you’d done; t-shirt, then shorts, then kneeling back on the bed. You wanted to look down at his cock, see the proof of how much you got to him, but couldn’t leave his gaze. There you both stood on your knees, silently staring at each other’s mere silhouettes. Like the gold of your chain, the pearls on his neck were more visible than the rest of him. “You love talking like we’re at some game you can win,” he clarified, smiling.

“Are you saying you don’t do the same?” skepticism dripped down your words.

“I’m saying you can’t win.”

The way he could go from earnest to cocky in the blink of an eye was sort of giving you whiplash. It did make things interesting, though. He threw whatever he felt like saying your way, apparently without thinking twice; for the second time that night, you surprised yourself by thinking of him as brave.

His clean hand came to touch your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in the most romantic gesture you had witnessed since he’d held your hand all the way back to his place when you were graduating university. Harry called your name like a prayer.

“Can I kiss you?”

It was such a weird question, considering you’d just cum all over his hand. But it felt so fitting, so right. Being attracted to him and having teasing banter were not questionable, that was just how you operated. It had been taken to an extreme, sure, but it wasn’t new. This was new. You nodded anyway.

He met you halfway, his lips tasting yours as your bare bodies touched for the first time in years. You whimpered into each other's mouths, Harry's hands tangled in your hair while you held his face like it could break. You could feel his erection between you, twitching every now and again when your tongue dragged against his, some precum getting on your belly.

"H," you moaned between kisses when one of his hands descended to your chest and teased your nipple.

He stopped kissing you for a second too long, leaving your swollen lips tingling as you waited for him to catch his breath. But he didn't kiss you again, just stood there touching your boob and the back of your neck, eyes going over every inch of your face. You could feel yourself blushing at the attention, already at the brink of an awkward giggle, when he said quietly "You haven't called me that in a while," he cupped your face gently, then planted the ghost of a soft kiss to your lips. "I like it."

You smiled and kissed him again, because you were worried about what you would say if you put that kiss into words. Each feverish movement brought you closer until you were practically on top of him, sitting on his thigh. Harry grabbed your ass, urging you to move; you gasped as he pushed you to grind on his leg, no longer able to keep kissing his lips but definitely working on making a mess of his thigh.

"Love," he whispered in your ear. "I really wanna fuck you. Can we do that?"

The nails digging into his back made Harry let out a breathy laugh. You made a move to touch his dick, but his hand grabbed yours right before you could. "I want you to cum on my thigh first."

"But you—"

You sounded broken, legs burning as you rode his thigh frantically.

"I'll have my way with you, don't worry," he said. "So desperate to get on my dick, aren't you?"

The only sound of outrage you could muster was a low growl as you threw your head back, neck exposed for his teeth as your clit pulsed against the muscle of his leg. Harry kept holding onto you, assisting your every move as his lips worked on your neck. The sharp sting of his teeth followed by his tongue as he tended to the bruises he had just created, his soft curls on the side of your face, a tight grip on your ass and your back.

"Are you going to come for me again so I can fuck that pussy like I've been wanting to?"

Your hips stuttered and you came for the second time, whimpering and refusing to let him go as he gently laid you down on your back, still shaking. Harry tried to get up but you wouldn’t let his shoulders go, and he laughed against your lips as your mouth searched for his.

“Y’know,” you said, voice sounding unnaturally raspy, words practically breathed into his mouth. “You can’t talk like that.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“It’s not fair, H.”

He didn’t argue with that. You felt him reaching between your bodies, hissing a little when he touched himself. “I’ll make it fair,” he told you. “Like it used to be. Okay?”

Maybe you had been made insane by your post-orgasm haze, because that made perfect sense. You nodded, not a bit of hesitation, as he teased your oversensitive clit with the head of his cock.

“Don’t tease, Styles,” you said, and it sounded so much more like your usual self that it brought a sparkle of defiance to Harry’s eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

He arched an eyebrow, smirking, but seemed to give in to your command. “You know me too well.”

Then he fucked into you slowly, and you could feel your cunt gripping his every inch as he bit into your neck again, muffling whatever sounds he felt like making. His pearls hung between you as he thrusted, losing all the control he had seconds ago. Harry was doing it fast and hard, a little out of it, until you caught his necklace between your teeth and he moved his hips with such precision that you held back a scream.

"Like that, huh?"

He grabbed one of your thighs and lifted it just enough to get the same angle everytime he moved into you. Your wetness made a mess of his crotch and the insides of your thighs, your eyes rolled behind your now closed eyelids, you drooled all over his pearls. Harry called your name, desperate, when you pulled his hair with enough strength to leave his scalp sore.

"I can't," he mumbled into your ruined neck, holding your thigh so hard it would be sure to bruise as he used his other arm as leverage to fuck you, fist tight on the comforter. "Sorry, love."

He moved as if he'd pull out, and you held him closer, letting his necklace fall from your lips. "No, H," you said. "It's ok."

His brows furrowed as he hesitated, torn between listening to your words or his own head, that knew better than to cum inside you. Not wearing a condom had been reckless enough, and he wasn’t a stupid kid anymore.

“I’m on the pill,” you told him. A particularly sharp thrust followed your statement, and you turned your face away from him, staring at the arm supporting his body so Harry wouldn’t see the entirely fucked-out look on your face. You kissed his bicep softly, just a drag of your panting lips against his skin. “Just give it to me.”

That was enough for him to cum with a low drawn out groan followed by a quiet whimper of your name, body shaking over your own. Barely any time had passed when he pulled out of you, spilling onto your sheets and your thighs. You shivered, feeling his cum staining your skin as he mumbled nonsense into your throat.

Apparently the nonsense meant he still wasn’t done with you, because Harry started kissing down your side as soon as his legs could move enough to get him up the bed and kneeling on the ground. “Styles,” you said urgently, sitting up. “You don’t—”

“Shut up,” he said against the crook of your hip.

“Don’t be a dick—”

He interrupted you by licking a stripe from your entrance, still dripping in his cum, to your neglected clit. You cried out, too sensitive, as he licked, sucked, and kissed your swollen flesh until he had you coming for a third time, his chin glistening with the mess you made together as your lifeless body fell back on the bed.

Harry stood up, still shaking a little, and pulled the comforter over you before falling onto the bed himself.

“Next time we do this,” he said, breathless, while you were still twitching from your last orgasm, and you found that very presumptuous of him. “I’ll bring over that old t-shirt so you can wear it.”

You turned slowly onto your side so you could face him, letting him see your puzzled expression. Then you remembered what he was talking about. That morning, with you in his kitchen, you had been wearing his but daddy, I love him t-shirt. You laughed, incredulous.

“Want me to call you daddy, H?” you joked.

His cock twitched against your thigh. “Oh my God,” you cried out, cheeks hurting a little because you couldn’t help the widest smile. “I can’t believe you!”

The echo of his laughter followed you to sleep.

Harry woke up to silence and an empty bed. From where you sat at the kitchen counter, you could see him anxiously looking around as if he’d find at any second that you had panicked and left, abandoning him in your own apartment. The moments he spent searching for you made guilt tug at your heart; he knew you could, at any second, decide to pretend last night hadn’t happened.

But the fact that you could didn’t mean that you would do it, so when he finally turned on the bed and met your eyes, you smiled softly.

“Good morning, Styles,” you said. “How do you feel about tea?”

You lifted your own mug in a sort of awkward toast. Harry didn’t seem to mind, though. He just smiled and nodded, hoping that would suffice as an answer.

“Your clothes are in the dresser, but you can just take mine if they’re more comfortable.”

Harry dressed in silence, his cream sweater over your boxer shorts, as you poured his tea. You laid his mug beside your own, watching him. His hair was adorably disheveled, eyes a little swollen with sleep, and his thighs looked just as amazing as last night in your clothes. He also looked very cozy in his sweater, and the realisation that you wanted to hug him didn’t scare you as much as it would have yesterday.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and grabbing his tea from the counter with the other. He looked at you, fresh out of the shower and wearing a cardigan over a sundress, like Markham and your kitchenette had collided to form an outfit. “You look good.”

You shrugged but smiled, a relatively comfortable silence falling over the both of you.

“We should talk—”

“Do you want to—”

Harry put his mug to his lips to let you know you could speak first. You cleared your throat, at a loss for words.

"Last night was nice."

What a poet. Harry smirked, but didn't interrupt you.

"And I—” you took a deep breath, shifting your gaze to his hands so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye. He had very nice hands. "I'm sorry for the past couple years, too. I felt like you were trying to make my life harder just for a laugh, using whatever good thing had happened between us to hurt me. It made a little bitter."

He arched an eyebrow.

"Very bitter."

"And I was very childish," he said. "I was upset that you treated me like a stranger when I got to Markham, and I became a little shit about the whole thing."

"I just—I wanted to make something out of myself here. And then you showed up and I couldn't be that person around you. It drove me mad," you finally looked up at him. "You drive me mad."

Harry carefully put his mug on the counter, then took yours from you and did the same. With warm hands, he held your face while planting the sweetest kiss on your mouth.

"We'll do better," he whispered against your lips. "Won't we?"

"Yeah," you whispered back. "We will."

But first, payback. Harry Styles could fuck you to the moon and back, or whatever it was he'd spent the last weekend doing, but he would not get away with last week's little stunt, or with robbing you of precious room 103. Your beige heels clicked on the creaking floors of the disgusting classroom where you taught on Mondays as you talked your students through next week’s lesson plan. Was it a little beyond your qualifications as someone with a master's on Literature? Yes. Would that stop you? Absolutely not. They seemed excited about the whole ordeal, and that was enough to convince you that you weren't being a bad teacher, exactly. Good teachers were fun, right?

Maybe Harry had been a good teacher all along. Having that nice, kind thought cleared your conscience entirely as you proceeded with your plan.

The teasing between you two wasn’t entirely gone throughout the week, but it did lose most of its mean edge. Calling him a fucking hippie, or whatever was something that could apparently be accomplished in a much more tender tone, the one you also used to say “Fuck off, H,” when he jokingly called you Professor Umbridge. Every day of the week he had driven you home after class, bought dinner that you ate together on your bed, and kissed your neck in very particular spots. Talking to him was surprisingly easy, and you could entertain each other for hours only by telling weird anecdotes both from university and Markham, friends and professors and colleagues and students all becoming the background to the life you had lived together even though you were apart. There was also so much you still had to learn about one another, childhood and teenage years and post-grad, and the time for all of it would eventually come. Now was the time for retribution.

It was the next Monday, and both of your classes had started a few minutes ago. Well, his had. Your students were all standing around the corridor on the first floor, silently waiting in costume for their cue.

The fact that Harry was so soft spoken made it pretty hard for you to pick an appropriately disturbing time to get the plan going, but at some point you could hear a few of his students’ voices. Assuming that meant a discussion was taking place, you nodded towards Richard, your Romeo, and he stepped forward.

Some of the other Drama students followed suit, prop torches in hand as the scene indicated, and together they burst into room 103 as Richard, with the poise of a Shakespearean character, recited loudly: “What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?”

Khalil, head held high, walked in right after and spoke as Benvolio.

As the student playing Mercutio was saying something about gentle Romeo, you walked up the classroom door.

Harry was standing behind his desk, your golden cross shining beneath his pearls; you had put the necklace on him as a joke during your Saturday dinner and he hadn’t taken it off since. His brows were furrowed and his mouth gaping as if he had forgotten to close it, while his students appeared to be mildly amused. Your kids without speaking parts were pacing between rows of desks on their way to a nonexistent ball as Mercutio, standing right before Harry, called to the Romeo at the back of the room.

“You are a lover. Borrow Cupid’s wings and soar with them above a common bound.”

Harry smiled, and the part of you seeking silly revenge took the backseat for the slightest moment. He seemed to get over the initial shock of the disruption and watched them with a delighted curiosity.

“Is love a tender thing?” Richard asked his classmate, but he could’ve been talking to the music professor. “Is it too rough , too rude, too boist’rous, and it pricks like thorn.”

Green eyes searched for you and found you leaning on the wooden door, ankles crossed nonchalantly and a triumphant smile on your face.

“If love be rough with you,” Mercutio told Romeo,”be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.”

But Harry was not watching them anymore as you mouthed “Got you, Styles”, the scene unfolding behind the two of you as you won.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #mine #writing #if love be rough with you #enemies to lovers

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uozlulu · 3 years

Text

Black Clover chapter 305 reaction and spoilers

Langris says, “Ever since he [Yuno] joined the brigade, he’s been insolent and presumptuous, but he had the skills to back it up. Looking back, I may have hated him because we were so similar,” and I think that’s true, but I think there’s another facet to their dynamic that neither of them realize too, which is Yuno comes from a big family and Langris was an only child until suddenly he had a brother who he’s had a dysfunctional relationship with for years. Like when Yuno says, “I knew you [Lagris] could do it [make your own space inside Zenon’s space]. Nicely done!!” It makes sense because in context of Yuno’s childhood, he’s showing encouragement and acknowledgement like he does when fighting alongside Asta. However, from Langris’ perspective, I can see how this would come off as rude and perhaps condescending because Langris didn’t grow up with that kind of home life. It’s nice to see Yuno and Langris resolving their differences. It’s a good way not only to show how Langris has grown since the elf incident but also how Yuno is also growing and changing, because while Yuno does indeed seem to approach his squad like an extension of his own family, he’s also basically a gifted high school junior right now who’s finally learning he can’t get through this AP course without studying for once in his life and so he’s going to have to grow and change from this experience.

What I really like about Yuno and Langris vs. Zenon fight is that it puts Langris in a position to pull off a defensive move, which again illustrates how he’s grown since we first met him. He can’t afford to look down on those around him and he can’t afford to be the aggressor right now either. He has to trust in Yuno’s attack and he has to be willing to sacrifice himself in order to do that.

We of course get this backed up by monologue and dialogue. Langris thinks, ‘My special magic was invincible. If I did my best, that was all it took. As long as I was there, my brigade was the strongest, but your [Yuno's] strength was different. It was if you were spurring us on with that wind, as if we were flying with you. Your strength wasn't self-centered. The way you hated losing inspired everyone and made us stronger.’ Then Langris says aloud, “It's galling, but I'll admit it. You [Yuno] are the vice captain of the Golden Dawn!!!”

Euros is the god of the east wind and fall, which is very fitting for an attack from Yuno since he is a wind mage born in the fall. Euros is also brother to Boreas, who is the god of the north wind and winter, which we saw Yuno have a named attack for several chapters ago. That’s also fitting since Yuno comes from Spade which is far enough north it was snowing in late September/early October.

Yuno points out that Zenon hates losing. It’s going to be interesting to see if this attack finishes Zenon off so the shoe can finally drop or if we need some more of the Golden Dawn or others to get in on the fight.

#liveblog #manga liveblog #black clover manga liveblog #black clover manga spoilers #i'm reading ch 305 #ymmv #black clover

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connordavidscamera · 3 years

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Living, Learning, and Filming Ch.1 | Connor Brashier

A/n: once again I am just here rewriting/revising this series. Not much will change most likely, just some minor editing.

Summary: Y/n and Connor are partners for their final project. Their topic of choice, however, might get them in some trouble.

Warnings: just a little playful banter

Word count:1.8k

***

Week 1

“Brashier, I’m having a girl over tonight so I’m gonna need you to - whoa. What is going on in here? You’re cleaning?” My roommate, Brian questions, stopping in the doorway of my room.

I shrug, “Yeah. It was looking too messy.”

“Too messy,” he repeats.

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay… Who’s the girl?”

“There’s no girl,” I answer, putting the dirty clothes in my hand in the hamper by my closet.

“Well you’re definitely not cleaning for yourself. I’ve seen this room worse than this and it didn’t bother you then.”

“Craigen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. My room was dirty, I wanted to clean it.”

“Because you want a girl in here,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a smirk, coming further into the room. “What class do you have with her?”

I sigh because I know there’s no point in hiding it from him, “She’s in my film class. We’re partners for our final.”

“And you want to fuck her?”

I scoff, “Brian, come on.”

“You do,” he cocks an eyebrow.

“Why does it matter? She’s coming over tomorrow for us to start on our project.”

“Uh huh. And what’s the project?”

I know my face just got a little redder. “Falling in love in college,” I mumble.

He laughs and I don’t mean one of those mocking “haha” types of laughs. I mean, he’s clutching his stomach, almost doubling over, he’s laughing so hard.

“Falling,” he stops himself, still laughing. Dick. “Falling in love? Like with each other? Whose fucked idea was this? Do you know anything about her?”

“That’s what I’m doing with this. I made her a bet that one or both of us will be in love with each other by the end of this project.”

“Ha! By the end?” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “You realize she’s already got you fucked, right? I mean, she’s already got you cleaning for her.” He gestures around the room with his hand as if that’s supposed to prove his point further.

I scoff again, “Whatever. It’s just for fun, Brian.”

“A game?” he questions.

I shrug, “Yeah. A game.”

“And if you do just so happen to fall in love with her? What then?”

“It’s not gonna happen like that.”

“But if it does?” he persists.

“Then I lose.” She’s already made it pretty clear she’s not gonna fall for me.

---

I’m walking out of my ethics class when I catch sight of y/n with some, I’m assuming, friends. They’re just walking out of the cafeteria, she’s laughing, her hand combs gently through the ends of her hair. I won’t deny that she’s pretty. Dangerously, so. I don’t realize that I’m still staring until she catches my gaze and waves, smiling with teeth. I don’t want to be rude, so I wave back and I watch her say something to her friends before making her way over to me.

“Hi,” she says brightly, a much different greeting than I was expecting. Our last encounter, she left the room without a smile on her face, head down, watching her feet as she walked.

“Hi,” I respond, hands in my pockets, trying to bring out my “too cool” persona that I put on in front of other people.

“Are you busy right now?” she asks, her eyes shining bright, popping against the eyeshadow she’s wearing, which compliments the too big, navy blue sweater dress that’s currently swallowing her frame.

“Um… no. What’s up?” I scratch the back of my neck.

“You in the mood to start filming?”

I hum, “I’d love to, but I left my camera at home.”

“I have mine in my dorm, I could start my part.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Come on, it’s nice out. We can go to the coffee shop down the street. I had a few ideas about what I wanted to do, if you’re down.”

“What are these ideas?” I ask as we start to walk toward her dorm, I’m guessing.

“I don’t just want it to be a plain subject with no interaction between the director and subject. If we’re going to do this specific topic, we have to do it a little differently than just saying ‘okay, action.’ We won’t get the best results that way.”

“Okay?”

She’s looking at her shoes again as she walks. “I was thinking about something like an interview process. Just as an introduction. A kind of ‘who are you? Have you ever been in love?’ type thing. Obviously asking questions pertaining to the topic, but also just to get to know the different subjects, and to get them comfortable.”

“I like it. And I think toward the end of the project we could do another one, same questions, hopefully different answers.”

She nods, still not looking up. “Yeah, hopefully.”

“Your shoes are still there, you know?” I joke.

“What?” Finally, her eyes meet mine.

“You watch your feet when you walk.”

“Oh, um… sorry. I didn’t notice.”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s cute. It just makes it hard to look at your eyes when you talk.”

“Well they’re nothing special. You’re not missing anything,” she chuckles.

“They’re pretty,” I tell her and her cheeks heat up.

“Thank you,” she says quietly.

“So, this is the way to your dorm?”

“Yep… do you live on campus?”

“No, my friend, Brian and I share an apartment a few miles from here.”

“Oh, does he go here too?”

“Yeah, he’s a business major.”

“Oh, that’s cool. That’s what I was going to do if this whole photography thing didn’t work out.”

“Why do you think it’s not going to work?”

“Well there’s a lot of film going on recently. It’s competitive, I don’t exactly know how my work is going to fit into the equation, but that’s not stopping me just yet.”

I smile softly at the confession. “Well, I may not have seen your work yet, but I’m pretty sure you’re gonna make it.”

“Ah, says the guy who has already made his big break, traveling the world with Mr. Shawn Mendes himself.”

“You've been reading up on me,” I muse.

“I thought if we were going to be working together, I needed to know who I was going to be spending my time with. Your stuff is really, really good. I can see why he hired you.”

“Oh,” it’s my turn to blush, “well, thank you.”

When we get inside her dorm building she turns to face me, “So, the elevator’s broken. Has been for a couple weeks. They keep saying they’re gonna fix it, but at this point I’m expecting them to be working on it the day we come back from Christmas break. Anyway, are you good with the stairs?”

“Well I don’t really have a choice, do I?” I counter.

“I mean, you could stay down here if you’d like. I’ll just be a minute.”

“No, I was kidding. I’m good taking the stairs.”

“Okay, then follow me,” she says, taking her keys from her bag.

She’s a few steps ahead of me, and if I look up at just the right time I can -

“Looking up my dress isn’t going to get you under it any faster, Brashier.”

My eyes widen and I shake my head, “No. I - I wasn’t.”

“You were,” she looks down at me from her step and smirks. “You’re not very smooth, are you?”

“Up until this very moment, I thought I was.”

She nods, “You might be a smooth talker, but your actions need a little work.”

I chuckle, “If you say so, sweetheart.”

Y/n scrunches up her nose, “Sweetheart,” she continues walking and I follow. “That’s condescending.”

“You’re really gonna make this hard for me, aren’t you?” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Well where’s the fun in me making it easy for you?”

I hum and press my body close against hers, holding gently onto her elbow as she reaches to unlock the door, “How about we save ‘sweetheart’ for the bedroom then? Hmm?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “You’d have to get there first, Connor. And right now? You couldn’t be further away.” She looks back at me and I glance between her eyes and her lips.

“You keep frowning and your face will stay like that.” I run my index finger over her bottom lip and her eyes flutter shut.

But she quickly opens them again, turning away from my burning gaze, “Two and a half months,” she mumbles. “God, help me.” I don’t think she meant for me to hear either of those things, but the proximity of us was currently my friend and I thank god she hasn’t told me to move yet.

---

“Okay,” Y/n fixes the settings on her camera, looking through the lens every few seconds and then back at me. “I think we’re ready.”

“We're just going right in?”

She nods behind the camera, “Yep. And… we’re recording. What’s your full name?”

“My name is Connor David Brashier. I am twenty-one, and a junior here at UCLA.”

“What are your hobbies?”

“I like filming, playing video games, and surfing.”

“What is it about filming that you like the most?”

I push at my bottom lip with my tongue, thinking the question over. “I like capturing the things that would otherwise go unnoticed. Those small things that no one thinks about until after the fact. Like at concerts, people are there and they watch the show, but they don’t see what happens behind the stage, they don’t see how incandescently happy they are to be there. I like giving that back to them. That feeling they had, the feeling the performer and the team had before and after the show.”

She’s smiling behind the camera and I can’t help but blush, looking down at my hands. “Do you see yourself doing this for the rest of your life?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Even if it takes you away from your family?”

I have to think about it for a minute. “It doesn’t take me away from them. They’re always with me, supporting me.”

“I like that answer,” she says, tugging at the bottom of her sweater. “And uh, last couple questions.”

“Alright. Hit me.”

“These questions pertain to the actual topic of our project. Which as you know is the average life of someone falling in love. So your question is: have you ever been in love before?”

I look at her, hiding behind the screen of her camera and I can’t stop myself from smiling fondly. “No. Not yet.”

She nods. “Can you see yourself falling in love with someone?”

I take my time to answer this, because I know my answer, but I don’t want to seem too eager.

“Connor?”

“Sorry,” I clear my throat. “Can you repeat the question?”

“Can you see yourself falling in love with someone?” she asks again.

“Yes,” I answer. “Yeah, I can see myself falling in love with you.”

***

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simonalkenmayer · 4 years

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"What is it people don't grasp about this" would be the part that gives the whole response a rude tone, it comes across as condescending to someone who admitted to you exactly why they were struggling with understanding whether you meant it to or not. Had you left that first line out, I don't think anyone would have read it as rude. I know you have to be smart to think critically and understand that rather than just jumping to defense mode.

I see, so because I express confusion about why my words aren’t working, I am rude.

See here, Biden is ahead, I’ve eaten very well last night. My mood has shifted. So let me ask you a set of critical thinking questions and we will leave it at that.

Do I go to your blogs and tell you how to behave? Do I comment on your posts with helpful hints on how to look in a mirror and hate yourself? Do I spend time policing your behavior on your web pages? Do I tell you to censor your content? Do I send multiple asks to you to try and convince you that you’ve been rude? Do I spend even one second correcting so much as your spelling? Do I go to you and tell you to respond any specific way to any thing? Do I do anything but sit here at the behest of every single person who comes here, asking every question under the sun, sometimes a hundred times, demanding I answer and cater to their particular feelings at all times, with no break on compassion? Do I answer requests for help? Do I give advice when asked while also taking abusive nonsense from a pack of beings younger than my newest pair of shoes?

Humans are skilled at manufacturing meaning that makes all actions righteous, so that those actions can be considered worthwhile. Anonymously defending someone who neither asked for their defense, nor saw fit to claim it, over a single question, through multiple asks? My friend, if I did that do you know the hailstorm of critique that would drop on my head?

Bullshit bingo “defensive” counts for “y u rude” 11/6/20

#bullshit bingo

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tenroseforeverandever · 4 years

Text

Double Blind

Characters: Rose Tyler; Tenth Doctor; Reinette; Adam Mitchell

Tags: AU - human; blind date; fluff; romance; humour

Summary: Rose Tyler has been set up on a blind date with a bloke she’s having a lot of misgivings about, but when he arrives, she finds he isn’t anything like she expected him to be.

Notes: This was written as part of a Classic Trope challenge on the Doctor x Rose Discord group. I got “Blind Date”. The story was actually inspired by one of the cute little stories on my French course on DuoLingo! To my brilliant beta team, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci, my undying gratitude, as always. You got me on the right track more than a few times, and with the amazing @aintfraidanoghosts, you helped me plan out the rough patches. My love to you all!