#and saw they made another post that said something to the effect of

[paarthursass]

.

[heavenbarnes]

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).

Word Count: 5.8k

i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that

Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.

Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.

You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.

You were above average with a good arm and better patience.

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.

Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.

The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.

You always did very well.

So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.

Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.

But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.

Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.

As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.

The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.

Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.

"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"

You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."

How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.

A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."

"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."

Oh, okay then.

You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.

Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.

Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.

You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.

You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.

As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.

"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."

She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.

You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.

Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.

As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.

And you knew he was watching you.

-

The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.

A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.

"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"

You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."

You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.

It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.

It was even easier to believe she was just that good.

As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.

Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?

Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.

Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.

Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

-

The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.

Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.

You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.

Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.

"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."

Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-

The kid's running you ragged.

Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.

But you're sure there are eyes on your back.

Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).

Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.

You know you're about to earn your keep.

By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.

That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.

You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.

The Original Sin.

Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."

He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.

It should've felt condescending. It didn't.

"How did she go out there?"

"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."

He laughed.

Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.

Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"

You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.

"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"

Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.

He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.

"Must've been distracted."

Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.

"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."

And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.

-

And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.

A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.

At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.

That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.

"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."

You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.

Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.

"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.

Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.

"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"

"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.

It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.

It wasn't.

"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."

If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.

As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.

"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."

He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.

With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.

Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.

As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?

"Good girl."

There it was.

Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.

So, you should've moved.

Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.

You should've moved.

But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.

Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.

A simple transactional arrangement.

Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.

Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.

A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.

You figure Art will take what he can get.

And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.

It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.

The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.

Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.

So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.

You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.

-

Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.

Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-

Winning?

He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.

He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.

You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.

Had he always looked this captivating?

He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.

It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.

This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.

Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."

He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."

Naturally.

That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.

Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.

Maybe it was fate.

All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.

Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,

Yet.

One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.

It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.

A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.

However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.

Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.

What a fucking sight.

Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.

You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.

Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.

Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.

"Why am I here?"

She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.

"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."

-

And he had, just like she'd said.

Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.

Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.

You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.

But the showerhead knew all about them.

Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.

How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.

And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.

You loved it.

When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.

Tashi's car was gone.

"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."

At least you didn't scream this time.

You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.

You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.

It never came.

Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.

The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.

This was going to hurt.

From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.

Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.

You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.

He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-

Like he was enjoying himself.

For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.

For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.

Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.

You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.

No hurry, but impending.

Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.

Now this was God's favourite.

"You can't be giving up this easily?"

Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.

Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.

This was more your speed.

The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.

Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.

Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.

You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.

Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.

Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.

Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.

You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.

His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.

With everything he had.

Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.

Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.

You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.

Utterly devotional.

The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.

His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.

Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.

The style was calculated.

Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.

You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.

It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.

You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.

"Tell me this feels good, please."

Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?

You might black out.

"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."

He whined.

A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.

Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.

The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.

He was going for gold.

A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.

You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.

Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).

Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.

A deuce.

His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.

"Uh- I already have."

Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.

Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.

Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.

All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.

He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.

Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.

"I can't lose- you."

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about three years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back.“ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

next.

[hiddenlife-manager]

you should totally write a one shot about ollie bearman x reader celebrating the jeddah gp (smut)

Oliver Bearman x Fem Reader

cw... blowjob, jerking him off, whimpering ollie, slight sub ollie, slight dom reader, best friends, plot, etc...

notepad... WELL I finally finished this there are a lot of errors but oh well. I have been stuck on this for a while so thank god it is done. Amen to me hehe.

You two were sitting on the floor of his room; it was an abnormally big room. He was used to small hotel rooms, yet here you two were eating at a coffee table on the floor since you refused to sit on a chair. His hands rested on his neck as he felt nothing but pure soreness from the race. He acted like it didn’t bother him during his post-interviews; it was clear he was worn down from the race.

“If you are sore, you should lay down on the bed.” You were calmly speaking to him, eating Dajaj Mashwi with manakeesh, as it was what he ordered. It seemed to be his favorite meal here; you were unsure if you were supposed to eat it with manakeesh. "Besides, having to face an average of 4.5 g per turn is difficult on the neck. Saudi Arabia is considered a hard circuit to race in Formula 1. You should rest.”

“I should eat… ugh.” His deep voice stated that he was trying to eat, but it was clear that he struggled to move his body. He was extremely sore; you saw this and crawled to him on all fours. The sight of you crawling toward him made his face suddenly go red. You were breathtaking to him, but he knew it was wrong to think so.

"Here, let me help.” You offered, you brought food to his mouth, and he was left in shock that you were trying to feed him. He took a deep breath and looked at you. “I'm your best friend; this is the least I can do. Consider it a gesture of congratulations.” He couldn’t help but hold a rosiness to his cheek, as you wanted to feed him. He opened his mouth and looked at you. He noticed your breast slightly peeking out of your top, and he gulped with food in his mouth. He suddenly choked and coughed, and you were shocked. “How do you choke so easily?” You handed him a bottle of water while he coughed.

“I d-don’t” He stuttered out and sipped the water. He looked at you and went back to the food. Why was he holding such feelings for you right now? You two should be celebrating his debut, and yet here he was nervous, unable to look you in the eye. “My neck is just sore.”

“Hmm, okay. Are you sure it is just your neck that has you all worked up?” He tried to crawl away from you casually so you wouldn’t notice his awkwardness. As he used his hands to scoot away from you, he realized how much it hurt. 

“Did you hear a knock at the door?” He attempted to distract you from seeing his boner in his pants. You turned your head, and as you did, his hands flew, grabbing onto a pillow and placing it on his lap. You shook your head, sure that you didn’t hear a knock. “I guess my head is playing games with me.” He laughed awkwardly, his hands at the collar of his shirt, pulling it a bit as the pillow continued to sit on his lap. 

"Oh, really, are you okay? Let me check your temperature.” You got closer and leaned toward him with your hand, and his face got redder. “You are red as a tomato.” You state that right as you were about to land your hand on his forehead, he shifted. You fell on top of him. The moment you did, you felt something poking at your ass. 

“Mhm…” You froze, and that was the moment your face got super hot. 

“I am so sorry.” You said you tried to crawl off his lap and managed to pull another moan out of him. You were hot; the sound was so sudden, and you were unaware that you had that effect on him. 

“No, it's my fault.” He tried to hide his red face, and you were hot to the touch. Staring at your best friend, you realized he had some sort of attraction to you. He shifted uncomfortably, and you wanted to help, maybe out of your own disgusting fantasy or maybe to show him it wasn’t wrong.

“I can help.” He suddenly fell back as he was scooting away. He started to stutter. You crawled to him and placed your hands on his jeans. You always told him to wear better pants. “Is it okay if I can?” He was silent for a bit while you froze, waiting for his response, and in a few seconds, he nodded sheepishly, unable to look you in the eye. 

You unzipped his pants, your hands working quick wonders; it was no secret you knew what to do. At the same time, you two were grown adults with significant others. You gulped as you moved his cock to the side of his boxers through the hole. He was hard, and it was very evident. Ollie was trying so hard to hold back small whimpers of pleasure as your cold hands touched his bare cock. 

“Can I?” He nodded quickly, and you began to go up and down his cock, using his pre-cum to slightly get his cock a bit moist. After you went up and down from the base, you gently spit on his cock and smiled up at him. Your mouth got close, and you licked the tip as you heard him moan and slightly shifted away from the pleasure. He was embarrassed but wanted you to continue. 

“You can put it in your mouth.” He whimpered out, and all you did was smile so much as you opened your mouth and let him inside your mouth only a little at a time as you went up and down, inching his cock slowly down your throat. The view left Ollie winded; he thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist, and you were his best friend. 

Slowly but surely, you began to suck at his cock, your tongue swirling around it as you saw and heard him whimpering. Attempting not to put his hands on you. He was unsure what to do with his hands, as he almost had to put them anywhere but you. Sucking him while bobbing your head up and down, you used your free hand and grabbed it, holding it as you continued to pleasure him. He was clearly nervous, and you knew he needed comfort. The feeling in your mouth was becoming too much. 

He began to thrust up into your mouth; doing so, he ended up thrusting into the back of your throat, causing you to gag, and he began to get nervous, but you shook your head and continued to swirl your tongue and go up and down. As you removed yourself from his cock, a pop could be heard, and you let go of his hand, staring up at him. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and pumped him. 

“You can cum on my face, Ollie; I don't mind.” You said it softly, with a smile brighter than the sun staring right at him. He was weak and could barely utter a word, but he wanted so badly to cough. His cock thrust into your hands as they felt so perfect. All he did was hum with a whimpering undertone. You continued to go up and down with your hands, quickening the pace as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. 

“Ah, close, too close." He moaned out, and right when he let the last moan out, a long whimper could be heard, and white strings up and down hit your face and tongue. You didn’t stop pumping his cock; his body tensed while he was cumming. You were smiling and licking at the tip of his cock. 

“Congratulations in Saudi Arabia; a gift to you from me, Ollie.”

[meazalykov]

yapper

barca femeni x reader

part one - part two here

summary: you always had something to say

warnings: angst, online hate

you've always been the one to fill the quiet. 

if the locker room was silent, you’d throw out a joke. sometimes so bad it would have everyone laughing just because of how ridiculous it was. your teammates loved you for it—or at least you thought they did. 

you didn’t want anyone to sit in nervous energy before a big game. you wanted everyone to feel at ease, to smile, to believe they could take on anything since this was literally barcelona– of course the best club in the world could handle anything. 

“why are you so loud?” mapi teased one day after you cracked a pun about her tattoos during a media day. 

you grinned at her. 

“because someone has to keep this team awake. what would you do without me? shit, i don’t know how you survived without me for long.”

“probably enjoy the peace and quiet,” she shot back, but the grin on her face told you otherwise. 

you knew mapi got all the credit for being the talker of the group, but you easily topped her in that department. kika often joked that you had a built-in microphone, always on and ready to broadcast. 

yet, despite all the jokes, you never felt like it was too much. not until recently. 

training sessions at barça were something you relished, even on your worst days. being surrounded by alexia, kika, and esmee—your closest friends on the team—always made it feel less like work. 

alexia was like a big sister, always ready to listen. kika was your partner-in-crime, teasing you relentlessly, but never crossing the line. esmee? she was your rock, her quiet presence balanced your constant energy, grounding you in ways you didn’t think anyone could. 

after a long training session one evening, you found yourself alone on the practice pitch. penalties were your weak spot, and you wanted to fix that. you lined up the ball, took a deep breath, and sent it toward the net. it hit the post.

“what are you doing here so late?” alexia’s voice startled you.

you jumped, clutching your chest dramatically. 

“you scared me! i could’ve died.”

she smirked, arms crossed as she walked closer. 

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“what are you doing here?” you tried to deflect.

“i asked first.”

rolling your eyes, you motioned to the ball. 

“penalties. i suck at them.”

alexia raised a brow. 

“you’re not even one of the main takers.”

“exactly! that’s why i suck! i need to be better in case i ever have to take one, you know what if you frido or ewa are not available?” you rambled, launching into an explanation of all the ways penalties terrified you. 

alexia didn’t interrupt, just watched you with that calm, almost maternal expression she always had. 

“you’re overthinking it,” she finally said, cutting through your spiral. 

“just keep practicing. you’ll be fine.”

her reassurance helped more than you wanted to admit. alexia had that effect on people, like she could carry all your worries on her shoulders and not even flinch. 

a few days later, you stopped by esmee’s apartment, where she was curled up on the couch with her girlfriend, dani. the sight of them together tugged at something in your chest, a reminder of what you used to have with emily. 

“finally over her,” you announced as you plopped down beside them, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on esmee’s lap. 

“who?” danielle asked, clearly out of the loop. 

“emily,” esmee filled in. “her ex.”

“oh, good for you,” danielle said with a smile through her dutch accent. 

“it’s about time, right?”

you laughed, nodding. 

“yeah, it only took me almost a year.”

however, later that week, you saw something that made your chest tighten all over again. scrolling through instagram, you stumbled upon a photo of emily with another girl, their smiles wide and carefree in north london. 

it shouldn’t have mattered. you were over the woman three years your senior. however, it stung in a way you didn’t expect. 

then came the champions league quarterfinal against bayern munich. the mistake was small—a misplaced pass, a missed mark—but pernille made you pay for it with a screamer that tied the game. 

1-1. 

after the game, you did your best to shake it off, smiling for the cameras, joking with alexia and frido. you thought you’d done well hiding your disappointment. 

the internet didn’t let it slide. 

“y/n talks too much. maybe she should focus on her game instead.”

“doesn’t she get tired of hearing her own voice?”

“the team probably wishes she’d shut up for once.”

the comments were harsh, cruel, and loud in your mind. you tried to brush them off, but the words stuck, clinging to you like thorns. 

the next day at training, you were different. quieter. focused. when kika asked if you were okay, you only nodded, too afraid that anything you said might annoy someone. 

“you sure?” she pressed.

you nodded again, forcing a small smile. 

“weird,” she muttered under her breath, walking away. 

alexia and aitana exchanged glances, both noticing the shift. esmee tried to pull you into a conversation during a water break, but you only offered short replies, your usual energy gone. 

that night in the locker room, after everyone else had left, you stayed behind, the weight of it all finally crashing down on you. in the showers, the tears came hard and fast, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep quiet. 

though the locker room echoed, and when you emerged, changed and ready to leave, alexia, kika, esmee, and ellie were waiting for you. 

“we heard you crying,” kika said softly, her eyes full of concern. 

“what’s going on?”

you hesitated, swallowing hard. 

“nothing.”

“don’t lie,” alexia said, her voice gentle but firm. 

“i don’t…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. 

“i don’t want to annoy you guys.”

they all looked at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“annoy us?” esmee asked, incredulous. 

“i talk too much. i saw what people were saying online, and… maybe they’re right.”

“y/n,” alexia started, stepping closer. 

“we love you. all of us. you make this team better, not worse.”

“you think we don’t look forward to hearing your ridiculous jokes every day?” kika added, her tone light but sincere. 

“you’re the reason we laugh half the time.”

“is that mistake against bayern bothering you?” ellie chimed in. “it happens to everyone. it doesn’t define you.”

their words broke through the wall you’d built, and before you knew it, they were pulling you into a group hug. 

“promise us you won’t let those comments get to you again,” alexia said, her hand on your shoulder. 

you nodded, sniffling. 

“i promise.”

“good,” kika said, grinning. 

“now, what were you going to say about the athletic club match?”

and just like that, you found yourself rambling again. they listened, laughing and teasing you like always, reminding you that this was where you belonged. 

part two here

[prettycoolgirl]

young rich & in love

pairing: dbf!logan howlett x f!reader. summary: sunday night football with your dad and logan, who knows what’s gonna happen... a/n: hey, my comeback has arrived!! i haven't posted fanfic on here in sooooooo long but hopefully, this makes up for it, i've had this idea in my head for weeks and finally decided to write it (saveeee me old man logan). please lemme know if i made any errors i hateee proofreading 😭 tyyy <33 also feel free to send me concepts!  warnings: 18+, smut ofc, age gap (reader is in her 20s). implied panty stealing. oral (m receiving). small daddy kink? definitely more warnings… word count: 2.7k 

It was your Father's and Logan's daily Sunday routine of watching football games together yet today was different. You walked past the living room and saw Logan sitting on the couch, with a beer in his hand, eyes focused on the screen as he watched the game. Your dad was in the kitchen getting snacks and a couple of more Coors, leaving the two of you alone in the room. Logan caught you just in time and smiled, his eyes lingering on you. "Hey, why don’t you come and watch the game with us," he said.

 “As much as I would love to hear you and my dad constantly screaming at the TV, I can’t I gotta get ready for my date tonight with Jacob, sorry” you smiled slightly. Quickly Logan's smile faded at the mention of your date. He tried to hide it, but you could still see a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

 "Oh no need to be sorry bubs, and How’s he treating you?" he questioned. 

"He’s been treating me well I guess." you said stating the last part quietly, deep down you knew you weren’t telling the truth, the truth is that he’s been flaking on dates between you too because he “doesn’t feel well”, yet your friends send you photos that same night of his Instagram stories where he’s out partying with friends.

 Logan’s eyebrow raised upon hearing your response. “What do you mean ‘Well I Guess’” He asked. “You don’t sound so sure about that baby” He drank a bit of his beer looking into your eyes. 

 That nickname he used so often with you, always seemed to have an effect on you. For context, You always had a crush on Logan, you thought it would have gone away with it just being a ‘stupid teenage crush’ but no it wasn't. The crush on that man had gotten stronger the older you’ve gotten. You hoped he had some sort of crush on you at all. Some days you would notice all the side glances he would make when you exited the house all dressed up or even when you would kiss Jacob goodbye when he dropped you off at home. 

 “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it Logan.” you tried to reassure him. 

You knew Logan was hard to try to convince him of something. He knew you were keeping something from him, and he was going to get it out of you. 

“I know you too well, Something’s bothering you, You know you can talk to me. I won’t tell your old man.” He put his beer down on the coffee table and turned closer towards you.

“Tell me the truth bubs. Is he not treating you right? You shouldn't be dealing with that baby” he said using that nickname you loved, putting his hand on your thigh rubbing it&keeping eye contact while smirking.

Your heart races at seeing him rubbing his thumb over your thighs. His goddamn smirk too.

“He’s ju-” 

You were interrupted mid-sentence by your dad walking into the room.

Logan moved his hand back to himself, grabbing his beer and clearing his throat. Your dad entered the room, with his snacks laid out on a big plate and another six-pack of beer. "Oh, you gonna watch the game with us? I thought Jacob was taking you out." your dad asked settling down the plate and beers in front of the two men’s seats.  

"Uh no sadly not, I'm still going out with Jacob tonight," you said, a hint of irritation in your voice. "So if you guys don't mind me, I need to go get ready. This hair and makeup is not gonna get done by itself." You shot a glance at Logan, his expression unreadable, before quickly exiting the room. 

As you left the room, you swear you felt Logan's eyes on your back piercing right through you as you walked upstairs toward your bedroom. In your bedroom You fixed up your hair a bit and walked back and forth through your closet trying to pick what you were gonna wear but thoughts of Logan’s hand rubbing your thigh just kept invading your mind. The thought of him just alone made you wet. God the affect that man had on you. No matter how much you try to ignore it, more thoughts of him rushed back in and so did questions. Was he jealous? Why did he look disappointed when you mentioned your boyfriend, Jacob? 

You could not let the thought of your dad’s best friend cross your mind anymore, you had to finish getting ready, either way, Jacob told you yesterday to be ready by 4 and time was approaching. You previously made the plan to get fucked tonight, Jacob had to appreciate what he had. You slipped into your mini skirt that matched perfectly with your shirt—sitting at your vanity, applying your everyday makeup. As you moved on to applying a final coat of lipgloss, you heard your phone buzz. You picked it up and felt your stomach drop as you read the message from “jacob <3” 

 "Gotta raincheck tonight I’m not feeling well again, sorry bb" 

He did it once again for the 4th time, yet this time he promised he wouldn’t cancel still yet he did. Anger filled you, you had spent so much time getting ready, just for him to cancel like always. You’re ready for nothing, no plans, no nothing. You were pissed. You began to type up some utter bullshit “oh okay feel better soon love you<33.” 

He quickly replied by liking the message with a thumbs up. 

 Not even a “Love you too” What the fuck, Fuck him, Fuck this Logan was right you shouldn’t be dealing with this. Enough was enough. You were done with his bullshit. Your plan of at least fucking Jacob one more time was not going to happen at all and you needed to get laid lord knows how long it's been. You decided were gonna get some drinks from downstairs and try to forget about Jacob.

As you walked out of your room and down the stairs, scouraging through your dad’s liquor drawer. You heard the voices of your dad and Logan floating through the air, watching the football game. You suddenly had an idea. If Jacob couldn't appreciate you, maybe it was time to play a game with someone else who might appreciate your presence more.

Discarding the drawer you began to walk into the living room walking past your dad and Logan. You could tell Logan was trying hard not to stare at you with that skirt. “oh, is Jacob here?” your dad said.

“No, we’re not going out anymore. He’s not feeling well so I figured I’d just watch the game with you guys” You smiled knowing damn right it was a lie, sitting directly on the couch near Logan. 

Your dad looked over at you with a mix of surprise and a bit of concern on his face. “Really? Everything alright with Jacob?” He asked. Logan seemed to tense up even more as you sat down right next to him, your legs almost touching his. 

“Yeah, he said he’s just gonna stay in and rest up,” you replied as your dad simply nodded in acknowledgment.

 Meanwhile, Your dad's eyes were glued to the screen, not noticing the tension in the room. As the game continued, you tried to act natural, pretending to be interested in the players' moves while secretly glancing at Logan. He stole a few glances your way, his eyes roaming over your short skirt, before quickly looking away. You could feel his gaze burning into you, and you couldn’t help but secretly enjoy the attention. 

As the first half of the game finished and halftime began, your dad got up and announced, "Well, it's halftime. I'm gonna go use the restroom real quick. I'll be right back." He gave you two a quick smile before heading out of the room.

As soon as your dad left the room, the tension in the air thickened. You were suddenly alone with Logan on the couch, the only sound was the faint commentary from the TV.

From what you could tell you saw Logan fiddling with the remote of the television before he said, "This damn remote won't work. I can't hear anything!" 

"Give me it, lemme try," you offered, pointing to the volume control on the TV box.

Slowly, you bent down to turn up the volume trying to put your skirt down a bit, taking your sweet time. "How's that?" you asked, looking directly at Logan for a response.

He swallowed hard as he caught sight of your ass falling out of your mini skirt. His eyes try to balance between the TV and your exposed skin. "Yeah, uh... yeah, that's better," he mumbled, trying to maintain his composure. Once you sat back on the couch, you casually glanced at him and saw him adjusting his jeans and squirming where he was sitting. You couldn't help but smirk as you looked quickly towards the TV, knowing full well the effect you were having on Logan. Your plan working all accordingly.

Your dad came back from the bathroom and, seeing how uneasy and squirmy Logan was looking, asked him, "Logan, you okay buddy?

"Yeah, I'm good," Logan muttered. 

The game resumed, with the atmosphere was heavy. Both of you were distracted; the game was on, but neither of you watched. Your dad was completely oblivious to the tension you both were building.

Logan kept replaying the image of you bent over, eyes staring right at him. His mind soon began to wander to thoughts about only you. He knew the game wouldn’t be over for a while.

Once 20 minutes had passed, Logan had enough and decided to excuse himself to use the restroom.

”I’ll be back gotta use the restroom,” he said while getting up.

“Are you sure? Man, you're gonna miss the game.” your dad asked Logan.

“yeah, it’s fine.” he quickly replied walking by.

You stayed downstairs with your dad to watch the game. Already getting tired of just watching the game, you decided to go to your room and work on some assignments, using it as an excuse. You bid your dad goodnight and told him you might not come down again that night.

"Alright, kiddo," your dad replied. "Goodnight, and don't stay up too late. Oh, and can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Dad. What is it?" you asked.

"Can you knock on the bathroom door and call out to Logan? He's going to miss out on the rest of the game if he doesn't come out soon," your dad replied concerned.

"Yeah, no problem," you smiled assuring your dad.

You made your way up to the bathroom, your footsteps a bit quicker than usual. You knocked gently on the door, but there was no response. 

"Weird," you muttered under your breath. Feeling a mix of curiosity and growing worry, you turned away from the bathroom and headed toward your room instead.

As you entered, your eyes widened in shock and surprise. There, standing before you, was Logan, going through your underwear drawer.

"You perv," you exclaimed, jokingly lightly smacking his shoulder.

He visibly jumped, caught in the act. His face reddened as he frantically tried to come up with an explanition.

"Shit, look, it's not-" he began, his words stumbling over each other in his act to explain.

You cut him off, "Oh, it's exactly what it looks like, Lo.”

He was too stunned to speak.

You crossed your arms, in annoyance, and said, "So you're the reason my panties have been going missing?"

Logan's eyes widened, his guilt evident. He tried to protest, "No, no, look, you don't understand-"

But you interrupted him again, "But I do. I've seen the way you've looked at me, and those sneaky touches on my thighs... I've seen it all, Logan."

Logan's face flushed with embarrassment, and he quickly closed the drawer. He looked at you, the evidence of his actions clear.

"I... I can explain," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

You raised an eyebrow, giving Logan a skeptical look. "Explain then," you said, leaning against the wall, and crossing your arms.

Frustration and lust appeared on Logan's face as he replied, "You know what, no. You teased me all damn night. I deserve this at least. You were trying to get me killed out there.”

“What teasing are you even talking about?” you acted oblivious.

“You realize what you were doing out there is so wrong. Don't try to act all innocent now.”

“I'm sorry, I don't know what you’re talking about Logan," You started smirking.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about,” Logan growled, his voice low. "You were bending over out there, practically flashing your ass at me. You knew what you were doing, didn’t you? Getting me all hard in front of your old man huh?”

“I was just trying to fix the volume for you.” Still trying to keep the innocent act up.

“Bullshit baby,” he said eying your mini skirt. 

Logan's eyes darkened with desire as he walked closer to you, backing you against the wall. "Don't play dumb. You know exactly the effect you have on me." His voice was low and husky.

"Walking around in these tiny outfits, bending over every chance you get."

As you locked eyes with Logan, your steady gaze holding his, you repeated your question, "And what are you gonna do about it?" You slowly knelt before him, your face now inches away from the button of his jeans. 

Logan's gazed down at you, hand going to caress your chin. He took a step closer to you. "You know what I wanna do, outta teach you a lesson," he said, his voice hoarse with lust.

Within seconds you pulled his pants down, dragging his boxers along with them letting his dick spring freely out. 

"Suck on it." 

Obeying what he said you started coating his cock with your spit. Logan groaned softly as your lips wrapped around his thick shaft, your tongue swirling expertly. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding your head as you bobbed up and down. "Fuck, just like that baby," he breathed, trying to keep his voice low.

“Ah, fuck.” Hearing him moan made you love pleasing Logan with his cock in your mouth. That alone made you soaking wet. 

He grunted as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, your lips stretched wide around his girth gagging a bit, eyes watering. "Shh, careful now," he whispered urgently, glancing at the door. "We can't make too much noise with your dad right downstairs."

Logan's eyes widened in shock and arousal as you carefully moved your mouth off his throbbing erection, your voice breathy as you said "It's too much, Daddy." He shuddered at the forbidden words, his cock twitching with need even as his mind reeled.

His hands shook as he watched you wipe a strand of your spit off your hand, the sight sending a jolt of desire through him. He quickly glanced at the door again before grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

"Fuck, baby, you can't say that out loud. Not ever."

Gripping on your chin tightened as you wrapped your lips around his hot, hard flesh once more. His voice grew strained as he hissed, "Faster, baby… just like that... Oh God, harder...harder... I'm not gonna last... not with you sucking me off like that..."

Logan's words tumbled out in a desperate, breathless rush as you worked his throbbing cock with your mouth. "This is so wrong... but fuck baby, your mouth feels so good... I can't think straight... shit, I'm not gonna last... oh fuck, I'm gonna..."

His voice rose to a hoarse scream as his orgasm crashed over him, his hips bucking wildly as he fucked your mouth without warning. "Fuckk!" he groaned, his cock pulsing violently as he erupted into your mouth, painting your throat with thick ropes of cum.

He panted, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his high.

"Your dad's gonna kill me," he said shakily, his body still trembling from release. He quickly tucked himself back into his pants before pulling you up into his arms.

[dragonmonstermilk]

Roseshroom trap

Hi guys! So, I don't know why, but tumblr deleted my post?! Btw this smut has a resonator!Reader (wuthering wawes inspired) but can be read simply as adventurer!Reader. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Tw: monster fucking, (mention of) tentacles have aphrodisiacs effect, (if you squint) public sex, lots of cum, squirting, gn!reader, gangbang (tentacles), blowjob, (kinda) belly bulge from cum.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧*ੈ✩‧₊˚༘⋆࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The sun was setting; the day went already by by just helping people and taking some chests here and there. You decided to give yourself a break, wanting to see the amazing sunrise. As you sat down in silence, while the orangey ray of the sun made the sky all pinkish, you saw a few meters from you, something glistening, something that seemed like a cave.

Without thinking too much you got up again, the sun guiding you towards your destination. To be safe, you pulled your sword out, making sure that near the entrance there weren't enemies. After checking the situation and seeing that nothing was there, you made your way inside the cave. Luckily, there were a few torches light it up, as well as some sun's rays, as if they were really guiding you towards some mysterious path. Indeed, you found something.

Being always cautious, you approached what seemed to be a puzzle. You were intrigued and as you got closer yoy noticed some sort of cube to move.

'Well, let me try this" you said more to yourself, even because the cave was empty apart from you, or that's what you thought. As you inspect the puzzle to make up the trajectory of the cube, you find the right solution: from top left, to top center, to middle center to middle right, to down right to bottom right, and, yes, that's it! To bottom center! Keeping in mind these directions you solved successfully the puzzle.

"Wasn't that hard!" You spoke to yourself, proud to have solved another puzzle. In reality, this was a very easy one, maybe because you already have experience in this kind of puzzle.

After a few minutes you heard a sound, like something unlocking from deep inside the puzzle. What did you expect wasn't that, not at all. Keeping a safe distance, what stood before you was not a chest but a monster! A mushroom kinda like monster with his head resembling a rose!

Mhh...why didn't I think about it?! Ok, let's keep calm. Maybe there's something after I defeat it. You took a few breaths, gripping steadily your sword. Now you were facing the roseshroom, but the closer you got the more it didn't move an inch.

After making a quick check, you relaxed yourself, thinking that it was innocent and that this challenge didn't really have a reward. As you put your defenses down, two yellow tentacles creeped beneath you, grasping your ankles. The tentacles lifted you, now you are hovering above the head of the roseshroom. You squealed in surprise as your sword fell down, a metallic sound echoing in the cavern.

"Put me down!" screaming, kicking your feet and hands you tried to free yourself but it was impossible, the grip of the two tentacles way too strong for you. Still struggling to find a way to break free, another two tentacles approached your body, one entering your shorts, moving against your hole and teasing it, the other one circling your chest.

Your face flushed red. Your body immobilized both from the tentacles on your hands and legs and because you were embarrassed feeling the wetness in your sensitive spot. "W-WAIT!" you screamed panicked, but the tentacles didn't heard you, or better, they did but your mouth now was forced open by another tentacle. You moaned around it as the one teasing your hole entered inside you. Your body tensed, feeling full from the large girth of the tentacle. As it moved slowly inside you, touching your deepest sensitive spot, the one on your chest circled your sensitive nipples. The one in your mouth matched the peace of the tentacle inside you. Giving it a messy blowjob as saliva was all over the tentacle and running down your mouth.

"P-please.." you muttered with teary eyes, not knowing what was for your pleading. The pleasure spread all throughout your body, sending intense shockwaves. You couldn't believe that tentacles were fucking you! Your body was so warm, you were feeling too hot, as if you had fever. Your nipples were so sensitive that the contrast of the slimy and cool tentacle made you cum, not that stopped the one inside you as the deep in your throat.

"Mhm, ahh, please, I'm gonna cum again if you continue!" you tried talking, but again, your voice sounded more like a whisper for all the deep trust of the tentacle in your mouth. As you moved yourself for more friction, another tentacle entered your wet hole. Your mind was fuzzy, thinking only about cumming and having more pleasure. The two tentacles inside you were even bigger than what you felt before, both of them moving at the same deep and harsh pace as your hole was squeezing them, knowing that you were about to cum.

Moans, gasps and sticky sounds echoed in the cave, not feeling embarassed of your own moans. It was all too good to think about embarassement. The tentacles kept fucking you non stop. What time it was? It were passed only a few minutes or hours? You couldn't say, maybe it was midnight or maybe not. The only thing you were sure about was the more the tentacles fucked your holes the more you wanted.

"Ahhh! Mhhnggg!! I-i'm cumming!" Your body tensed again, releasing your sweet juice, at the same time the tentacles inside you filled you up with their seed, making his way deep deep inside you. As your hole was getting pumped up with cum a belly bump formed. The tentacle in your mouth came too. You swallowed all, and as it removed from your mouth, some cum spurted all over your face and chest, creating more mess than before.

You were breathless, brain completely empty as the roseshroom expanded his head, as if it wanted to make a bit more of room for your body. As soon as you were laid on top of his head your body collapsed. You closed your eyes, recovering from all what happened. The tentacles runned all over your body, as a way to comfort you.

This sure was better than a chest.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧*ੈ✩‧₊˚༘⋆࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

[rationaliity]

dr ratio vs. the genius society | an analysis

this'll also be a comparison between ruan mei and dr. ratio so warning for that one too, just in case.

i saw this post by @chronical-lover

and firstly, i just want to say thank you, especially about mentioning how aeons don't care about humans because youre so right. i wanna expand a little bit on the comparison between his character and the genius' that we've met this far.

ratio ultimately failed to be recognized not because he wasn't smart enough, but because he was too human. he's human first, scientist second. he'll always be human first, he doesn't have it in him to act without emotions no matter how much he wants logic to dictate his every move. his entire character is that he believes every one has a human right to be alive, to learn and to grow. he's there to guide them, not necessarily in the nicest way, but still.

i think contrasting him with ruan mei in the story quest was a perfect idea. when you meet ruan mei, she's kind. she makes the trailblazer feel comfortable, even for just a little bit. she offers companionship, tea, and a conversation. but she does not care about the trailblazer or her creations, something painfully obvious in her actions. when the trailblazer was facing up against ruan mei's failed attempt to make a replica of the emanator of propagation, ruan mei was no where to be found. but you know who was, just in case he had to step in ? veritas ratio. even though both knew that the replica wasn't likely to hurt the trailblazer, ratio was there.

" since you're here, i won't intercede. but should you fail, i will be forced to prevent some avoidable misfortunes "

( i hate this man so much )

but he was there. he witnessed the fight, and once the threat was over, it was time to get going ( his words, not mine ). he was there to witness you fight, and should he had needed to, he would've stepped in to prevent us from any actual danger. however, when we approach ruan mei after the fight, and we look reasonably upset from her, we don't get an actual apology. she says she regrets her actions, but her words aren't actually about putting us in danger. she was upset that her experiment fell short, that she had made another predictable outcome.

" you look.. upset, correct ? i regret my actions. there's no defending what i've done. time and again, my experiments have fallen short, and they've always yielded predictable results. i made a clone but it.. doesn't hold a candle to the emanator. "

she did say that she would be there if the danger proved to be too great, but she was not. veritas, however, was. both of them said that they would step in if needed, but only one of them was actually in a position to do so. only one of them took preventative measures to make sure that you were safe from harm. and that is not the genius ruan mei, no matter what her words say.

ruan mei has a flowery way of speaking. not to say that she necessarily minces her words, she's upfront about a lot of things. but she lures the trailblazer into a false sense of security. she's introspective, and questions her own actions a lot. but she's never apologetic about the way that her actions put other people in danger, just that they don't yield the results she wants.

ratio, however, is curt. we meet him originally as a brooding, mysterious figure. he's mean, he doesn't use a lot of words to get his point across. he says what he means, and he's a fan of effective communication. he doesn't have to worry about himself, he knows who he is and how is actions affect himself and the people around him, and that leads to people assuming that he's egotistical ( which he might be , a little bit. as a treat ) but the reality is that ratio cares more about the people around him that he'll ever let on.

and that's where he fails. that's the fundamental difference between him and those within the genius society. ruan mei, herta, screwllum, and the other geniuses do not care about anything other than results. and yet ratio is kind. he's inherently kind, his actions are all for other people. he's saved a dozen worlds with his inventions. he's a scholar within the intelligentsia guild, and a doctor saving his patient's lives every single day. he wants to guide people from the shadows towards the right answer, he wants to make them use their brains and think.

he does not act without considering other people. he can't be a genius first, and a human second. and that's where he fails to gain nous' recognition. it's not that he's not not intelligent enough to be a genius, it's that even in his pursuit of knowledge, he has not forgone his humanity.

and perhaps, in nous' eyes, that's the difference between the mediocre and the genius. to erase every part of you, your emotions, your empathy, your humanity, in the pursuit of knowledge is what separates a genius from the masses. not having those barriers allows you to really dig deep into subjects that would otherwise be considered taboo or dangerous, because you don't care about how the outcome affects people as long as you can study it. as long as you can get answers out of what you're studying, it doesn't really matter what the test subjects are feeling.

ratio is too human, too caring, to ever be considered a genius in nous' eyes.

[kaciebello]

Dangerous mail

Masterlist Badger express ★ Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!reader (fem) Summary: Mattheo needs to use the Badger post to send threats. There is only one person who can help him.  Warnings: no use of y/n Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1.2k Song: Babydoll - Dominic Fike

 Mattheo vowed to himself never to use the delivery service. That's why his steps were fast and his looks were sharp. When the vow is only in his mind, it is as easy to break as a twig. Trying to find the Hufflepuff Girl turns out to be a rather difficult task. The note was bent, almost burning a hole in his back pocket.

He has already scared a bunch of first-years trying to find the girl, he has searched from the dungeons to the towers and she was nowhere to be found. If he was to guess, the girl was just a few steps faster than him. So when he arrived at the greenhouse where herbology classes are held, he swore angles were upon him when a beam of light shined at the girl.

She was, for some reason, sitting on the top of the highest cabinet. The one where you need to climb to get on top. Now, Matteo has learned not to question the Hufflepuff way of sitting in the most uncomfortable places in the most uncomfortable positions. He once saw her hang upside down from the broom, intentionally. 

He made his way to her, the girl seemed to be dozed and sunbathing in the beam. Her hair was let down but he could still make out the yellow bow in it. He knocked on the cabinets to get the girl's attention. She looked down at him with no other reaction.

“Oi,” He said looking up. She didn't answer him, just waved at him as she swayed her legs back and forth. Mattheo had to step aside otherwise he would have been kicked straight in the face.

“Can you come down?” He asks grabbing her leg, effectively stopping it from swinging. She tried to move it, but his grip was strong.

“And why would I do that?” She argued back, looking down at him she made sure to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Because I wanna talk to you.” He hissed back in truth slytherin fashion. She just looked at him and signaled for him to talk. He just sighed and accepted his fate and the fact that she was not gonna come down from her throne. He assumed that the minute she would have got down, another wild Hufflepuff would have taken her place in seconds.

“I need to use the Badger post.”He says avoiding her eyes. Looking around, making sure nobody hears them.  She raised her eyebrows at him. Not once has one of the boys asked to use her services. Yes, they have received notes and love letters, but not once have they sent something back. Truly playing to the heartbreaker personas. She had a shocked expression on her face for a second before it turned into a wild smile.

“Oh? And who owns the honors to receive a love note from you?”

“It's a treat.”

“Oh,” she pauses. “That makes sense.” She extended her arms to him. For a moment he thought she was asking him to help her down, but he quickly realized that she wanted the note. He reached into his back pocket, pulled it out, and handed it to the girl. She took it from him and immediately opened it.

“Hey!” He yelped and tried to take it away from her, however, she moved it out of his reach.  He murmured something about privacy, she just waved at him again.

“Please, that applies to love notes, not this. I wanna know who you want to kill. Again.” She said and finished reading. Impressed she gave Mattheo a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes at her.

“Well. will you deliver it?” He asks her with urgency. Some people walking by give him weird glances, so he gives them the death glare. She just lifted the note against the sun.

“Ya know I was talking to my friend the other day.” She says now looking at him. He gave her a weird look, not understanding where she was going with this.

“And one of them said my dad is hot. Is your dad hot Mattheo?”

“He's the dark lord.”

“Ahh, is that a no then?”He just shook his head, choosing not to answer the girl. For both of their sakes. 

“Will you please deliver it?” He asks her again. She extended her hand to him and made a motion that could only mean one thing. Mattheo reaches again into his back pocket. Pulling out 5 galleons and dropping them in her palm. The girl thum glazes over them and then places them in her skirt pocket. The note soon followed.

“Please doing business with you.” She says pulling her legs up and starting to sunbathe again. Mattheo huffed in disbelief. 

“I kinda need you to do it now.” He says, nervously stepping from side to side. She signed and looked at him again. She let her feet down and scooched to the edge of the cabinet. Mattheo was watching her. It took him a few seconds to understand she was training to get down.  Looking around trying to calculate how and where to jump. Her eyes landed on him.

“Catch me.” She says. He just signed and extended his hands to catch her. He placed his hands around her waist before she jumped. He helped her down slowly, setting her gently on the floor. She was a little bit too close. He could feel her breath on his face. He was so close he could count the eyelashes on her eyes. Her eyes were sparkling in a way he had never seen before. His eyes shift to her lips for a second before going back to her eyes. One of his arms left her waist, moving to her face and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned in a bit.

“It's extra.” He stopped in his tracks. Pulling away to look at her straight in the face.

“What?”

“Express delivery, it's 2 galleons extra.” She says looking at him with a very serious face. He chuckles and takes a few stapes away from her. Nodding his head he, he reaches for his back poked and pulls out the 2 galleons.  Placing them in her hand. She doesn't move a muscle, looking at him wide-eyed. 

“You are impossible, you know that sunshine?” He asked her. Her nose scrunched before she shrugged her shoulders at him.

“I will get this delivered by tonight.” She says, now back to her happy persona. She waved at him and left. He watched her as she skipped down the hall. Her robe followed her every movement. He was so close and yet so far. Maybe next time she won't slip away from him. And maybe he won't be so against using the delivery service.

Tag list: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff

[venus-haze]

Under My Skin (Black Noir x Reader)

Summary: Just when you think you don’t have a chance with Black Noir, an investor gala gives you a new opportunity to get under his skin.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also the song I’ve Got You Under My Skin. I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten a chance to write for Black Noir! Pre-season 1 where you’re in The Seven. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The piece of paper on the table in front of you was mocking you. Black Noir had already won three out of the four tic-tac-toe matches you were silently engaged in during The Seven’s daily briefing, and with the way things were going, he was poised to win a fifth. With a huff, you drew a hopeless circle and silently slid it back to Noir.

“Nightowl,” Homelander said.

You looked up, bringing your attention to him. 

“Great work on the team-up with Noir the other night.”

Noir slid the paper back to you, his tic-tac-toe win marked with a clean line, but he’d also drawn a smiley face.

You smiled. “Anytime.”

Homelander continued on, and you only half paid attention, your focus increasingly on the man sitting beside you. Even before you joined The Seven, you admired Noir for his stealth and prowess, something you aspired to. Upon your first team-up, it was clear your powers, most effective at night, complimented his incredibly well. Plus, he seemed to like you from the start, which put you in Homelander’s good graces most of the time. 

Absentmindedly, you drew a little heart on the paper, feeling your face heat up when you saw Noir’s head turned toward you. He didn’t acknowledge the drawing, instead beginning a new game of tic-tac-toe. Embarrassment flooded your chest, blood rushing in your ears. You hoped he didn’t think you were being weird.

“Last thing…” Homelander said, reading off the agenda. “Oh yeah, investor gala this weekend.”

“Great, another ass-kissing convention,” Maeve mumbled.

“Can we make sure shrimp cocktail isn’t served this time?” The Deep asked. “I just feel like—“

Homelander’s jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ, do I look like a caterer, Deep? Am I carrying around a silver platter–”

After a few more moments of bickering, Homelander ended the meeting, not without everyone still grumbling under their breath about the gala. No one particularly liked schmoozing over rich assholes, but they made your lucrative paychecks possible, so it was a necessary evil. 

You and Noir hadn’t finished the last round of your game, but when he left, he took the paper with him. 

You sighed. You knew you had it bad for him, but it was tough to gauge his feelings for you when his face was constantly covered by his mask. Even when you blatantly flirted, he seemed unaffected by your advances toward him. Of course you’d fall for this mystery of a man, the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. Your endeavor was starting to feel hopeless.

“So, when are you gonna make a move on Noir?” Homelander asked, walking out of the meeting room with you. “And don’t give me that ‘we just work together’ bullshit. The tension’s so thick I could laser through it.”

“You can laser through anything.”

He rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face. “Look, there’s only so long I can take the two of you making heart-eyes at each other. I mean, get a room.”

“He makes heart-eyes at me?” you asked softly.

“Yes, so do something about it already.”

“Maybe at the gala. Everyone’s there to see you, anyway.”

“That’s true. No one would really notice if you and Noir weren’t there,” he said, before giving you a slightly painful pat on the shoulder. “Well, except me if you’re loud enough.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Thanks, Homelander.”

You never took his comments like that to heart. You knew you weren’t one of the more interesting members of The Seven, especially compared to the likes of Homelander and Maeve. It was a blessing in disguise, as you ended up stuck doing far less schmoozing than they did. Homelander could hide his disdain for whoever Vought wanted him to entertain for the evening, but on more than one occasion, you’d been on the receiving end of his rant about “pandering to the mud people.”

Noir always showed up to these events, despite not interacting with anyone unless it was to get food. Once in a while, you’d watch as someone tried to start a conversation with him, only to be ignored before awkwardly making an excuse to leave. At least he’d give you the time of day, silently letting you people watch with him, acknowledging your observations about the various guests with a nod, or on rare occasions, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly when you’d said something funny. You always felt especially accomplished then.

The night of the gala was only nerve-wracking because you were finally going to be forward with Noir and see where that got you, rather than your tentative approach in the past. 

When you arrived on the floor where the investor gala was being held, you went through all of the necessary introductions as quickly as you could. Across the room, Black Noir was playing the piano, as he tended to do during crowded events. You’d asked him before where he learned to play, and he wrote simply on a cocktail napkin ‘My grandma.’ As much as he trusted you, there were still parts of himself that were guarded, carefully revealing pieces of his past to you, though you could never fully put the whole picture together. In all the years you were a member of The Seven, you weren’t sure you ever would. 

His past didn’t matter to you. You were fond of the man he was, even if he didn’t reveal his whole self to you. Still, you wished you knew more. He didn’t seem to have any family, at least that he was in contact with. Then again, most of your teammates had complicated relationships with your families, yourself included. That one talent of his, however, showed that at one point there was someone he was close to, that he had a life outside of being a member of The Seven. You hoped the two of you could have that together.

Finally able to slip away from the people whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember, you made your way over to Noir. He looked up from the piano, tilting his head a bit in acknowledgement of you.

“This party’s so boring.” You made a point to lean against the piano, letting the spandex of your suit highlight your body. “I mean, I can think of much better things you and me could be doing with our time.”

You weren’t sure if he was nodding along with your sentiment or the music. Ever so frustratingly difficult to read. Taking his response in stride, you sat down next to him on the piano bench. He didn’t stop playing, but he didn’t move away from you either. 

“Will you show me how to play?” you asked.

He paused, the soft music stopping momentarily. With a nod, he shifted closer to you, placing his gloved hands over yours. You let him guide you, though your gaze was on him rather than the keys. 

“You’re great with your hands, Noir,” you said. “I mean, playing piano, fighting criminals, I’m sure there’s more you can do, if you ever wanna show me sometime.”

No reaction. Maybe it was useless. Maybe Homelander was just messing with you. Maybe—

He rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. It was something, finally some indication that he returned your affection. 

“You wanna get out of here?” you asked softly. “I only came for you, anyway.”

He took your hand in his, the music from the piano ceasing abruptly again. He brought his pointer finger to his mouth, and you giggled despite his silent instruction to be quiet. 

Glancing around, you noticed everyone else was preoccupied, mainly with competing for Homelander’s attention, as usual. The perfect opportunity for the two of you to slip away from the party with ease. Stealth was his speciality after all. 

You let him lead you away from the gala and to an empty balcony on another floor of the tower. The city seemed to sparkle especially bright that night. Feeling bold, you rested your head on his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his.

“I wish we could be like this more often,” you whispered. “You’re the only person I like spending so much time with. I think of you, and I—it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted you to know.”

After a few minutes of silence, Noir moved away from you, reaching for something in his pocket. A folded piece of paper, the same one the two of you had been playing tic-tac-toe on just a few days earlier. He handed it to you, and you scanned the page before landing on the heart you’d drawn, finding he’d drawn another one around it.

“This is so high school,” you laughed, nevertheless taking his covered face in your hands and kissing him. “So, what do we do now, loverboy?”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you could’ve sworn you heard him sigh contentedly.

[cottonlemonade]

Dracula And His Damsel

word count: 1135 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kyotani x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with a pinch of spice

warnings: mdni, suggestive

request: watching Nightmare Before Christmas with pumpkin-spice, dressed as a tomato with Kyotani || fluffy-spicy, Halloween costume shopping with boyfriend Kyotani

Only through the power of undying love was Kyotani able to cross the threshold of the costume parlor. After weeks of hints decreasing in subtlety by the day, had he agreed to a couple’s costume for this year’s Halloween party under the condition that it would be nothing too out there or embarrassing. Even though, in all honesty, you could have asked him to wear a dress and he would have, just to see you smile.

“How about this one?”, you asked, holding up a picture of the Barbie movie on your phone, “You’re halfway there already. You’re hot, blond and your name is Kentaro.”

You giggled at your own joke and it turned into a full laugh when you saw his unimpressed expression.

“Let’s make this quick, alright?”

“Ah ah ah, good things take time, babe. Now, what are you in the mood for? Something dangerous? Creepy? Funny? Sexy?” With each new word, you pulled a different costume from the rack.

Your boyfriend raised a brow at the last piece. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“The Phantom of the Opera. A classic…”, you sighed dreamily, “And pretty simple. I just need a fancy ball gown for my part. Wanna try it on?”

“I’m good.”, he replied, disinterested, “Let’s get that one and leave.”

You hit him with the big doe eyes - a trick that had yet to fail its effect.

“But I wanna see how it looks beforehand. Please~?”

Today was no different.

“Fine…” Snatching the cloak and mask from you, he let you usher him to the spacious changing rooms - no wonder they were so big, considering some costumes were made to be worn by two people.

Five minutes later you brushed the curtain to the side to inspect. Kyotani flinched, needlessly trying to cover himself even though he was fully dressed.

“Ya can’t just come in here, ya know?”

“Says who?”, you replied and began brushing along the cloak and fixing his collar, “You look so handsome… even more so than usual.”

It was no use pretending that he didn’t love your praise. Years of pathetically crushing on you, followed now by months of clumsily being a boyfriend for the very first time had taught him that when it came to you, anything was his weakness. And your warm hands running over his chest, combined with sweet talk ensured he would stay in this dressing room until closing time if you told him to.

Reaching out of the curtain for a moment, you produced another hanger with a - to him - absolutely identical costume you found.

“If the phantom isn’t it, how about we go with another classic? Draculaaaa~”

“And who would you be?”

“Well…”, you said, tapping your finger thoughtfully on your chin, “I could either be some woman you seduce ooor maybe a vampire huntress?”

He hated how that idea made him blush and he was even more embarrassed when you noticed.

“Oh? You like the idea? Well, say no more! Imma grab a dress.” And with that, you wooshed out of the changing room.

A little while later, while he was tying the black and red cape, you slipped back through his curtain.

“Could you please help me with the corset, baby?”

“The c-…”

You would 100% be the death of him. It was only a matter of time.

Part of the reason he fell for you in the first place was that you were the exact opposite of him, bright and friendly, definitely something people would call approachable. And where he was considered lean and lanky, you were soft and rounded. This had led to many many afternoons of him bringing you home after a date and not being able to stop when you kissed him Goodnight because the feeling of your warm chub between his cold fingers was more addictive than anything he’d ever experienced.

“Babe?”, you asked when he could only stare.

“Hm?”

“The corset?”

“Right.”

You smiled and turned your back to him expectantly.

He examined the laces.

“Uhm… what… what do I do?”

“It’s kinda like putting on shoes, just tighten it a little. Not too much though, I like to breathe.”

The knowledge that he could hurt you in this situation if he did something wrong, made him hesitate but with a bit more encouragement (praise) he finished the job in no time.

“What do you think?”

You tilted your head a little, meeting his eyes in the large mirror.

“Pretty.”, he said, clearing his throat. His eyes had dropped down and landed on your breasts, plump and on display with the corset.

Obviously, you caught him looking. “Yeah?”, you teased, “Let’s take a picture. I wanna try something.”

You turned to the side, leaning your back against the wall, and pulled out your phone.

He stood there, waiting for instructions.

“Come here and pretend to bite my neck.”

And there was that stupid blush again. He stepped closer and opened his mouth as wide as he could, hovering over that sensitive bit of skin that usually made you so… noisy when you were alone. The camera clicked and he straightened, waiting for your verdict.

“Hm.”, you said, “It doesn’t look quite right.” You turned the screen so he could see. He looked very very stiff but that was his default in any pictures to be fair. He only had two modes. Stiff or glaring - already a huge upgrade from his high school days.

“Maybe this time try putting your hand here - yes, like that, the other there - perfect - and when you lean in, maybe just kiss my neck but with a bit more teeth.”

A truly terrible idea as he came to realize soon enough. The smell of your perfume and feeling of your warmth had him entranced and he could only vaguely hear you taking one picture after another.

You didn’t tell him to stop.

Only a small eternity later did he hear you gasp his name.

He moved in even closer, pressing his body against you, and automatically slotted his leg between yours.

His sharp incisors raked over your skin, making you shudder in his arms.

You brought your hands up to rest on his shoulders, steadying yourself as he continued to kiss, touch, and grind.

A large calloused hand came up to your breasts but with the corset, it was impossible to grab. He focused on his thigh pushing up to your core, groaning with frustration at that piece of impenetrable fabric keeping him from feeling heaven.

“Excuse me? Sir? Miss? What are you doing?”, the voice of the store clerk rang through the curtain and burst the hot bubble you were in.

“We’re almost out.”, you replied, decidedly croaky sounding.

Suddenly glad for the robes hiding his otherwise very prominent problem, Kyotani panted quietly, “We should get these ones.”

art: @_geolatte on Twitter

a/n: request for @rosetakemi

Thank you very much for your request! Ngl I thought I would struggle a whole lot more writing for him but it was actually really fun! I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

That concludes the Halloween event. Thank you so so much to everyone who participated, liked, commented, and reblogged. While the event was going on I surpassed 1000 followers and I can’t wrap my head around that. That’s so many of you!!! The next event will be a much simpler one that I had planned since… like May, but always kept pushing back because I thought of other things xD

[bluemoonscape]

Hear me out: Sua and Luka parallels.

In Ruler of My Heart, they're most directly compared and contrasted in this frame including both the real world and Mizi's perception. Here, they both look angelic, something other than human, greater than human due to their purity. They're framed by the moon, something only to be seen when shined on by another.

Both are treated in a manner that strikes the viewer as distinctly different from the other kids. They're all treated as less than human in different ways, but Sua and Luka are the ones specifically treated as dolls. Dolls to be played with, dolls to be moved limb by limb and joint by joint as its superior wishes. They're made to look perfect. They're made to look clean, so clean they look inhuman.

They're perfect narrative foils. Nigeh owns several pet humans who all have the same black hair, white bonnets and fluffy shirts. All girls, all a carbon copy of one another. Perhaps they're sisters, even? And if they're all sisters, there's no possible way they could have been born naturally.

This connects to the widely accepted theory of Luka being made in a lab, artificially rather than organically. They were quite possibly both born unnaturally and were raised to be just as unnatural. Both of them seem rather blank in Anakt Garden. Luka is very solemn and unanimated; the most alive he ever looks in Anakt Garden is at the scene of Hyunwoo's death after Luka presumably killed him. He may exist, but he is not alive. In a metaphorical sense, Luka's life is taken from him every day. His heart is literally under Heperu's constant control, to be stopped and started at will. He is a blank slate for Heperu to use for his own glory. The main change we see in him from his years in Anakt Garden to his time in Alien Stage is how he presents himself. In Anakt Garden, he's fairly meek and stoic. In Alien Stage, he's projecting the idol image the world wants to see from him, the one Heperu has conditioned him to display with nothing short of perfection. He is no more alive in Alien Stage than Anakt Garden simply because he's putting on an act. If anything, this lack of authenticity further deadens him.

Sua, though? Despite Sua's upbringing, she is alive when she and Mizi My Clematis together. She's quite possibly more alive than she's ever been. Just like Luka, she's been dressed in white, made to look like a doll, a blank slate, and yet she is anything but, and she proves it by quietly sacrificing herself for Mizi and (as another post put it) an insurance on Mizi's love. Sua could've ended up exactly like Luka. She could have been made to be the villain, the face of Alien Stage, the lifeless marionette. She could have been Luka, but she isn't. Why?

This scene. This scene is why.

I always took the pink tendrils reaching through the glass between them as a metaphor for Mizi's life and love pouring into Sua, putting life into her. Mizi is so vibrant, so alive, and she loves Sua, of all people. Lifeless, blank Sua, or so she thought. But Mizi saw the life in her. She saw her and she saw someone worth loving. Worth worshiping.

Sua was made alive the moment she saw Mizi. This is the moment her life began.

But then, why couldn't Hyuna's effect on Luka breathe life into him, too? Why couldn't Luka's arc diverge due to this love like Sua?

The thing is, Hyuna did make him feel alive. Just like Mizi, she was so full of life that it was impossible for him not to feel even a hint of something in her presence. Maybe she made him feel real, just for once in his life. Just for once.

But he warped Hyuna's love into something it wasn't.

He warped her love into something Hyuna had no intention of giving to anyone: Her life. Just once had to last, so he tried his hardest to hold onto her with a tight fist. When Hyunwoo threatened to come between Hyuna and Luka and take her life away from Luka, Luka, in some way, shape, or form, dealt with the threat. As I said, the most alive he ever looked in Anakt Garden was in the aftermath of Hyunwoo's death, and I believe this is because he thought he'd secured Hyuna's life for himself. Now my life is yours, and your life is mine.

It could've happened to Sua too, under different circumstances. Mizisua could've been just as twisted and toxic as Hyuluka. She could've fallen into the same mindset as Luka: Your life is mine.

She didn't. Instead, she had the awareness that Mizi wanted to give Sua her life, and she said no. With her death, she put Mizi's life back in her hands where it belonged and made her, as much as Mizi fought against it, live for herself. The difference in the way Sua sings Ruler of My Heart in her cover really highlights this. Opposite to Luka's cool, condescending control over the lyrics and the subject of the song, every word Sua sings is from her heart. Mizi is the ruler of her heart, and she does want to give everything to her out of pure, unconditional love.

Sua's love saved her. It elevated her not to something inhuman and unnatural (untouched by feeling) but to humanity.

Luka's love took whatever humanity he had left of him.

Sua is the moon under the sun's glow, and Luka is left in the dark.

[https-milo]

Family Man

Summary: Dabi meets the love of his life and leaves the LoV to care for her and their new baby

m. list / inspired by this post of mine B)

TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF • no one is dead >:( • OOC Dabi, sue me!

Being a parent was always something I dreamed about. When I was little, I used to imagine meeting the man of my dreams and starting a family with him as soon as possible. But with every failed relationship I seemed to have, my hopes that would happen diminished. I was walking home from the hospital I work at when I stumbled across a man with a long black coat and a scarred face. He had black hair and piercings and it looked like his scars had staples where they met the non-scarred skin. He was hunched over and clutching his stomach. I wearily approached him.

"Are you okay?" I asked hesitantly. The sound of my voice made his head shoot up, he looked my straight in my eyes. My [eye color] eyes met his icy blue ones.

"Obviously not," He replied through gritted teeth.

"I can help you, the hospital isn't too far-" he cut me off.

"I can't go to the hospital," He said.

"Why not?" I asked

"Just help me out and maybe I'll tell you afterward," He answered. I nodded and walked over to him.

"Here, I can help you walk. I'll take you to my house, it's not that far from here," I said with a smile. The man rolled his eyes at me and supported himself using my shoulder. We stumbled up a few blocks to my apartment building. It was a cheap place and looked run down, but the quality wasn't horrible. I couldn't complain.

"What happened?" I asked. We were now in my apartment and I had the stranger sitting on one of my kitchen chairs.

"I got stabbed. The fucker got me good too," the man replied.

"Can you uh... Take your shirt off?" I asked. The man smirked a bit at my awkwardness.

"Sure," He replied. He took off his jacket and shirt tauntingly slow. He never gave up eye contact either. He was well built and muscular. He had scars on his stomach that matched his face. A weird part of me found it attractive. But I quickly shook that thought and began working. I looked at the wound and my quirk told me everything I need to know.

My quirk was basically an X-ray without all the machines, and it gave me a description of the wound with what caused it. "You're lucky, if you were stabbed one inch to the right, it would've hit your intestines," I explained.

"How do you know? You haven't even touched me," he asked.

I hummed, "My quirk. Wasn't fit to be a pro, so I became a doctor." I walked away to grab a needle and thread to stitch him. "What's your deal? Are you in a gang or something?"

He hesitated, "You could say that."

I nodded, "Ah ok. At least you weren't some random civilian that got stabbed then."

"What? You think I deserved to be stabbed?" He asked.

"That's not what I meant. No one 'deserves' to be stabbed. I'm just saying crime has been on the rise and I'd hate it if someone defenseless got stabbed. But since you're in a sorta-gang or whatever, then you can handle yourself," I explained.

He scoffed, "Whatever. I kill people, you know. I could kill you right now."

I shrugged, "Doesn't matter. My job is helping the sick and injured, not persecuting them. And done. There, all stitched up and not bleeding."

"What already?" He asked. "I didn't even feel you start."

"Just another part of my quirk. When someone who's hurt talks to me, it gives the same effect painkillers would. Pretty nifty, huh?" I explained. "I'm Y/N by the way. If you're ever injured again, you can stop by. I usually get off work around 10 PM and go in at 8 AM."

"Dabi. I'll keep you to that offer," He simply said before putting his clothes back on and leaving.

"Take care, be safe," I said as I closed the door.

The second time I saw him it was midnight and there were loud knocks at my door. Hurriedly, I rushed to the door and opened it. Dabi was there with a teenage girl in his arms. "I didn't know where else to go," he said. "Please."

"Don't just stand there! Put her on the counter!" I instructed. I pushed everything that was on my counter to the floor to make room for the girl. Dabi gently placed her down and I scanned her body. She had 2 stab wounds on her lower stomach and large lacerations on her arms and legs. "Who did this? What happened? Try waking her up, I need her to speak to me so she doesn't feel any pain."

"We were trying to get more recruits for our group. Apparently we messed with the wrong gang. They went crazy and started attacking us," Dabi explained. He tapped the girls face and gently woke her up.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"Hi, I'm Y/n and I'm going to help you out, okay? Can you tell me about yourself?" I was cleaning the cuts on her arm first. I couldn't start stitching the stab wounds until she was awake and speaking to me.

"My name is Himiko Toga. It's nice to meet you," she answered. I wrapped her arm with bandages and moved to her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. How old are you?" I asked. She was starting to get more awake and that's all I needed.

"I'm 16, how old are you?"

"I'm 22, do you feel any pain?"

She looked at her bloodied badge wildly, "No-no but I'm sure I should? I'm bleeding!"

"Don't worry, it's just my quirk. You're gonna be okay. Dabi, can you dress this real quick? I want to stitch her quickly before she loses too much blood," I asked.

Dabi nodded and grabbed the bandages from my hand. He wrapped her leg wounds as I started to stitch the first stab wound on her stomach. "I need you to keep talking to me, okay? It can be anything, just keep talking," I said. Himiko nodded.

"Well I saw this really cute kitten! It was adorable! It was so small. It was gray with brown spots! I'm gushing just thinking about it! While me and patchwork were on our mission, one of the gang members looked soooo cute! Her hair was really pretty. Almost as pretty as yours! You're really pretty, by the way. I bet you'd look even cuter if you bled a little!~"

"Done! And thank you for the compliments, but I'm not really a big fan of bleeding. Would you like a change of clothes? I can grab something of mine real quick," I offered. Himiko nodded and sat up. I left the room and went to my closet. I tried taking her clothes into account for what she'd like. I settled for a white skirt and pink cardigan with a white undershirt. Just as I was about to walk back into my kitchen, I heard the two talking.

"She's super pretty, and nice! You should totallyyy try getting with her~," Himiko said.

Dabi scoffed, "As if she'd like someone like me. Incase you forgot, we kill people for a living. She saves them. As pretty and nice as she is, no one can look past that fact."

"Ooo so you totally would if the circumstances were different!!"

Dabi shrugged, "Who wouldn't?"

I walk over to them and hand Himiko the clothes. "Here you go, hon. You can go change in my bathroom, it's the first door down the hallway." Himiko nodded and walked to my bathroom to change. I turned to face Dabi. "You okay? Any wounds?"

He shrugged, "None that are too deep."

"I can dress them if you want. I'd rather they didn't get infected," I said. He rolled his eyes but didn't stop me from pushing him into a chair. He had some scratches on his face I hadn't noticed before, along with surface-level gashes on his arm.

"Why do you even care?" He asked. I was cleaning the blood from his cheek. Our faces were only centimeters apart. I looked into his eyes and blushed wildly.

"Everyone deserves to have someone who cares. I'm here to take care of you whenever you need me," I replied kindly. He scoffed.

"I don't deserve this," He said.

"Why not?"

He hesitated, feelings were something he obviously wasn't good with. "You're too nice. And I'm... me."

"I'm not 'too nice'," I replied. "I just... do what I can. Everyone deserves someone in their corner. And, even if I don't support what you do, I'm here for you and whoever else needs my help."

I was done bandaging him and Himiko came out of the bathroom. "I'm ready! Do I look cute?~"

"The cutest girl in the whole world," I replied happily.

"Thank you!" Himiko replied. She jumped into my arms and squeezed me. "Can I have your number? I need more girls in my life."

"Sure, do you have your phone?" I asked.

"Yep! Right here!" She pulled her phone out and handed it to me. I put my contact in and handed it back.

"Feel free to come over whenever. You don't need to be injured to hang out," I said to Himiko. I turned to Dabi, "That goes to you too."

He scoffed, "Yeah, whatever. C'mon, crazy."

He and Himiko left my house. "Take care, be safe," I said to them as I closed the door.

I was walking to my apartment when I saw Dabi standing outside my door. It had been 2 months since we first met. In those two months, he was consistently coming over. I noticed with each time he was less hurt. "Dabi? What's up? You okay?" I doted. I scanned over his body and saw no injuries.

He sighed, "I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm just... I don't know. I can leave if you want."

"What? No, of course not. Come in," I replied. I unlocked my door and let him in. "I was just about to make some dinner."

"What're you gonna make?" He asked.

I rubbed my neck sheepishly, "I was going to make some ramen. Sorry, if I knew you were coming, I would've prepared something."

He just shrugged, "You work long shifts, I don't mind. As long as I'm with you."

I flushed. "You don't mean that."

"Why wouldn't I?" Dabi asked. "You... you're good to be around. I don't know... You... You're safe."

I smiled brightly, "Well, I enjoy being around you too." I finished our ramen bowls and brought them to the living room. I placed the two bowls on the coffee table. I sat down and Dabi sat beside me. Even though the couch was medium-sized and there was way more room, we were shoulder to shoulder. I handed him the remote. "Put on whatever you want."

He nodded and put on a random horror movie. "So, what'd you do today?" He asked.

"Hmm. Well, I went home early because we were double-staffed so they sent me home. Which is so stupid? Like I literally have the x-ray and painkillers built into me. And, get this, my replacement was some girl whose quirk is growing hair. Not to quirk shame, but c'mon!" I complained. "I'm not too shocked though, my manager hates me. We used to have a fling but I broke up with him because he cheated on me. And he's not over me?! Ugh, boys are so stupid. No offense."

Dabi hummed in acknowledgment, "Sounds rough."

I sighed, "Yeah. But it's ok. You're here now. What did you do today?"

"Normal league things. I got into an argument with our leader. I couldn't stand being with him. I wasn't sure where else to go, so I came here," Dabi explained.

"You're always welcome here, you know," I said.

He hesitated. "Yeah. I know."

I don't remember falling asleep, but I woke up with my head on Dabi's shoulder and his head on mine. I blushed wildly. I lightly pushed him off of me and let him lay down fully on the couch. I grabbed a blanket and draped it over him. It was 7 am and I had to work in an hour, so I decided to make a small breakfast. I got instant pancake mix and made a couple pancakes for Dabi when he woke up. I made a few extra on a separate plate for Himiko if he saw her today. I wrote a note for him.

We fell asleep watching the movie last night whoops :,) I made you some pancakes and there should be a few extra for Himiko if you see her today (but if youre extra hungry, feel free to eat them all!! I didn't tell her about them ;) ) visit me again sometime? I enjoyed your company <3

- Y/N

Dabi has been visiting me everyday for the past two weeks. He always came around 11 PM and stayed until 2 AM. Usually, though, we'd fall asleep on the couch. It was weirdly domestic. Whenever I heard his knock at my door, a feeling of unbeatable happiness overcame me. When he walked in, it felt different. I wasn't sure how or why, but something wasn't right.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I did a scan and he had no injuries, which made me even more confused.

"My boss wants to know who I keep sneaking off to see," Dabi said. He rubbed his neck. "He wants to meet you. Everyone does."

"Oh, ok. That's fine. Um they're not gonna like... Hurt me right?"

Dabi's eyes widened. "No. And if they try anything, I have you."

I sighed, "Okay. So like... Right now... Orrrrrr?"

He nodded, "Right now preferably."

"Ok, let me just change out of my pajamas," I said. He nodded and sat on my couch. He made himself at home as he always did. I put on sweatpants and a T-shirt. It wasn't too cold outside so I wasn't worried. I put on my sneakers and walked over to Dabi. "Ready?" He nodded and we left my apartment.

It was a 10 minute walk to his base. In that time he was growing more and more anxious. We were just outside the entrance when I stopped him. "Are you okay? Like seriously, what's up?" I placed my hands on his arms to stop him from moving.

"It's nothing. It's stupid," He said.

"it's not stupid if it's affecting you," I replied.

He sighed. "It's just... God this is pathetic... I just don't want you to like them more... than... you... like... me..." He hesitated on his words as he went on.

I giggled but hid it behind one of my hands. "You're jealous! That's so cute."

He scoffed, "Yeah, yeah. Adorable." He refused to meet my eyes. But I grabbed his face and gently tilted it down to look at me.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not gonna leave you," I said. His eyes lightened and he sighed.

"Whatever. Let's just meet them," He replied. I nodded and he grabbed my hand to lead me inside. Immediately, Himiko jumped in my arms.

"Y/n-channnn!~" She cheered as she spun us around.

"Himi-chan!" I greeted back. "How are you?"

"I'm good! Did you get the cat picture I sent you?" She asked.

"Yes! He was so cute! Did you see the makeup look I sent you?"

"Yesss!! You looked so cute! I loved the red, it almost looked like blood!~"

"I knew you'd like it! That's why I did it!" I giggled. The two of us were holding hands and excitedly talking. Unbeknownst to me, Dabi was talking with a guy with light blue hair; their boss.

"This is the girl you've been meeting?" He asked.

"Yeah. She's something, isn't she?" He had a faint, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. Shigaraki cleared his throat and I turned my attention to him. I forgot about everyone else I was meeting, I was just really happy to see Himiko.

"I'm so sorry! It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Y/n L/n," I introduced. I extended a hand out to their boss, but Dabi pushed it down. I spared him a confused glance before looking back at the boss.

"Shigaraki. Dabi has told us a lot about you," He said.

"All good things, I hope?" I joked lightly. Shigaraki just hummed. I turned to the rest of the League. They were all in their villain outfits. One of them had a full body suit on with the mask being half grey and half black. One of them wore a full suit; the button-up was orange-red and he had a top hat with a mask on. Another was a lizard with purple hair and a red torn up scarf, something that obviously drew inspiration from Stain: The Hero Killer. And the final man was... made of gas? He was purple and black and sort of looked like a weird cloud.

"it's nice to meet you guys as well," I said with a wave. The man in the body suit approached me, and looked me up and down before jumping excitedly.

"Oh it's gonna be so fun to have someone new around!" He said. Then his personality completely shifted. "No it won't. Yes it will. No. Yes."

I just kinda stared at him awkwardly. I looked to Dabi for some help and he pulled me away from him. "That's Twice," he introduced. "He's a little crazy." I nodded.

"No problem! I was just a little concerned," I replied. The lizard man grabbed my attention.

"I'm Spinner. Hey, do you happen to know who the Hero Killer is?"

"I know of him, yeah," I shrugged.

"Do you agree with him?" Spinner asked.

"Well, I think there are a lot of fake heroes but like I don't think anyone deserves to die. I see a lot of people close to death with my job, and each time it doesn't get any easier," I answered.

"You do know who you're talking to right?" The top hat wearing one asked.

"Yeah, you know we kill people, right?" Shigaraki asked.

"Yeah I know. I don't support it. But, my job isn't persecuting criminals; it's helping people. So, even if I could never do what you guys do, I don't hate you or think lowly of you," I explained.

Shigaraki approached me, he placed four fingers on my shoulder and Dabi tensed. "What are you doing?" He asked.

Shigaraki smirked, "What makes you trust us? We could kill you right now."

I showed no fear. I looked him in his eyes. His red ones met my own. "I don't trust you. Nothing is stopping you from killing me. But... I don't think Dabi would walk me into a situation he knew I wouldn't leave from. I trust him and Himiko."

Shigaraki scoffed, his grip on my shoulder tightened. His index finger, which he was keeping off my shoulder, was inching closer and closer slowly. It was as if he wanted a reaction from me or someone else. I was about to say something when Dabi shoved him away from me.

"Quit it, will you?" He said gruffly, clearly annoyed. "You're lucky I even dragged her here to meet your ugly ass."

"Going soft, Dabi?" Shigaraki asked. Dabi didn't answer. He just grabbed my hand and we walked back to my apartment. His hand never left mine.

When we got home and the door was shut, he looked me up and down - as if trying to find an injury. I recognized the habit as one of my own whenever he was at my door. "Hey I'm okay," I reassured.

"The... The reason they wanted to meet you was because I've been talking about you. A lot," he said with a sigh as he lazed about on my couch. I joined him and sat curled up on his chest. These past few months have been the best of my life. He, despite being a serial killer, was safe.

"And what do you tell them?" I ask.

"I tell them I want to be with you," he admits. I could tell it wasn't easy as he hesitated on his words and his heartbeat quickened. I looked up at him.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's not going to be... easy liking me and I get it if you don't like me like that. Except, I might have to kill you cause this is too embarrassing to not kill over." Now, normally if a mass murderer says something like this, I'd be concerned. But Dabi said it in a light way. There may have been some truth but I don't think he'd ever kill me... Right?

"Nothing is ever easy. I thought you were cute the minute I saw you shirtless in my kitchen," I joked. "I like you too, Dabi."

He hesitated greatly at my words. "...Touya. My name is Touya."

My eyes widened, "Woah wait what? Dabi isn't your real name?"

He looked at me quizzically. "No?? What kind of name is Dabi for a baby??"

"I don't know! I thought your parents hated you or something!"

"I mean, you could say that. My old man is a piece of shit to put it lightly. I was sick of the way things were going so I... Faked my death and became a villain."

"I'm sorry, Touya. I can't imagine," I said gently. I sat up from his chest and made him look at me. There was something so cute about him, about us. He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the back of my neck, pushing my face closer to his. I closed my eyes as well and our lips connected halfway.

In that moment, we were eternal. Nothing else mattered. The cars that sped down the street and the dogs that barked, all those noises were drowned out simply by the feeling of being so close to someone else. His hands traveled to my waist and he pulled me into his lap. My hand moved from his face to his shoulder to support myself. We disconnected our lips from each other after a minute, taking deep breaths and admiring the other.

"Maybe I am going soft," He mumbles. I didn't hear him though. I was already passed out sitting in his lap.

Two months into dating and Touya practically lives with me. Some of his clothes were in my closet and drawers, I had his favorite foods constantly stocked in my cabinets and fridge, and he even had his own toothbrush in my bathroom. We were sitting on my couch when I got a call from my sister, I looked puzzled and paused our show.

"[Sisters name]? What's up?" I asked. Dabi was about to ask me something but I held a finger up. He scoffed, crossed his arms, and pushed me away dramatically. "You want me to watch your kid..? Um yeah sure! Drop him off at my house." She hung up quickly after the confirmation.

"Who was that?" Dabi asked.

"My sister. We haven't spoken in 2 years and suddenly she has a kid and wants me to babysit? Ugh," I groaned.

He just hummed. "Do you think she's gonna freak out when she sees my face?"

"considering the fact it's on wanted posters; probably," I loving tap his cheek and he rolls his eyes. I was about to move off the couch but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

"Do you want kids?" He asked. It was the question I was both dreading and incredibly excited for.

"I would like some, yes. But with work and everything I don't know if I'd be able to," I replied.

"What? Like it's a one person job?" He teased.

I rolled my eyes. "With the people I used to date, I knew it would've been. How about you, Mr. Murder?"

"I used to think starting a family would be out of the picture for me but I don't know if that's the case anymore," he replied simply. He said it so casually I thought I was reading too deep into things.

"Y-you want to to have a family with me?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know who else I'd rather have one with. Besides, we'd make cute babies."

My sister arrived with my nephew. It was our first time meeting and I'm sure it was likely going to be the last. I brought Kam to the living room and introduced him to Touya.

"Kam, this is Touya. Touya, this is Kam," I said.

"Are those real?" Kam asked, pointing at Touya's face.

"My scars?" Touya asked. Kam nodded. "Yeah, bud. They're real. I got into a really bad accident when I was younger. They don't scare you, do they?"

Kam shook his head immediately. "No! They look super cool!"

Touya smiled. "Yeah?"

"Mhm!" Kam replied with an innocent smile on his face. Touya looked at me with a soft smile of his own. He had a look in his eyes as he played and talked to Kam. It was nothing I'd seen before. His eyes were full of fatherly love.

It was around 5 when the three of us were curled up on the couch. My head rested on Touya's chest and Kam sat on Touya's lap. He had protective arms wrapped around us. Kam was already sleeping and I was about to lull off myself, but then Touya started speaking.

"We should have one," He said. "These couple hours have been better than I could've imagined."

"You know it isn't going to be all sunshine and rainbows, right? If we have one it's gonna be a newborn and it'll cry all the time," I replied.

"Do you not want one?"

"I do. I really do. But, I don't want to force you into a commitment you're not ready for. Kids are a handful."

"I know. But... My life has been totally different these past months and it's because of you. Fuck, princess, I don't know what kind of drug you are but I'm addicted. You make me want to be a better person. But I know even if I wasn't, you'd still be there. You're the best damn thing in my life."

"Look at you getting all sappy on me," I teased.

"Forget it then," He scoffed. I rolled my eyes and moved off his chest to look at him in his eyes. I placed a hand on his cheek and and kiss him.

"I'm only teasing. You're the best thing in my life too. Before I met you, I was just in a constant loop. My days would feel the same and my life didn't feel worth it. Even if you're a crazy murderer, you're my crazy murderer."

He sarcastically smiled and rolled his eyes. "I think I'm the more sane one in this relationship."

"Only because I got you started on meds," I shrugged. "If you're serious, we can have a baby."

"Of course I'm serious. I just... Don't want to be like my dad."

"And you're not gonna. I'm not worried about that in the slightest. I can keep you in check."

"Yeah, I know you can, doll," He breathed out a sigh. He looked down at his lap as Kam shifted to get comfortable. His smile met his eyes as he leaned his head against mine.

I woke Touya up with an at-home pregnancy test in my hand. The two lines on it made me feel anxious. I was worried he wouldn't actually want to have a kid, that maybe he just said it to make me feel better. "Touya," I said as I shook him awake.

"Hm? I'm trying to sleep, princess," He groaned into his pillow. By this time, he was fully living in my apartment. I got new pillows and sheets, we painted the walls, and hung up photos of us together. It really felt like a home.

"You might want to wake up," I said. "Something happened."

He shot up almost immediately. He looked at me and scanned my body as if he had my quirk. Then his eyes fell onto my hands with the pregnancy test in their grasp. He looked at me shocked and then he grabbed the test. He saw the two lines and breathed deeply. "We're going to be parents?" He asked.

"Y-yeah," I choked. "I understand if you don't want me to have it... I know we talked about it a lot but I get it if you... want.. to.. leave..?" I looked down and refused to meet his eyes. He sighed.

"After all this time, you really think I'm going to leave you?" He asked. He grabbed my face and looked at me so sincerely. "We're gonna be parents, princess. I'll leave the league, I'll try seeing what I can do to become reformed, I want to be with you."

"You mean it?"

"Never wanted anything more in my life."

Touya came home from visiting the League with a bruise on his face. I rushed over to him immediately. "What happened?" I doted.

"They couldn't believe I was leaving. Me and Scratchy got into a fight," He smiled. "They want to see our baby when he's born and Crazy says you need to text her."

It had been three months since Touya started his reformation process. It wasn't easy. I was basically a glorified babysitter. He was put on meds that blocked his quirk, something I knew he hated. But he kept going for me. Today was finally the day we were going to see his siblings. His father, Endeavor, was someone he wanted nothing to do with. Even after all the therapy he went through, nothing could shake the hatred he felt. His natural hair was showing now, he stopped dying it black and it was now a bright white. I wore a simple light purple dress and Touya had black jeans and a dark purple button-up on.

"What if they don't like me?" I groaned as we walked to his house.

"I should be the one worrying about that. You're not a serial killer," Touya grumbled.

"Former serial killer," I chimed. He rolled his eyes. I looked up and we were on the Todoroki Family's doorstep. "Are you ready?"

He shrugged, "Only been a decade or so since I saw them."

I huff and knock on the door. A girl opens it, Fuyumi I assume. "Hi, I hope you were informed about our visit..." I asked worriedly. Touya was standing awkwardly at my side.

"No, I'm sorry. Who are you?" Fuyumi asked.

My heart dropped. "I'm your brother's girlfriend, and this is Touya." I introduced the two for him, I knew he wouldn't be able to. Fuyumi's eyes widened.

"Touya?" She gasped. She looked at his scarred face and blue eyes. A look of recognition flashed behind her own.

"Hey, Yumi," Touya replied. He acted casual, but I could tell it was eating him up inside. There was so much he wanted to say, but no words could describe.

"Does Dad know you're here?" she asked.

Touya tensed. "He knows we're here, but I refuse to see him." His sister hummed.

"Well, come in. Tell us where you've been!" She said kindly. She led the two of us in and sat us down at the table. "Nats! Sho! Come down here!"

Touya was growing more and more anxious. He couldn't stop the feeling of anxiety that crawled within him. I placed my hand in his and squeezed tightly, he gently sighed and took deep breaths. Natsuo and Shoto came down, they were expecting dinner and not their long-lost brother and his girlfriend, obviously.

"Who are they?" Shoto asked.

"Touya?" Natsuo said, amazed. Shoto looked at Touya shocked. Natsuo pushed past Fuyumi and Shoto and embraced Touya tightly. I smiled at the sight.

Touya and I sat at the table as he reconnected with his siblings. After the initial shock of seeing him wore off, they welcomed him with open arms. We still hadn't told them the "big news" so to speak.

"We didn't come here just to meet and catch up," Touya said. He glanced at me and I looked down slightly. "Are you two getting married?" Fuyumi asked. I blushed viciously. "N-no!" "Well?" Natsuo prompted. Touya looked at me and I nodded. "She's pregnant," Touya explained. All three of their eyes widened. Fuyumi immediately started doting on me and cheerfully checked over my body. Natsuo patted Touya on his back and Shoto was just stunned. "Oh my god! How far along are you?" Fuyumi asked. "14 weeks," I answered. "I hope you guys aren't too shocked." "Well, our brother comes back from the dead with a girlfriend and a baby on the way... I think we can be a little shocked," Natsuo said. I laughed a bit. "You're having a kid out of wedlock?" Shoto asked. "Yeah," Touya said as he rubbed his neck. "It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision." "At that exact moment sure, but we talked about it beforehand," I rolled my eyes. "Hey, I'm not complaining," He teased. I blushed and stuck my thumb down at him. Shoto made a fake throw-up noise and Natsuo looked away with a soft smile. Fuyumi shook her head.

"How are you going to tell Dad?" She asked. Touya shrugged, "Simple. We're not. He'll find out when he finds out but he won't hear it from either of us." Fuyumi just nodded. "I'm glad to have you back, Touya." "Me too!" Natsuo agreed. "It is nice," Shoto added. Touya just sheepishly rubbed his neck again, he clearly wasn't expecting so much support. "It's good to be back," Touya said.

Our baby woke up crying for the third time that night. It was now one full year since Touya started reforming. He went to all his mandatory meetings, took his meds, and went through extensive therapy. I was about to get up but my white-haired boyfriend stopped me. Even though he seemed annoyed, I could see the love in his eyes from just knowing our baby was alive and with us. He was happy because we had a family. "I'll get him, princess," He said. He pushed me back to lying down and pulled the blanket back over my body. I smiled at him and watched as he went over to the crib we set up in our room. He held our baby in his hands and cradled him tightly as he rocked him back to sleep. After a few minutes, our baby fell back asleep. Touya smiled and gently placed him back in the crib.

Touya crawled into bed with me and held me close. "Thank you," Touya whispered into my hair. "For what?" I asked, snuggling into him further. "Giving me something to live for," He replied.

BONUS!

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Bad PR-Jordan Li Fic

A/N: I saw someone post about needing a fic about Jordan being in a relationship where they're "unmarketable" and haven't been able to get the idea out of my head since. This is written with a black reader in mind. I also have a sequel in mind if anyone wants it.

Word Count: 3739

Warnings: Some sensuality and swearing.

I don't claim to own any characters or property from Gen V or The Boys. All credit to the original gif creators.

  Silence was something that I always thought I longed for. Every day for the past twenty years, there was noise, whether it was someone (usually multiple) talking, music blasting, cars going by, or screaming. By now, I thought I would have learned how to tune it out and focus on what was most important: save the little kids from a burning school, study as hard as I could to get into GOD U, and manipulate social media algorithms so much it would make tech experts’ heads spin.

   But, I hadn’t. Then, I thought I got used to the noise, the demands to take pictures with total strangers, the background noise of a song I was doing a TikTok challenge to, Liza, my Vought-assigned PR rep, and my parents insisting on what I should wear, and the constant buzzing in the back of my head that my ability caused. However, as I laid on Jordan’s bed, listening to them ramble about Brink, I didn’t mind the noise so much.

  “I mean, he’s kind of a mad genius but for good,” Jordan stated. Then, they turned to me with a sheepish smile on their face. “Sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

  I shook my head. “No, no, it’s alright. Brink’s brilliant and it’s amazing that you’re his mentee.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “Besides, you’re pretty cute when you’re excited.”

  Jordan rolled their eyes and slowly made their way towards me, stopping right at the foot of their bed. “Only when I’m excited?”

  “Shut up, you know you always look good,” I teased.

   They playfully flipped their hair and batted their eyes. “Well, we can’t all have a glam squad on call so I appreciate it.”

   I scoffed, rose to my knees, and playfully pushed their shoulder only for them to switch to their masculine form and grab my hand. “That’s not fair and I didn’t even ask for them, my parents and Liza insisted on it when I got in.”

   Jordan nodded but I could tell they weren’t listening since their eyes were on my lips. “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

   Something about their deeper masculine voice sent tingles down my spine and made my stomach feel fuzzy. Then again, they easily caused the same effect in both forms. My breath caught in my throat as soon as our lips touched, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I tried to relax in their gentle but firm grip as I wrapped my hands around their neck, but it was easier said than done.

   Suddenly, my back was against their bed and the kissing got more fervent. Jordan slipped their tongue down my throat and trailed one of their hands down my leg. I shivered as they pulled my leg up around their hip and pressed further into me.

   “I should’ve known this is what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out,” I breathed after pulling away for a second.

   “I had good intentions but you kept screwing me with your eyes,” Jordan huffed back.

   “No, I---” Jordan cut me off, switching to their feminine form and kissing my jaw, working their way down my neck. “Not…fair.”

   One of their hands slowly started trailing up under my (their) sweatshirt and I tried to stifle my giggles at the soft touch. After a couple of seconds, I couldn’t help but start giggling and covered my face when Jordan paused their actions and looked up at me.

   “Still ticklish?” Jordan teased.

   “Shut up, it’s your fault since they're your hands,” I groaned through another laugh.

   Jordan smirked at me and ran their hands down my waist, gently tapping my sides, causing more laughter on my end. I tried to reach for their hands to stop them but they were too good at dodging me. At some point during my laughter, my phone started ringing.

    “Ignore it,” Jordan whined as they pressed their head against my stomach, their big brown eyes somehow looking bigger and browner than usual.

   “I can’t,” I whined back as I pulled away from them and grabbed my phone from my desk. “It’s Liza, I have to answer.”

    Jordan rolled their eyes. “That bitch has the worst timing.”

   “She might not be able to help it.” I quickly answered the phone. “Hey, Liza.”

   “Y/N, I’m on campus and we need to talk ASAP. Meet me outside the Crimefighting building in five,” Liza rattled off.

   “Oh, sure, what’s it about?” I asked.

   “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

   She clicked off and I turned to Jordan, who was much less than pleased.

  “Let me guess, you have to go,” they said.

   “I’m sorry, it sounded important,” I said as I started grabbing my stuff from around their room. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

   “No, don’t worry about it.” They pushed themselves off the bed and stood in front of me, gently grabbing my hands in theirs. “It’s your career and I’m proud of you. I knew what I was getting into when the Cyclone became my girlfriend.”

    I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that. But I appreciate you and I will show you as much later.” I quickly kissed them and grabbed my shoes. Just as I was about to leave, I paused at something in their closet. “Is that my jacket?”

   Jordan shook their head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

   I snatched the item from the closet and held it out. “Jordan, you’re going to try to convince me that you’re into vintage Yves Saint Laurent?”

       “Your taste rubbed off on me,” they said with a shrug.

       “I’m flattered.” I put it back in their closet.  

        “By the way, do you know where my black hoodie went?”

       “See you later!”

        About four and a half minutes later, I was sitting at an outdoor table with Liza and my parents. Despite the summer heat, Liza was wearing a navy skirt suit, and her graying black hair was tied into a severe bun on the top of her head. She was typing on two different phones and her laptop simultaneously, deep blue eyes never staying on anything too long. My mom, who sat on my right, smiled kindly.

        “So, Y/N, how does it feel to be a junior?” she asked.

        “Great, Mom. I thought I told you and Dad that you didn’t have to hover this much since I am a junior now,” I said, glancing at my dad who was on my other side.

        “We’re not hovering, it’s been two days since we dropped you off,” Dad insisted. “Besides, this is about business.”

          “Wha---”

           “Oh my gosh, is that Y/N Y/L/N?” Someone squealed behind me.

          “Show time,” I sighed.

          The “someone” was actually two someones, a pair of what looked like freshmen. One was a tall, pretty brunette in a white graphic tee and matching mini skirt and the other was an equally pretty, slightly shorter brunette wearing jean shorts and Vans. The taller one held her V-Phone with a death grip.

           “Can we take a picture with you?” The taller one asked.

           “Of course.” I stood from my seat and made my way over to them.

           “I can take it.” But before my mom could stand, Liza shot up from her seat, grabbed the phone, and ushered us closer together.

           “Okay, Y/N in the middle, Tall Girl on the left, Short One on the right,” Liza instructed, eyes never looking up from the camera.

          “It’s Ashley,” the short one said.

          “Smile!”

          I did as I was told and the girls were walking away before I could even say an obligatory, “No problem.”

            Both my parents smiled as I sat back down.

            “It’s great to see that you’re still popular after all this time,” Dad said, his eyes hidden behind his tinted sunglasses.

             “As she should be. Y/N has thirty million followers across all her social media and she does amazing in the Midwest and the South, both tough demographics for young black women,” Liza stated.

            “Thanks, Liza,” I said, mindlessly playing with the ends of my butterfly locs. “So, you mentioned you were coming but left out my parents.”

            At this, Liza finally paused from typing and looked up at me. She slowly set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on top of her pale hands. My head involuntarily started shaking from side to side and Liza lifted one of her hands.

            “Let me speak first, Y/N, and then we can argue about it,” Liza stated.

            “The last time you said that, I ended up almost getting mauled by a dog during an animal shelter livestream,” I hissed.

             “Well, the dog had a serious history of trauma,” Liza insisted.

             “You didn’t inform me of that before insisting I cuddle with it for the camera!”

              “It was a learning lesson: you are fantastic under pressure.”

               I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. “So, what is this about?”

              Liza assumed her previous “Serious business” pose. “Like I was saying, you’re doing fantastic numbers. That last TikTok you and Cate did hit a hundred million views in less than twenty-four hours.”

            “The ‘Rover’ challenge wasn’t that hard,” I commented.

             “That’s amazing!” Mom practically cheered.

             “That’s my girl,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

              I smiled despite the strong sense that a “but” was coming.

             “However,” Liza continued.

              Uh oh.

             “My job is to do everything in my power to make sure everyone associates Y/N Y/L/N and Cyclone with beauty, intelligence, grace, taste, and power. So, we are a little concerned about Jordan.”

              Immediately, my shoulders tensed and I gritted my teeth. “Who exactly is ‘we’?” I glanced at my parents.

                Mom’s eyes widened and I had no idea what Dad was doing.

                “No, of course not, Sweetie, we love Jordan. They have been a fantastic influence on you,” Mom insisted.

               I could feel my face warm up about what had transpired with Jordan a few minutes ago. I doubt that would fall under “good influence”, or any time we went out with the others. 

               “And they give you a run for your money when it comes to combat. You need someone challenging like them. Plus, that Luke boy isn’t bad either,” Dad added.

               As their words sunk in, I had a strange feeling that my parents were there to lessen a Vought-sized blow. My suspicions were confirmed when Liza’s lips pressed more firmly together and she was glancing at one of her phones.

               “Are you reading a script right now?” I seethed.

               Liza’s head shot up and she shook her head. “No, no, Y/N, not at all. Just some notes.” She quickly regrouped. “I understand that you’re happy and you’re probably having some fantastic sex right now----”

               “Liza!” I interrupted, praying that the ground would open and swallow me whole.

               Suddenly, Dad’s arm was back at his side, and Mom was suddenly very captivated by a pair of seniors skateboarding past.

               “But the facts are that a bi-gender Asian supe is not marketable in the Deep South or the Midwest,” Liza said. “I am not shaming Jordan for who they are but, my job is to sustain your relatable-but-unattainable brand and not let anything get in the way of it.”

              “You’re saying my partner is a threat to my career?” I asked, my voice much hollower than I intended.

               “Potentially. Now, I have come up with a very good alternative.” Liza turned her laptop so it was facing my parents and me. On it was a picture of Andre and some clips of us on social media. “Andre Anderson tested very well. Our focus group members responded positively to the black power couple aesthetic.”

             “We’ve met him before, he’s nice,” Mom offered.

              “He’s cool and I’ve met his dad and I could see us all getting along,” Dad mentioned.

               My head was swirling with so many thoughts that I was convinced I was either going to be overwhelmed by them or find one that was coherent enough to state. My mouth settled on, “It’s the twenty-first century and you’re all telling me I have to break up with my partner because of demographics? Jordan’s an amazing supe and they’re so smart, it’s scary. They can do---will do so much good and the only thing you care about is optics?”

               Mom gently touched my arm. “Y/N, please, calm down.”

When I glanced around, I noticed that several Vought-A-Burger wrappers, a couple of cigarettes, and a few panicked squirrels and rabbits were swirling around the table. Quickly, I released the small animals and put the trash in the nearby receptacle.

              “Sorry about that,” I muttered, eyeing Liza.

               “I understand that you have strong feelings for Jordan but, think about it. With the right moves, you could be living in The Tower with the legends of your generation. Sure, you’re number three at GOD U right now, but this status can easily go away. You’ve worked your entire life to be the hero that little black girls everywhere look up to. Don’t take Cyclone away from them before she even starts,” Liza warned.

               I desperately wanted to say something snarky, but my mind was blank. The only thing I could sense was my throat tightening up and my eyes beginning to well. I brushed a loc out of my face to play it off and tried to gain my thoughts.

              “How much time do I have before I make a decision?” I asked.

              “Twenty-four hours. I’ll be looking out for your call, text, email, or video call,” Liza stated as she started to pack her things.

                My parents stood and Mom gave me one of her warm hugs and Dad pulled me to his side.

              “It will be okay, Y/N,” he whispered.

               I swallowed the giant lump in my throat to thank him and then insisted on walking them back to their car.

              A few hours later, Elle Woods was sobbing in the fanciest restaurant in California while I carefully placed my baking pan in the oven. As much as I wanted to sob, I had no time for tears, I had to think. The thinking led me to have so many circular thoughts that my head spun and I resorted to baking and watching my favorite movie.

              If Elle could solve a murder case and exonerate her client as a first-year law student, I should be able to figure out this PR mess. On the one hand, I was happier with Jordan than I’ve ever been with anyone. On the other hand, my dreams and my family’s position were hanging by a thread.

            Maybe it was better that I channeled my energy into baking cupcakes.

            I exhaled a small gust of wind to clear the bowls and utensils from the counter and place them in the dishwasher. Then, I focused on pushing multiple gusts of wind from my hands to clean the counters and wash the dishes. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and flopped on my couch to mindlessly watch the movie.

            Unfortunately, the bright and colorful backdrop of Elle’s LSAT studying montage did nothing to take my mind off my dilemma. All I could think about was Jordan’s face when I told them. Breaking up with them would be like shooting a puppy’s mom in front of the puppy and making it watch it bleed out.

               How would I tell them anyway? Hey, babe, I’m sorry I had to run out on us almost hooking up to meet with Liza and my parents. Funny story, they want me to break up with you so that I have a shot at a career and date Andre instead. See you for that morning lecture?

             Knock! Knock! Knock!

            The sound jolted me from my thoughts, and I pushed myself off the couch to answer it. “Rufus, if you try to get me into your room again, I swear to----” I cut myself off at the sight of Jordan, in their feminine form, staring back at me.

            They wore a navy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Also, their cheeks were more flushed than usual and they smelled like their sandalwood body wash, meaning they had probably stopped by the gym recently.

             “Is Rufus bothering you again? I’ll go murder him right now,” Jordan said.

              I quickly grabbed their wrist. “No, I appreciate the thought but I’m fine, besides, I can take care of myself.”

             “I know but I can’t help but worry.”

              A strange warm, tingling sensation ran its way from the center of my chest throughout the rest of my body. I was sure that if someone listened closely enough, they would hear me buzzing.

             I stepped aside to let Jordan in and leaned against the door to close it. “So, what brings you by?”

            They wandered over to my couch, sat down, and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. “Because you haven’t been answering my texts or calls.”

             “Crap, I am so sorry, Jordan, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

             Jordan glanced around my dorm. “I can see that.” They sniffed the air. “Legally Blonde and you’re baking, what happened at the meeting?” 

            Of course, Jordan would cut straight to the point. Usually, this kind of banter was pleasant but my stomach was in knots as Liza’s words and my parents’ expressions replayed in my mind.

           “What? I can’t bake and watch a comfort movie after a last-minute PR meeting?” I asked rhetorically, crossing the room to my desk to start organizing my textbooks.

           “Don’t try to deflect, Y/N. Tell me what happened.” Their voice was gentle but firm and I knew that they were not going to let me out of this conversation.

           So, I set Brink’s latest book down and sat across from Jordan on my tangerine accent chair. I prayed that I would find the right words to say before blurting them out. As soon as I made eye contact with them, my chest tightened.

          “Well, Liza surprised me by having my parents join us,” I started.

           Jordan raised their eyebrows. “Shit, this is serious.”

           “Uh-huh. Liza said that my numbers are doing great and I’m on track for a promising career.”

           “And?”

           I gulped. “And…she’s concerned that my personal choices might get in the way of that.”

          Jordan frowned. “Personal choices? Every college kid known to man has done illicit substances and drank alcohol underage. You’ve never been caught doing any of that anyway.”

        “You’re right but she wasn’t talking about partying; she was talking about us.”

         As soon as the bomb rolled off my tongue, I saw its impact on Jordan, from the flashing expressions of confusion and anger to the clenching of their fists. I just wanted to make it stop.

        “What?”

         As I rambled Liza’s reasoning, I could sense the hurt and animosity flowing from Jordan. Once I finished, the timer for the cupcakes went off and I jumped up to grab them. I could have cried at the momentary escape as I set them on the counter to cool.

        “She weaponized your desire to be a positive role model for other girls who look like you to screw you over,” Jordan said slowly.

           I wiped my hands on my sweatpants. “Liza’s doing her job, babe, and she’s looking at all angles, including how it could impact my goals.” I returned to my seat and folded my hands in my lap.

          “Her job is to make you choose between your relationship and your career?” Jordan asked. “That’s bullshit, this whole thing is.”

           “I know, Jordan, trust me, I know, I almost started a small tornado when she said it.”

            Jordan eyed me closely for a second. “What else did she say?”

           “What?”

           “I can tell you’re holding back, Y/N. Whatever else you have to say, it can’t be any worse.”

           They might have just jinxed that.

           “Liza thinks that Andre would be a better fit for me because a bunch of people like the idea of a black power couple.”

           Jordan had two angry responses: the first was they would attempt to tear down anything and everything around them unless consoled. The second was they would become unresponsive and deal with all their rage internally. That night, I got the second one. Their eyes were hollow and the color drained from their face. My eyes welled up as I hoped for them to start screaming, swearing, or something, but nothing happened.

         “But I don’t want to do it, Jordan, I think it’s so stupid.” I knelt in front of them, grabbed my phone from their hands, and set it aside to hold them. “My parents don’t even really agree with Liza because they know you and they think you’re awesome.”

        “What do you think?” they muttered.

        “Like I said, I think it’s stupid. We can figure something else out. Liza can spin us as the ultimate diverse power couple, huh?” I did my best to smile as widely as I could. “Come on, let’s forget about this. I made white velvet cupcakes with cream cheese filling. You can be my first taste tester once they cool.”

         Things would work out, they had to. We would figure something out and survive our junior year at GOD U with little to no incidents. Suddenly, Jordan’s hands slipped from my grasp and they shifted to their masculine form.

         “What if it doesn’t work out?” Jordan whispered.

          “What do you mean?” I replied.

         “I mean, you don’t necessarily have to be a supe but, I know that you’re scared for your parents. Your success has helped them a lot and it could destroy them if your reputation takes a hit,” they said. “And I’ve seen how little black girls light up when they see you now and how passionate you are about helping them and, I know that you’re just getting started and I don’t want to be in the way.”          “Jordan…”

         “I don’t want to hold you back anymore, Y/N,” they muttered.

         Their words sunk deep into my core like a boulder and took all my words with it. I wanted to tell them that they could never hold me back and that they made me a better super, a better person. But all I could do was watch as they stood and walked out of my dorm, taking our one and a half year relationship with them.

[yeagerfate]

Hey I saw your spider verse post on makeup, could you do one with the like the opposite effect? Like I don’t wear a lot of makeup (mostly because I am lazy lol) but maybe the Spider verse sees them with makeup for the first time?

Thanks! Have a lovely day! Xoxo

Don’t forget to eat, drink water, and get rest!!!!

seeing you with makeup for the first time

characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar

notes: thanks for requesting and for ur kind words! ur the first one to send me a request so that’s :)) this is basically the opposite of my other post about them seeing you without makeup for the first time. so sorry if this isn’t want you wanted! i did more of a spin on this than the previous one lol #creativefreedom (not proofread sorry)

warnings: none lol

Prom was an extravagant event at Brooklyn Visions Academy, so Miles immediately knew that you were going to go all out for it. Though, he was a bit happy that you told him you didn’t want him to do some over the top promposal. Miles may be well-versed in subjects like art and physics, but his mind went blank when it came to stuff like that. Miles was really anxious about coming to pick you up, as your dad was super protective of you, but his own father gave him a pep-talk. He felt much better. When he saw you in your glamorous dress/suit, he was taken aback almost instantly. He’d never seen you in such magnificent makeup before. He felt…. bewitched. “W-wow,” He stuttered. “You look…. great.” He found himself at a loss for words. Your heart stuttered, and you felt like you’d never been happier. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You giggled. The way you smiled that day made Miles glad he got it in a picture.

Miguel knew that he shouldn’t get involved with one of his subordinates, especially if they were new, but he wanted to break the rules as soon as he saw you. You were…. beautiful, to say the least. The way your makeup perfectly complemented the color of your eyes and skin was glorious. Naturally, you were a bit shy because of your newness, so Jessica accompanied you on your first day with the permission of Miguel. He was very glad someone he was close to was helping you so he could get another good look at you. He felt a bit perverted, like a voyeur, but you were just so… alluring. The smile you radiantly gave him as you shook his hand for the first time was addicting. He wanted to know more about you, even if you were just meant to be a secretary to Jessica. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he asked you out for coffee? It couldn’t be, right? He’d just have to make sure Lyla wouldn’t find out about it, as he wasn’t looking forward to being made fun of for weeks.

Hobie loved it when you attended his concerts, so when you came with makeup inspired by his own, he went wild. He found himself being much more clingy than usual, wanting to get a good look at your pretty face and hold you. It meant so much to him that you were involved in his music career… so many people in his life had dismissed it, or had told him to get a “real job”, so your support mattered so much to him. Hobie complimented you multiple times, each comment more sweet than the last, and so by the end of the night you were beaming. The firm kiss you’d given him backstage after his show had ended was something he wouldn’t trade the world for. It was so satisfying, so lovely, so…. you. He loved you. Hesitantly, Hobie asked you if he could walk you to your apartment. When you said yes, he found himself even more ecstatic than before. You were very tired after his show, and so was he, so you both took turns cleaning each others makeup off. You took your time, your hands gentle and benign. Hobie’s hands were a bit rough because of all of his calluses, so he was careful. “Thank you,” he’d whispered to you sincerely later in the night. “I love you.”

Gwen had done your makeup for you, and the way it turned out made her very happy. You looked absolutely incredible, and she almost wanted to dramatically drop her jaw to make you laugh the way she liked. The two of you were supposed to go to Miles’ state championship basketball game, so you both wanted to look nice for pictures later. Gwen spent a lot of time meticulously doing your makeup, wanting it to be exactly tailored to your taste. Any mistakes she’d made she’d immediately wipe off and start again. Excitedly, Gwen had you twirl around in your nice dress and makeup in a mini-fashion show. “You look beautiful,” she told you. Her voice was warm and genuine, her smile heartfelt. That night, after you’d gotten home, she’d kissed your soft lips tenderly, telling you how much she loved you. “Every time I look at you, you seem to get even more beautiful. I’m glad that in this universe, we’re happy together.”

Birthdays were really important to Pavitr’s family, so you wanted to go all out for it. You planned a perfect surprise party with his wonderful auntie. It was really hard to keep it a secret, but it eventually worked out. You were glad you never told him about it because of the joyous look on his face when he realized what was going on. Privately, he gave you a kind kiss and a warm hug, telling you how happy he was. The smile on his face was absolutely adorable and you wanted to squeeze him but you didn’t, not wanting to embarrass him. It didn’t take Pavitr long to compliment you on how beautiful you looked, especially with your amazing makeup. Mushy words were uttered that night, making you both cringe and smile at the same time. It was marvelous. His family had whispered to his aunt asking you when you were to be married, and she just shrugged happily. “Young love,” she muttered. It reminded her of when she was Pavitr’s age.

[meadowscarlet]

inflicted desire ━━━ kaz brekker.

pairings: kaz brekker x fem!reader.

summary: you were simply a crow and nina's closest friend, but kaz doesn't understand why he feels the need to be near you or protect you when you can protect yourself; he is closed off and unreadable, and he couldn't articulate his feelings properly, until you were hurt on the job.

warnings: the normal six of crows shenanigans.

author’s note: a reposted fic. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

Kaz Brekker did not make mistakes. He was a thief, not a fool, the Dregs' leader, and Ketterdam's most notorious man. He had a sharp intellect and was astute; no one ventured to cross him out of fear, or they were rational enough not to.

His plans were meticulous, and if something went wrong (which was unlikely), he had hundreds of backup plans ready to go. And everything went well, but there was a glimmer of realization that Kaz had made the biggest mistake of his life. It was bothering him, and he had a nagging feeling of uneasiness.

If he had merely noted when he met you—charming and intriguing—when he visited the House of the White Rose to inform Nina about a job; he should have simply ignored you when you passed him in the hall without a second glance, but Kaz had been effectively intrigued.

Nina told him that you were her closest friend and the one person in the White Rose who kept her sane. Nina was cautious, with a guarded gleam in her eyes and a reluctance that could get you killed in Ketterdam, when Kaz inquired whether you had any skills.

Nina had given Kaz a sharp gaze and said, “Recruiting her in the Dregs is dangerous.”

“Nina dear,” Kaz drawled. “It's dangerous everywhere in Ketterdam. And I think your friend would appreciate getting out of here every now and then.”

Nina told Kaz about your bewitching qualities with a little more trepidation. You were charismatic, a pretty face and a cunning smile that could tempt wealthy merchants to give you kruge and a wise convincer. Nina also mentioned that you had good combat skills. Kaz Brekker had smirked at the time, his thoughts racing. He was well aware that he needed you on his team.

That was his very first mistake. You were good at your work—you did a brilliant job and Kaz knew you were a terrific addition to the Dregs—but as the days passed, he began to have an underlying feeling inside him that he quickly dismissed whenever you were there. Kaz often wondered if he should have heeded Nina's advice about not recruiting you in the Dregs, but he'd been blinded by his curiosity, and he bitterly regretted it.

He recalled one mission in which they were meant to spy on a handful of Pekka Rollins' men. Kaz remembered how meticulously he had prepared for this; he had gone over blueprints over and again until his eyes were weary, but he would not rest—never. Kaz was scrupulous with his plotting especially since it involved Pekka Rollins.

When there's a lovely girl around and they're inebriated, men are simple to seduce. So, of course, your main task was to play the inquisitive girl, allowing men to reveal their drunken secrets while you sat, looking pretty. Despite the fact that you were skilled in this vicinity, Kaz didn't like the plan, but he needed Inej on the roofs and Nina by the door, so you were left as an option.

As he saw you woo one of Rollins guys, he felt a prickling sensation inside him. You were dressed in a velvety white dress that accentuated your contours; you stood out in the darkness of Ketterdam, and you shone brightly. Kaz may not believe in Saints, but he was convinced you were one by the radiance of your smile and dress.

He despised seeing you sitting on a drunk Dime Lion man's lap, and Kaz noticed you looked uneasy, so he fought the impulse to smash the man's head with his cane until his skull cracked satisfyingly. He reminded himself that this was a job, and he needed to do his part. Despite your unsettled expression, he could see your ears perk up, and that's when Kaz recognized the man had begun to speak.

Kaz watched you giggling and touching the man's forearm while drinking your drink; you were playing your part wonderfully as usual. And it all happened very quickly; when the drunken man leaned close to you, another man approached him to stop him, and Kaz realized the man knew who you were.

The man had said something to the inebriated man, and the latter had suddenly sobered up, and Kaz realized chaos had occurred. Because of the drink you drank, you appeared tipsy, but Kaz could see how your eyes flared in terror and your gaze immediately darted to him.

Kaz had set out on foot to get you, but Nina had beaten him to it. Nina had grasped your wrist and pulled you away in alarm before the man could grab you. Shots were being fired, and Kaz could see Jesper rousing his revolters to fire back at the men who were shooting at you and now at Jesper.

Kaz was so concentrated on the men and the bullets that he missed you limping in Nina's arms as he pulled his own gun. Nina wore a worried expression on her face and was essentially bearing half your weight. And Kaz could see it: there was blood on your abdomen that was obvious and evident through the white of your dress. As Kaz focused on you, gunshots faded into the background, and he was startled out of his reverie when Jesper told them to leave.

He didn't normally listen to Jesper because he was the one who gave the directions and commands, but now his feet followed Jesper's, his leg jerking in pain as he hobbled, yet his step was swift. He remembered the blood on your adobem, the way Nina's eyes widened, and he was filled with dread. It was terrifying. Since Jordie, he hasn't felt like this in years.

Kaz knew Inej was close behind him, quiet and concealed like the Wraith she is, as his Crows hurried to the Slat. As you limped beside Nina, Kaz could see you being held by her, and he turned to Jesper, a sensation inside him that he didn't want to convey.

“Run after Nina," Kaz rasped coldly. “Help her with Y/N.”

Jesper didn't need to say anything else as he ran to Nina, and when he caught up with both girls, he grabbed your waist and helped half of your weight as Nina and Jesper carried you to the Slat. Kaz despised hearing a hint of fragility in his voice, but Jesper didn't seem to mind.

It didn't matter to Kaz if Nina could hear his rapid heartbeat. Kaz saw that the others were watching him as his eyes swept you laying on your bed with Nina mending your wound. Even though your face was pale and your breathing was unsteady, you were alive, Kaz was not soothed. Despite her concerns, Nina had been firm, requesting medical equipment from Matthias, who had followed orders.

Kaz isn't concerned about the Rollins information right now; all he wants is for you to be alright. He remembered your eyes widening in panic and searching for his first. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head, focusing on you instead. And there was so much blood, Kaz gripped his cane tightly in his fist.

“Heal her,” he murmured.

Nina gave him a cold stare. “I'm trying, Kaz, but there's just too much blood.”

“I don't care,” Kaz said icily, his gaze matching hers. “Zenik, heal her.”

Inej had left, but not before praying to her Saints for you to be well. Jesper walked away as well, noticing the gloom in Kaz's voice and Nina's gaze. Matthias was retrieving more medical supplies, creating a tense atmosphere with only a feverish Kaz, an anxious but indignant Nina, and an alive yet barely Y/ N.

“You should leave, l'll get to you once l'm done,” Nina remarked as she resumed working in your wounded abdomen.

Kaz stood firm in his position. “I'm not going anywhere.”

With a shake of her head, Nina replied, “Your heartbeat is distracting me.” Kaz noticed her hand quivering. “I can sense your nerves, Brekker, and it doesn't help that l'm worried about her as well.”

He was terrified; he had shown vulnerability, and Nina had noticed. She knew he cared about you, and he had never experienced anything like it with anybody else. When Inej was stabbed, Jesper was shot, or Matthias, Wylan, and Nina were hurt, Kaz's heart didn't rush as rapidly. It was always you who made his heart race with nerves and a need to protect you if you were harmed.

When Kaz glanced at your hand, palm up, he felt compelled to grasp it. Not Jesper, who had brought you to the Slat, or even Nina, who stroked your hair away from your face every now and then, but he should be the one holding you and aiding you. But Kaz knew that idea alone was impossible; he couldn't think about it without shivering with distaste, so he stayed, a safe distance away, with a tremendous desire to hold you.

Nina fixed her gaze on him. “I assume she'll be a little hazy when she wakes up, so don't ask her any questions about the information.”

“I don't give a damn about the information,” Kaz remarked indifferently.

Kaz despised the mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she shot him a shocked glance. “Kaz Brekker not caring about the information that's about Pekka Rollins? Somebody pinch me.”

He gave her a skeptical look as he rolled his eyes. “Keep her alive by doing your work, Nina dear.”

Nina shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes were gloomy. “She's not dead, Kaz,” she said with a shake of her head. “Since the blood loss, she'll be unconscious, but she'll be fine—she usually is.”

Kaz nodded in agreement. What Nina said was right; it was not uncommon for someone in the Crows to be hurt—it happens all the time, especially during heists and jobs—but the jobs were mostly successful, and Kaz had been blunt in assigning you the safest task (charming people) because a selfish part of him wanted you to be in the middle of the job so he could keep an eye on you.

But, despite his composed demeanor, he seemed to crumble everywhere around you. Perhaps you had charmed him, as you had charmed so many others, by bewitching him with your entire being, causing his black heart to seek you out. When you were around, there was always an inflicted desire within Kaz, which he had always disregarded until now.

Kaz wanted to kill the man who had touched you, as well as track down the person who had shot you. He remembered your bright eyes dampening in fear and a brief tremor of despair as you realized you'd been caught, then blood splattering across your white dress and Nina's worried expression as she carried your limping weight.

Nina snarled, “You're doing it again.”

With his dark eyes, Kaz looked at her. “What?”

“I know you love her and all, but I need to focus, and your heartbeat is incredibly distracting right now,” Nina rambled.

Kaz stilled as he heard the word he didn't want to associate himself with. “In Ketterdam, love is neglected; it is reserved for the weak.”

Nina surprised him by laughing. “What are you doing right now? Whenever Y/N is hurt, you appear weak—you're in your vulnerable form.”

Kaz wanted to kill Nina by saying things he knew were true, but he was ignorant and stubborn to accept it. Nina gave him a knowing look as she cleaned, healed, and wrapped a cloth around your wound before kissing you on the forehead and leaving Kaz alone with you.

Kaz strolled over to where you were laying after a few moments of contemplation. He examined your flawless face, which, despite seeming pale and near death, was nonetheless lovely. Kaz paused for a while before raising his gloved palm to your cheek and tucking the errant strand of hair away.

He sat down near your bed, putting his disgust aside. Despite the strong temptation, he did not grasp your inviting hand. Kaz had stayed by your bedside the entire night, never leaving your side. Nina had stopped by every now and then to change your bandage, but she had said nothing about Kaz's overstaying or even asked him to leave.

When Nina was treating your wound, she had said, “You should rest, Kaz.”

Kaz gave her a sidelong glance. “Don't tell me what to do.”

Nina may have been right, but she was also wrong. Kaz did not believe he was capable of love, yet he had a great desire to be with you. To be in your company, to receive your gorgeous smile, and to simply be in your presence. And this time he wasn't going to ignore it.