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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks.

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E W E E K A N D A D A Y E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation.

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone.

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had.

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along.

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand.

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you.

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said. However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would.

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University, a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period.

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor.

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever.

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need.

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied.

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen.

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical.

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth.

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue.

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!”

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider.

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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thebookreader12345 · 4 years ago

Text

One Crazy Week

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x reader

Summary: Once the whole Infection ordeal is over, Crockett makes the decision to go see Y/N, who he’s fallen in love with, so that he can finally confess his feelings for her

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, orgasms, slight swearing

Word Count: 1,742 Words

“Tough day?” Crockett questioned as he met up with me in the doctors’ lounge.

“Do you even have to ask? Today was crazy. The whole week was crazy. I’m just glad Intelligence caught the nut-job who was spreading the infection,” I claim.

“I’m pretty sure the word nut-job is not a medical term,” Crockett pointed out.

I laughed. “You’re spending way too much time with Dr. Charles. Anyways, I have a couch calling my name back at my apartment, so I’m gonna get going. See you next shift, Crockett.”

“Yeah. See ya,” Crockett said as I exited the doctors’ lounge. At my apartment, I put on a pair of of gray sweats and a red cropped t-shirt and lounged on the couch in my living room. The past few days had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. I was on my feet a lot running throughout the hospital to manage all of my patients and their needs, which was tiring on it’s own. But with the whole virus being spread, and seeing it kill some innocent people, it took a bit of a toll on my mental state. I was just glad to get some time off now to re-gather myself. That night, I was just sitting around watching some TV when someone knocked on the front door. I turned the TV off and made my way to the front door, opening it to reveal Crockett. “Hey, Yn. I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

“Not at all. Come in,” I declare and open the door wider to let him through. Crockett entered my apartment, ditched his shoes on the front mat, hung his jacket on the hook, and then made his way to my couch. If another one of my co-workers had come over and seen me like this, I would have been a bit embarrassed because, to be honest, I kind of looked like a bum. But Crockett had been over to my place many times and had seen me looking like this too many times for me to count, so I didn’t care anymore. I was also really comfortable around Crockett. Our relationship, whatever it was, was really strong. “So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to see how you were holding up,” Crockett confessed. “I know the past few days have been pretty tough on you.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Crockett. Do you want the complete honest truth? Or the short version?” I ask.

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with,” Crockett spoke.

I nodded and took a deep breath, looking down at my hands, which were sitting in my lap. “I have never felt more helpless than I did these past few days. People were dying, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was the doctor treating the baby that came in, and I-” My voice cracked as I stopped myself from talking. I took another deep breath, and once I had collected myself, I continued talking. “I couldn’t help her. No matter what I did, she just kept on getting worse. The same with all of those other people. I mean, we eventually got an antidote to the virus, but all of the people that died...” I trailed off, not wanting to continue.

“Come here,” Crockett ordered lightly and pat the spot next to him. I got off of my end of the couch and made my way over to him, taking the seat next to him. Crockett wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his side, a gesture that very much comforted me. For a few minutes, the two of us just sat in silence, but it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. It was actually pretty nice.

“Thanks for coming over, Crockett. I really needed this,” I admit.

“It was my pleasure. There uh, there’s also one other reason I came over. Ever since we’ve known each other, I have felt this connection to you that I haven’t felt in a long time. Being around you makes me happy, and you never fail to make me smile. I guess what I’m trying to say is that-” I cut Crockett off by turning my body, leaning up to kiss him. He responded almost immediately, adjusting his position so that he could deepen the kiss. As the kiss got more passionate, I changed positions, straddling myself on Crockett’s lap. I cupped his cheeks with my hands, and he slid his palms under my shirt, warming the skin on my sides. I hummed in pleasure against his lips and pulled away from Crockett for a quick second, only to take off my shirt and throw it to the floor. Crockett didn’t hesitate in smashing his lips to mine, but after a few seconds, I pulled away from his lips.

“We should take this to my room,” I breathe out. Crockett hummed in response, and I got off of his lap, tugging him off of the couch and towards my bedroom. As soon as we passed through the doorway, our lips found each other again, but only for a short while because Crockett had to distance himself from me to take off his shirt. Both of us then hopped onto the bed, and instead of the kisses getting rougher, they seemed to get more passionate. Crockett was hovering over me, his lips moving against mine with his hands planted on either side of my head. I cupped his face with my hands and deepened the kiss, enjoying the feeling of my lips on his. I pushed Crockett to my side, so now we laying face to face, and ran my fingers along his chest.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Crockett told me.

“Yeah? Then why’d you stop?” I question teasingly. Crockett smiled and took that as a challenge, leaning forward to kiss me as his finger slipped into the band of my sweatpants, pushing them down my legs. Once they were near my feet, I kicked them off of my body, and they fell to the floor long forgotten. After that, it was a mad scramble to take each others’ clothes off. Crockett’s pants came next, followed by my bra, and last but not least, both of our underwear. I was now on top of Crockett, and his arms were looped under mine, his hands resting on my shoulder blades. Every so often while we kissed, one of his hands would trail down my back and find a spot to rest near my butt. Having his hands on my bare skin sent tingles down my spine, and even though we hadn’t gotten to the actual sex yet, I was very much enjoying this. Crockett then wrapped his arm around me and turned us over so that he was now on top.

“You’re so beautiful,” Crockett mumbled and scanned my exposed body, a small smile gracing his lips. I chuckled softly and leaned up to connect our lips. However, just before things could get more heated, Crockett pulled away from me. “You sure you want this? I can stop if you’re not ready.”

“If I wasn’t ready, I wouldn’t have let you take off all of my clothes,” I retort. The grin on Crockett’s face grew even larger, and this time, when he leaned down to kiss me, he slipped himself inside of me. It only took a few seconds for me to adjust to him, and once I did, a wave of pleasure rolled over me. Crockett buried his face in my neck, leaving a trail of kisses on my skin that added even more passion to the intimate moment. As Crockett’s thrusts got deeper, it got even harder to contain the noises that spewed from my mouth. “Fuck,” I mumble and dig my nails into the skin on his back, my toes curling as well. I could feel Crockett smirk against my neck as he continued to rock back and forth, meaning his was enjoying this just as much as I was. For a moment, Crockett slowed his pace, and using one his hands, he reached down and started rubbing circles on my clit. Just as fast as he slowed down, he sped back up again, and between his thrusts and the feeling of his smooth hands against my skin, I was getting ready to explode. Crockett was also being a little too quiet, so I figured I’d change things up. I pushed Crockett off of me, and as soon as his back hit the mattress, I climbed on top of him.

“What was that for?” Crockett asked jokingly.

“A change of pace,” I say and slide myself onto him, my walls already adjusting to his size. Crockett let out a small moan as I rocked my hips back and forth, his hands finding a spot to rest on my waist. I bent down to get better access to his lips, and upon finding them, I tangled my fingers in Crockett’s hair and let him take over again. By now, Crockett had a pretty good idea of what I liked, and as he deepened his thrusts, more noise filled the room. Soon, it got to the point where I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and as pleasure racked my body, I moaned against Crockett’s lips and let myself loose. Crockett climaxed soon after I did, and for a few seconds, the two of us just laid there, not wanting to move. However, we had to clean ourselves up. Once that was done though, we both climbed back into bed, our bodies finding one another once again. “That was amazing,” I breathe out and press my body against Crockett’s side. In response, Crockett rested his hand on my hip and rubbed small circles on my skin with his thumb.

“Yeah. It was,” Crockett responded, his voice thick with his New Orleans accent. “This week has been hectic, and I’m glad it ended this way.”

“Me too,” I agree. “I’m happy to be in your arms.” For another moment or two, I was silent, but soon spoke back up. “So, I know we’re having this really intimate moment, but I’m starving. Want to order some pizza?”

Crockett laughed. “Sure. But after eating, can I stay for a bit? I don’t feel like leaving just yet.”

“If you can make me feel like you just did all the time, you’re welcome to come over and stay whenever you’d like,” I murmur. “Now, lets get some food.”

___________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #chicago med #chicago med x reader #chicago med imagine #chicago med imagines #crockett marcel #crockett marcel x reader #crockett marcel imagine #crockett marcel imagines #smut #x reader #imagine #imagines

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kleptosuperstar · 4 years ago

Text

hiii so uhh i really don't think anyone will see this because...i literally have one follower but im kinda making this for myself because me and my cousin are going to the mall and a few stores around the city in a few days SPECIFICALLY to lift and I made a list of things that we both want PLUS some tips for these stores seeing as I DO lift from most of them a lot sooo..yeah

SPENCERS: a moderately easy store seeing as there are TONS of blind spots and LP isn't employed. To top it off, cameras are never monitored, however they are low-hanging and somewhat high quality. Usually only 2-5 employees but the store is almost always crowded so if you find a blind spot it's a free for all. They wont chase but might call mall security.

What we want:

h20 piercing cleaner x2

toy cleaner

jojoba oil

hemp oil

septum and nose jewelery (we will actually have to purchase this, seeing as if you steal the jewelery they hand to you they WILL know you stole no matter what. Plus the packaging is riddled with RFID tags)

HOT TOPIC: Not that many blind spots, but employees usually don't care and rarely count clothing articles, which may have a tag or two, so check for those. Cameras are never monitored and the stores usually have a large layout so just watch out for customers and employees, find a blind spot and throw a bunch of shit into your bag They don't chase! :D.

What we want:

distressed thigh highs

over the knee thigh highs with bow

black fishnet lace thigh highs

black and white stripe arm warmers

black fishnet fingerless gloves

black floral tights

CLAIRE'S: whew lawd. I really really want to be helpful on this one but Claire's is a laughably easy place to lift from. No cameras, usually only 1 or 2 employees and if one is giving a piercing it's a free-for-all. THEY HAVE MIRRORS SO AVOID THOSE. My favorite blind spot there is behind the register if there is no one there, and that's all I have to say there.

What I want: (she doesn't want anything from Claire's apparently🙄)

Headphones

A tiara

Nail polish

VICTORIA'S SECRET: first of all lol, i feel ZERO shame in lifting from them. Please note that they do have cameras, and their SAs are trained to look out for shoplifters, however most of them are just confused college girls lol. Panties are NOT tagged. What I like to do is take a medium sized empty makeup bag and put it in my purse, and once I arrive to VS i put the makeup bag in the tote, I also drop my phone into the tote. I go around the store, picking out panties that are my size and i drop them so they can fall directly into the makeup bag. I do this with as many as I can fit into the bag and I do this with small makeup items as well. Once I'm done, I reach into the bag as if I'm looking for my phone (which i dropped in earlier) and that's the moment when i zip up the zipper of the makeup bag and pull out my phone immediately after and pretend to check the time and say something like "Damn, I gotta go. I'm late." Or something like that. Put the makeup bag in your purse and play around on your phone as you exit the store. And that's really it :) I rarely lift bras from there anymore so I can't REALLY help you there.

What I want:

a bunch of panties and some lip gloss!

BARNE'S AND NOBLES: I've never lifted from this place but I know friends who have. I'll give you the tips they gave me. There are cameras, and they are being monitored, but there are PLENTY of blind spots seeing as it is a very large store. The kid's section has no cameras tho, so if you're like me and look younger than you are, this could be for your advantage. No one expects you to steal when you're vibing in the kid's section. Most books have RFID tags, and hardcover books sometime have books engraved in the cover, so watch out for those. Most manga, some magazines, and just overall 99% of the books are tagged. Get what you want, flip through them and look for RFID tags while pretending to "read". If an employee sees you sitting down "reading" they won't suspect you unless they actually see you ripping out the tags. The worst that could happen is that they could ask you to move out of the book aisle so other customers can come through, if that happens, simply find another blind spot. Slip them into your bags like they're yours as SOON as you know they're rid of RFID tags. They won't chase, but probably will try to get you back into the store and if that doesn't work they'll try to get a license plate number or give your description to the police, neither usually goes anywhere tbh.

What we want:

fire force volume 1

fire force volume 2

fire force volume 3

fire force volume 4

Akame Ga Kill

Soul eater

Black lagoon

Kakegurui vol. 1

The seven deadly sins volume 1

Spy x family 1

Spy x family 2

Spy x family 3

Black butler vol. 1

Black butler vol. 2

Black butler vol. 3

Black butler vol. 4

Wotakoi vol. 1

Wotakoi vol. 2

Gangsta

Dictionary of witchcraft

The anatomy of the occult

Charms, spells, and formula

Moon spells

Gothic beauty magazine number 19

Nocturnal witchcraft

Necronomicon

The good witch's daily spellbook

A big book of practical spells

Any book on astrology

Gothic grimoire

Shingeki no Kyonin

Ulta: The second store I've ever lifted from. This store is easy, but not laughably. I feel like this would be a starter for babylifters. This store has mild LP, so watch out for those and NEVER EVER EVER conceal in front of customers, you should never do this in general but especially NOT in an Ulta. Get to your blindspot and make sure to detag depending on what you plan on lifting. Those mfs at Ulta tag like crazy. Put everything in your bag and remember to NEVER get too greedy at this store. They have a STRICT, VERY VERY STRICT no chase policy.

What we want:

better than sex mascara

lipstick

eyeshadow

makeup brushes

black liquid and stick liner

pink liquid liner (if they have it)

bronzer

brown eyeliner

eyeliner pencil

maracuja oil

any colorful eyeshadow pallate lol

WALMART: My walmart is so easy it hurts. Maybe about 5 cameras throughout the whole store to my knowledge, so the whole thing is basically a blind spot. The makeup aisle is heavily monitored tho so whenever I'm over there I make an effort to never look up to those cameras. Grab whatever you want/need and AVOID EMPLOYEES!!! they're everywhere. As well as customers. They are the two most annoying problems I've ever had lifting from a Walmart. I've noticed that aisles where you get things such as building materials are the most empty with no cameras. People usually only go to walmart because the food is cheap, so there are a lot of families who are usually only at one side of the store. Its rare that people ever need materials like those so seek out aisles like that to use as a blind spot. Wal-Mart doesn't seem to tag that many things, but ALWAYS check no matter what store you're at. If you're lifting something on the expensive side, just check for that.

What I want:

kinder buenos x2

sugar free monster energy

paint

paintbrushes

black lace

blue eyeliner

blush

nail polish

socks

THE DOLLAR TREE:

Pretty easy store tbh. The cameras are fake, and if they aren't they're never being monitored. I don't know about ALL layouts but mine has SO many blindspots it's crazy. If you're just looking for a snack, some makeup, or maybe a meal ? (Yes, you can get a whole meal if you lift enough stuff) then the dollar tree would be your place of interest. There are almost no employees walking around the store. There are usually only 2, and they switch between working at the registers and cleaning out the front of the store or whatever. Honestly this store is so easy just stuff shit in your bag lol. Even if you get caught they won't chase or call the police. Their stock is WAYY too cheap for that. I go there to steal candy or makeup brushes which is usually not worth paying for anyways so this is a beginner store. Knock yourself out ;)

What I want:

literally anything i see there that i want😭

welllll if you actually made it this far, thank you so much! I hope this helped someone and I hope one day I can make a master list of stores myself instead of just picking selective ones but this was all i was able to do :( i really REALLY hope this helped someone lmao just remember

✨ if its chain, its free reign✨

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gondowan · 4 years ago

Text

Communal Property

Pairings: Din Djarin x f!Reader, allusions to Paz Viszla x f!Reader, Boba Fett x f!Reader, other Mandalorians x f!Reader, big gangbang vibes here lads.

“I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

Tags/Warnings: NC-17. Explicit sexual content. Established relationship. Verbal humiliation. Dom/sub. Choking. Lots of finnnngerrring (vaginal/anal). Canon-typical violence (Din stabs a rando). Soup, but make it sexy. Daddy kink (ehe). Suggestions of a threesome, gangbang, public use, bondage, breeding, double penetration (if I missed anything please let me know), its fluffy at the end :D

Word Count: 4,709

Notes: <:3c please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with anything listed above lol. Seriously though.

---

It was getting late, and the only clientele left at the dingy cantina were either drunk and rowdy or on their way to out. Which was fine, it was rare for the two of you to have some time together and you relished every second you could get. Din had just bagged a large bounty for Karga, enough that he could be persuaded to take a short break. It had been far too long since the two of you could spend some time together without a bounty puck hanging over your head or fears of Imperials looking for the Child.

Besides, Sorgan was as quiet as it got, and with all the planet-hopping and close calls in the last few cycles, the two of you really hadn’t had any time to yourselves and you were getting a little...tense from the lack of release.

It wasn’t that Din ignored your needs, but rather you were both so caught up with everything that there was barely any time to sleep, let alone indulge in a long scene. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to both take care of the Crest, the Child, and yourselves while on the run. You could tell he too was tense from the lack of physical connection; from the moment you stepped planetside, he was constantly touching you, either guiding you with a hand on the small of your back or

Din was in a mood.

“What will it be?” the barkeep had asked when you both walked in.

Before you could open your mouth, Din replied “Some stew and cider for her please, nothing for me,” he said in a clipped tone, not bothering to look at you or even ask what you might want.

As the barkeep walked away, he turned his helmeted gaze towards you. “Any objections sweet girl?”

You felt your face get hot. “No,” you murmured.

He cocked his head to the side, waiting. He was in that kind of mood tonight. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the barkeep coming back to your table.

“No...daddy,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze away from him right as the barkeep put down your drinks.

“Let me know if you all need anything else!” she said cheerfully as she set your plate of food and drink in front of you, oblivious to what had just occurred.

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Din said, not even bothering to look at the barkeep. She must’ve thought you were mute or the two of you had an argument or something, the air between the two of you felt so charged. You hadn’t spoken a word since you two stepped in, and this armor-clad Mandalorian was basically bossing you around.

She walked away, and you reached for the soup.

“No.”

You blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m going to feed it to you,”.

If you weren’t embarrassed before, you were now. Although the two of you had conversations about taking your dynamic outside the bedroom, Din hadn’t tried anything outside the ship just yet. The two of you were constantly surrounded by others anyway (Cara, Mayfeld, Boba, etc), so there wasn’t much of a chance to be naughty in public.

Except now, you suppose. You should’ve known.

“Mando, we’re in public,” you hissed, looking around the cantina. It was crowded and loud, and you were in a corner booth, but there was still a nonzero chance that someone might glance over.

His vocoder crackled, “Just the first spoonful,” he said, dipping the spoon into the soup and raising it towards you. You knew better than to say no, not if you valued the ability to sit down comfortably tomorrow. If you were really uncomfortable, all you had to do was blurt out your safeword, and you knew he would stop.

You licked your lips, “Just the one.” You prop your forearms on the table and lean towards him, parting your lips, fervently hoping that no one would look towards your table. Din carefully tips the soup into your mouth, watching intently as you swallow.

“Good?”

You lick your lips, despite the (admittedly delicious) soup, your mouth feels dry, “Y-yeah,”.

“Finish it and we can leave,” to do what it is we really want to do, is the unspoken statement hanging in the air. He pushes the bowl towards you; you hastily grab the spoon, not even tasting it anymore. Din watches you eat, unmoving save for an impatient drum of his fingers on the table.

You relax a little, and ramble at Din about this-that-and-the-other to fill in the silence as you move onto polishing off your cider. Din says little in return but traces circles at your thigh, gloved fingers leaving a burning trial in its wake. Right as you are about to finish, a drunken man saunters over. You can smell the stench of alcohol rolling off of him. So much for a quiet night.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing with a tin can like that?” the drunkard giggles, pointing at Din. “Come with me instead, I can show you a great time, and you can see my face!”.

You sigh, so much for a quiet night, “I’m not interested, thank you,” you say with a clipped smile, turning away, hoping to the maker that he’d leave.

Unfortunately this idiot can’t read the room, “Awww, don’t be like that, I can-”.

“She’s not interested.” Din said, voice flat, gaze still directed at you, not even bothering to give the drunkard the luxury of his full attention.

The man scowls, throwing up his hands. “Whatever, she’s probably all used up. I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

The air got deathly still. Before you can turn to stop him, Din’s vibroblade is sticking out of this man’s shoulder. He screams, sobering up instantly, as Din twists the blade.

In a flash, the barkeep shows up, blaster in hand, “OUT! All three of you!”, she yells, “Sa’al, I told you if you were going to get in trouble for this shit one day. Don’t let me catch any of you back here again.”

You throw down a fat wad of credits at the table, face apologetic as Din pulls his knife out of Sa’al’s shoulder, returning it to his boot. Sa’al collapses and scurries away in pain, clutching his shoulder. Din calmly stands up, takes your hand in his and leads you towards the exit. You mouth apologies at the barkeep before stepping out into the cool night air. Sorry, my partner is...touchy tonight have a good night so sorry I’m so sorry.

You shiver, not looking forward to the long walk back to the Crest. Surprisingly, Din turns you in the opposite direction, marching you towards the inn.

“Don’t want to wait,” he says. “Besides, it’s getting cold, and I know you don’t like that,” he drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and despite the reaction he had at the bar, your heart feels warm, and you lean into him.

---

The inn is quiet, and you were lucky to get a larger room at the end of the hall. A bath would be nice, the refresher aboard the Crest did its job, but five minute showers really didn’t leave any time for luxuriating. Maybe you could MacGyver some bubbles and really indulge with Din.

Din however, has other ideas. He all but shoves you into the room, closing the door behind him and quickly doing his usual checks for cameras and recording bugs. Old habits die hard. Once he’s satisfied, he sits at the edge of the bed. He pats at his lap, gesturing for you to sit. This had become a bit of a ritual for the two of you, he would often decompress by holding you as you sat there, either in the cockpit or the sleeping quarters. You amble over, planting a kiss on his helmet, and sit down.

Din doesn’t say anything at first, just lays his head on your shoulder. You reach in between his armor to rub at the tense muscles on his back, and for a few moments, it’s just the two of you and the sound of his breathing out of the vocoder.

“You didn’t have to go so hard on the poor man you know,” you murmur as you massage the back of his neck. Din doesn’t move, just continues to hold you on his lap, head on your shoulder as he scoffs.

“I’m getting soft. Before I met you, old me would’ve killed him,” the voice underneath the helmet is deadly. He releases his hold on your waist and takes off his helmet, immediately peppering kisses along your mouth. You knew he wasn’t lying, he had done worse--for less. “No one talks to my girl like that,”.

“It’s fine, you dealt with him. My honor remains intact, I swear.” you giggle as his lips reach a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. Except the idea was enticing. Maybe you could bring it up another time, when Din wasn’t fresh out of nearly killing someone for saying that. The idea of being sandwiched between two Mandalorians was...tempting. You squeeze your thighs together, willing the thought away as you card your fingers through his hair. For someone who routinely kept it covered, it was so, so soft, and one of your favorite parts about him. Din still kept his helmet on more often than not, so you relished every chance you could get.

His mouth wanders to your collarbones, hand reaching into your shirt, fingers smoothing over your nipple.

“Although Din--ah,” your breath hitched as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, “What was that with the soup?”

“You didn’t like it?” his voice is muffled as he sucks a bruise onto your shoulder.

You loved it actually.

“Need to make sure babygirl has enough energy for Daddy,”. He continues to play with your nipple as you fuss around his lap.“Although...you averted your eyes earlier sweet girl,”.

You whimper, body tensing. Shit. That had one been one of the rules he had laid out for you at the very beginning. Eye contact whenever you were playing. Din loved it because it made you embarrassed to have to admit to your desires to his face and it put you in an almost automatic submissive mindset.

“Are you ashamed of being my baby girl?” he murmured, catching your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his. You knew it was a trick question, you could never be ashamed of the relationship the two of you shared. It had grown from just business to more, and despite the near-constant danger, you never wanted to be away from him, and you knew Din felt the same.

“Of course not,” you sigh. You could never be anything but happy to be his.

“Then why did you look away from me?” he asked, keeping your chin in a gentle grip, looking at you fondly, a smile of wicked pleasure gracing his handsome features. His voice was calm, and he maintained an innocent demeanor even as his other hand drifted away from your breast onto your thigh, squeezing gently.

“I was just caught off-guard, we were in public,”. You braced yourself for what you knew was coming-- punishment.

The other hand that had been trailing along your thigh paused, prompting you to freeze. “Well, it looks like you need to be taught a lesson. Always be ready for me, kitten.”

“I think five is good,” he releases your face, hands roaming to your bottom, groping as you let out a shuddering breath, “Remember to count them”.

You burrow your face into his shoulder, holding on tight. Din keeps his gloves on, knowing that you have a special fondness for being spanked while he was wearing them. The leather just adds that extra touch.

The first hit takes you by surprise, and you buck into him, feeling the sting of his hand.

“O-one.”

The second and third hit right next to the first, causing you to moan into his neck.

Din rubbed the growing warm spot on your asscheek, “You should be in a museum kitten, your body is a masterpiece,” he growled, “Almost makes me feel sorry to hurt you.”. He lifts his hand away and you close your eyes, bracing yourself.

“But not quite,”. The next hit has you whimpering.

“Four.” you manage between clenched teeth.

He murmurs, “Last one okay? You’re doing so well.” You steel yourself, knowing that this one will be the most painful. You loved it when he was cold and domineering, playing with your body, inflicting both pain and pleasure at his desire, extracting whatever he needed out of you.

Din’s hand comes down, hard. You cry out, shifting forward with the force, but are caught by his chestplate.

“Five!” you call out, relieved. “T-Thank you Daddy,”.

Din kisses your cheek, phrases of adoration and love filling your ear. He moves you off his thigh, pushing you onto the bed in one swift motion. You land with a soft ‘oof’, getting up on the back of your forearms to look at him.

Din hurriedly takes off the rest of his armor and looms over you on the bed, arousal rolling off his body in waves. His palm reaches down between your legs. “Babygirl...you’ve already made a mess.” Din pulls at the crotch of your panties, feeling the wetness that has seeped through. He yanks them off, making a big show out of sniffing them, all the while maintaining eye contact with you as you squirm under him.

“Is this all for me sweet girl?”. You nod feverishly and Din groans, as he inhales deeply again, your ruined panties pressed right against his nose, “It’s too good--I should just keep your pussy under lock and key.”

“Did the spanking get you all riled up?” he asks, the curve of his cock visible even through his pants, making your mouth water.

“Or…” his voice drops precipitously, “Were you thinking about being passed around?”

Damn, of course he’d know. Your eyes widen and you swallow, stomach twisting.

Din grins as he continues to let his hands caress your hip, “Was that it? Is that what you want? Passed around and used up by a bunch of Mandalorians?”

You whine, biting your lip, refusing to give him the pleasure of confirmation.

A sharp slap across your nipple brings you back to reality. “Answer me.”

You nod, lips parting, unable to answer as Din pushes a finger into your mouth and across your tongue. You lap at his finger, pleased at the subtle shiver that goes through him. He adds a second finger, reaching deep into your mouth, making you gag as you garble out an affirmation.

Din grins ferally. “You know I could call up Paz and Boba, let them take turns on you”. You shudder, the thought of sucking Boba’s cock while Paz worked your pussy was hot. You hadn’t done more than exchange a few conversations with the two of them, but you knew that Din would trust them with his life, they were his vod. Paz was the biggest one and you knew he wouldn’t take it easy on you. Boba, however, would be brutal, possibly even more so than Din.

“Although I don’t know babygirl, I’m not sure I can share your pussy-- maybe I’ll keep my cock in your pussy and the others can take turns on your ass and mouth, keep you airtight and so full. Would you like that baby? Be stuffed full of cock?” Din hums as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. The image he’s painting in your mind is disgusting and oh so good, you imagine yourself straddling Din as his cock fills your pussy, holding on for dear life while Paz eases himself into your other tight hole and you choke around Boba’s length, utterly debauched.

Din pets your cheek, soft gesture contrasting sharply with the utter filth coming out of his mouth. His hand finally reaches down towards the apex of your thighs, knuckle grazing up and down your folds. “We better train your asshole then, don’t want Paz or Boba to hurt you,” your heart flutters, filthy images of you on your knees plugged up making your blood pound.

“That’s Daddy’s job after all.” he says absentmindedly, eyes laser focused on your pussy as he briefly dips his finger even lower, just barely skimming across your other hole.

“Look at you,” he says, admiring the way you shudder as he inserts his fingers into your pussy, you’re so turned on you can hear the squelch as he pushes in. “Knew you were a greedy slut since the first day I set eyes on you.”

You keen under his touch, mind flying high, pussy throbbing as you move your hips into his hand. “I’m your greedy slut Daddy,”

“Yeah you are, sweet girl.” Din says fondly. You wonder how it is that you’re already this close even though he’s barely started to finger you.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” you whimper, reaching for him. Din hums and puts a knee on the bed, leaning over, chest pressed against yours, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You pull him closer, needy for more of him as you wordlessly beg for more. He nips at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in, never minding the mess of saliva.

“Never thought you were that much of a whore,” he hisses against your neck, teething grazing along the line of your skin as you tilt your head back to allow him better access. His fingers continue to work their magic on your slick folds, and you’re pretty sure you’ve made a mess on the bed already, and dear maker, he hadn’t even made you cum yet.

“Alternatively…”. Din stands up, mouth leaving yours and withdrawing his fingers as well. You whine at the loss of sensation. He nips at your breast before reaching down to pull his pants down. You swallow, chest heaving as you part your legs further for him. Din rubs the head of his cock on your clit,

“Spread yourself,” he orders with a sharp smack to your inner thigh. You scramble, reaching down to give him better access. Din lets out a moan at the sight of your dripping pussy and your debauched dreamy expression, fresh bruises adorning your neck and chest, all his doing. He loved the way you folded under his touch as if you were made for him, always so sweet and anticipatory of his needs. A beautiful complement to his twisted desires. The thought of it made his heart swell. He was never going to let you go.

Din makes an appreciative noise as you follow his command, lining himself up with your wet hole. You’re breathing so hard in anticipation that you feel light-headed, “Or...I could take you back to the Covert, let everyone else have a turn at you,”

Before you can fully register what he said, he pushes deep into you with one fluid motion of his hips. You squeeze down on him, grateful for the pressure and the way he fills you up every time like he was made for you.

“We could get your implant taken out, make you take all of our loads in your pussy. All of our cum mixing together.” You moan, head dropping back, shuddering as he continues to thrust, bottoming out, not giving you any time to breathe let alone think.

“Would you like that babygirl? Naked in the middle of the Covert for all to see?” you scramble to hold on to his arm, legs circling around his back. You squeeze around his length, getting close, but you don’t dare to cum without his permission.

“D-daddy…” is about all you can muster out, eyes looking at his face but unseeing as he continues. You pull at the arm he’s been using to brace himself against the bed, gesturing at him to put his hand around your neck. He obliges with a small laugh, the span of his palm encompassing your neck, lightly resting his hand there and not squeezing, yet.

“Close baby?”

You tremble, “Y-yes Daddy fuck, please may I--”

His hand returns to your clit and he presses down, taunting you, “You’re close already? If you cum, you acknowledge that you’re a filthy slut who needs Daddy to keep them in check. Is that what you are? A whore for Daddy?”. The hand on your throat squeezes just right and you can’t hold on any longer.

“Always Daddy f-fuck.” you cry out as you curse, feeling your release overtake you as Din fucks you through your orgasm.

“What do you say,” he snarls, ignoring your attempts to scramble away from the overstimulation of his cock and fingers.

You blink and take a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me cum Daddy.” You’re past the point of embarrassment at this point, he has you wrapped around his finger, all mental filters long gone.

You can see Din’s jaw clench before he pulls out quickly and you whimper at the loss of sensation. He flips you over and pulls your hips up. He huffs out as he pushes himself back in, chasing his own pleasure this time, nailing you to the bed and all you can do is continue to take it. Your mind swims as you let out a sob; you’re so deep in a trance that you barely register his finger at the edge of your asshole again. He pushes in slowly, first knuckle breaching the tight ring of muscles as you tense up around his thick finger.

“I knew you would love being the Covert slut; you always need so much to be satisfied,” he sneers, voice dropping even lower as he continues to mock you as his thick cock continues to work your hole and his finger fully breaches your asshole. “Maybe we won’t stop until we’re sure you get pregnant huh? You won’t ever know who the father will be since you won’t ever see their faces.”

You’re nonverbal at this point, your litany of ‘yes Daddy’ and ‘more please’ muffled by the pillow.

“I guess we’ll just have to hope it looks like me huh?”. You groan, too overcome to do anything but moan.

“Gonna give us warriors babygirl?”. Din snaps his hips particularly hard, you’ll be feeling the smack of his thighs against yours in the morning.

You can feel yourself getting closer, the combination of the obscene image he had planted in your mind coupled with the press of his cock at your back and the fullness of his finger in your asshole was getting to be too much. You grip the sheets in a vice grip, mind falling into the web Din painted, of you on your knees, collar tied to a post, all your holes dripping with cum while the other Mandalorians all take a turn at you. So filthy, and you love it. You know nothing would please Din more than your complete and utter submission, and if that involves the entire covert or Paz and Boba, so be it.

Din’s hand comes back up to your throat, and squeezes, playing with your breath right as his other hand inserts a second finger inside your asshole. You clutch at the hand wrapped around your neck, feeling your head swim, closing your eyes as you bounce up and down on his cock.

He growls, biting into the shell of your ear, “Aww baby are you drooling?” he smears your spit across your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, you’ve only cum once, and all of this is already making you cockdumb. Might have to call Paz and Boba in after all.”

You could only mewl in affirmation, mind floating, body only anchored by the points of contact made by Din’s hand on your throat, his cock in your pussy, and his fingers in your ass. You feel so good being used like this.

“I love it when you’re like this babygirl, so helpless for Daddy,” Din growls in your ear. His eyes are hooded as he chases his own orgasm, the rhythm of his hips becoming more erratic.

“I-I--” your tears break free, running down your cheeks as you struggle to form coherent words.

Din is unaffected, unrelenting in his thrusts against your walls. “Tears aren’t your safeword babygirl. You can do better than that.”

You manage a moan, barely registering his words, cries reverberating around the room as he knocks the breath out of your lungs with each thrust. “Tell Daddy you love this.” he hisses.

“I-I fuck, oh, oh, iloveitdaddypleaseplease,” you struggle to find enough breath to answer him, mouth dry from all your panting, Din’s hand unrelenting across your throat.

“I know you do baby. Is it getting hard to breathe? It’s okay, Daddy’s got you,” his voice full of pride as he rails you, splitting you open, filling the room with nothing but the sound of his cock moving in and out, his hips slapping against your ass. “So good for Daddy fuck-- I’m gonna-- this pussy is too good--such a good girl for me.”

His words fill you with warmth, and you squeeze your pussy against him right as he pulls out. Din moans, his hand letting go of your throat, looking for more leverage as he gets closer to his own completion. “Make a mess all over me babygirl, it’s o-okay I got you,”. You wail and sob as he pushes you over the edge again. All you can hear is your garbled ‘thank you Daddy thank you’ as you thank him devotedly over and over again. All the tension drains out of you, leaving you boneless on the bed, only held up by the fingers still in your ass and his cock.

“S-shit. You made a mess all over me f-fuck, oh fuck.” Din groans as he finishes inside you, filling you with warm cum. He pulls his fingers out and collapses on top of you. Din places his head against yours, peppering kisses all over you as he pulls out, his cum oozing out of you. It’s quiet as you both catch your breath.

You open your eyes blearily, “Fuck.” is about all you can manage before giggling, the endorphins making you feel so good. You can feel Din smile as he lifts himself up, pushing you back on your back. He looks ethereal, hair sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his body as he gazes at you fondly. You reach up and caress his face and he leans into your touch.

“How do you feel?” he murmurs, warm brown eyes on yours, laying a kiss on the back of your hand; ever the gentleman when he wasn’t busy degrading you at your request.

You stretch languidly, a little sore, but no more than usual. “I feel great actually. And you?”

Din smiles softly as he caresses your face, “Never better,”. You love all these aspects of him, the bounty hunter, the Mandalorian, your lover. Nothing made you happier than getting to share these moments with him. The two of you lay there for what feels like eternity, happy, sated, no concerns, just kissing each other softly, coming down together. You feel your eyelids close.

His voice brings you back from the edge of sleep. “Sweet girl...we need to clean up,”.

You blink at him blearily, “Ah right...I made a mess,”.

“We made a mess,” he chuckles, pulling you up into his arms (how did he still have all that energy?) before depositing you in the tub and turning on the warm water. Right as the water covers your shoulders, he gets up.

“Where are you going? The water is niiiiice.” you say as you make a big show of sinking into the bath. “Although not as nice as your ass.”

He smirks, “I need to send a message to Paz and Boba. Got exciting news for them,” he says as he turns towards his discarded armor.

Your eyes widen. Wait what?

---

I regret nothing lmfao. This is 100% me procrastinating from the fact that I have six months to finish writing my dissertation nbd. The line “you should be in museums” and “pussy under lock and key” is from Megan thee Stallion’s Sex Talk and Dance respectively. As always, comments/reblogs/keysmashes are always appreciated and give me much serotonin :)

Might do a part two with actual Boba and Paz but there are only so many euphemisms for cock that I know of ahaha.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #paz viszla x reader #boba fett x reader #mono writes

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reinerispretty · 5 years ago

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt15

hehehe hiiii thank you so much for reading!! i hope you guys enjoyed the last part and this one! :) this one is more of a filler chapter!! we’ll get back to the good stuff in the next one :D

pt1

pt14

pt16

“I wanted to say sorry, again. When I left the Fire Nation, I didn’t want to see you because I didn’t want to see your disappointment. I was worried that maybe your father had said something that had made you change your mind about me.”

(Y/N) had taken time bathing herself that night. The houses of the royal families were incredibly elaborate, so each room had its own bathroom. The water that ran from the taps was cold, since usually there was at least one firebending servant that would run around to heat the water. That night, (Y/N) was the firebending servant for her friends. Once she had heated everyone’s water, she trudged up the stairs to her own bathroom and began preparing her bath.

It had been a long time since she had had a bubblebath. Luckily, she remembered where the servants used to put the soap and added an outrageous amount of hot water in the tub. Once the bubbles were to her liking, she slid inside and released a content sigh.

The events of the day had eased the turmoil in her heart. While she was still recovering from the hurt that Zuko had caused her, the anger had subsided tremendously. (Y/N) could feel the tension that had been in her muscles ever since Zuko joined their group ease away as the hot water seeped into her skin.

She didn’t know how long she had been in there, but the moon was high by the time she stepped out to dry herself off. She took one of the fluffy robes from the closet and wrapped herself in it. It felt a bit stiff, like it hadn’t been worn in a while, but it gave her some comfort. It reminded her of home.

A knock resounded against the wood door to her bedroom. Quickly, she opened it, revealing Zuko standing awkwardly in the hallway.

“Oh,” she said. “Hi.” She still felt guilty from their fight earlier. She had gotten so angry and lost control, something she had never done before. She felt no better than the Fire Lord himself.

“Hi,” Zuko said. He looked past her and into her room. “I noticed you picked your old room.”

“Yeah, it’s the only one that felt comfortable.” She gave Zuko a weak smile. “Don’t tell Aang that he’s in Azula’s.”

Zuko laughed his raspy, beautiful laugh. (Y/N’s) heart felt uncomfortable in her chest. Like it had grown too big.

“It’s weird,” she continued. “Being back here. Everything was so different the last time I was here.”

“Yeah,” Zuko agreed. “I know the feeling.” She knew that the last time he had been here was when he was still with Mai. He had visited the island with her, Azula, and Ty Lee. A reunion had happened, of sorts. Minus (Y/N). “Can I...come in?”

She nodded, stepping to the side. He walked directly to the chair in front of the vanity, which was all the way across the room from where she would go to sit on her bed. The distance between them felt like miles.

“My father could never do that, Zuko.”

“I know. And I think back then, I knew that too. But then I saw you with the Avatar, and we didn’t have the reunion that I wanted. It just made me so mad that you were fighting with the person that was preventing me from going home. I was so angry after we would fight. I felt like you were picking him over me. Then in Ba Sing Se, when you came to visit, I know I didn’t look like it, but I was so happy that day. But then underneath the palace, you were fighting against Azula and I. I had worked it into my head that you and Uncle were traitors. The entire time that I was back home and you were in prison, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something wrong. I walked around the halls of the palace and it all felt fake, like something was missing. Now I realize that I had been wrong about everything. While I know it doesn’t excuse it, I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am.”

(Y/N) blinked at him. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Never in a million years would the Zuko she knew have expressed his thoughts so clearly. A lot had happened to them, to the both of them, since they had last been together like this. He had grown and changed into someone who learned from his mistakes and sought to rectify his wrongs. She hadn’t let herself see that when he first joined them.

“I forgive you.” Her voice was soft, but her gaze was piercing. Zuko felt like she was staring straight into his soul. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you when you first got here.”

“You had every right to be.”

“I didn’t, though. Even when I was at my angriest with you, I couldn’t truly believe that you were evil. Believe me, I tried. Everything that you did to hurt my friends and I should’ve made me hate you, but it didn’t. I think that it made me mad that I couldn’t fully be mad at you.” She bent her head down and looked at her hands. “I should have never, ever challenged you to an Agni Kai, Zuko. I was just so upset and once I started saying it, I just couldn’t stop. I would never actually want to hurt you.”

“I know, (Y/N).” They stood at the same time. “It’s nice to be here. With you. When I was here before it felt...” He trailed off, leaving his sentence incomplete.

She smiled. “As surprising as this sounds, it’s good to be back.” Zuko smiled.

“I’ll uh, be in my room if you need me.” She nodded, shutting the door behind him as he walked out. She dressed in her pajamas and crawled into bed, turning on the side to face the empty wall. If she pretended hard enough, she was a kid again. Life was easy and all she had to worry about was mastering her newest firebending move.

When she came downstairs the next day, Sokka was practically begging the entire group to go see a play about their lives. “C’mon!” He said. “It’ll be fun. We deserve to live a little!”

And while the last thing (Y/N) wanted was to watch a play about herself, she came along anyway. It would be a lot better than sitting in the beach house by herself. The old memories that came flooding back whenever she turned a corner were too much sometimes.

Despite coming to the island nearly every summer when she was younger, (Y/N) had never been to the theater. Her father and Zuko’s were always far too busy to deal with such frivolous things (meaning their children).

They had chosen balcony seating, but who to sit next to was a serious question that was bothering (Y/N). The only open seats were by either Zuko and Sokka and while her relationships were improving with both, she wasn’t sure if she could spend two hours sat next to them. So she grabbed Aang by the shoulders and shoved him down into the seat next to Zuko. She took her own seat on the other side of Aang.

“Thank you,” She whispered to him as the lights dimmed. Aang furrowed his brows in confusion and then shrugged.

At the start of the play, (Y/N) was enjoying herself. Aang’s actor portrayed him as an idealistic child, which made her laugh. Katara’s character was always wailing about hope and Sokka’s was a bit cringy, but so was Sokka. But then, her character appeared on-stage.

The actress portraying her tripped over her baggy Earth Kingdom clothes as she stumbled into Sokka’s character. “Wow,” Fake (Y/N) swooned, her eyes wide. “You’re so handsome!”

(Y/N) shrank into her seat, hiding her face from her friends as they turned to look at her.

“I live an amazing life up in my father’s mansion in this city. I have everything I could have ever asked for, but I am very selfish!” Her character smiled and put her hands on her hips. “That’s why I’ve decided to betray the Fire Nation and help the Avatar!”

The audience booed at her. Throughout the rest of the play, all her character did was cry over how unfairly she had been treated by her nation. “And then!” Her character exclaimed. “They gave me bananas instead of the apples I had ordered from the servants!” Fake (Y/N) burst into tears. She did that a lot.

When her character and Zuko’s encountered each other, her character burst into tears again. “Zuko! My one true love, who was taken away from me by the wretched Fire Nation! I am so happy to see you!” Her character leaned in for a kiss, but he pushed her face away.

“I don’t talk to traitors!” Zuko’s character declared. This made Fake (Y/N) cry even harder.

“Why--doesn’t--h-he---want--m-me?” Her character said between sobs.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and was so thankful when intermission arrived. She was the first out of her seat and waited outside the theater for her friends.

“Wow!” Sokka said as he exited the theater. “That play’s amazing. So accurate! Except, my guy could use a few pointers.”

“Accurate?” Katara scoffed, crossing her arms. “I beg to differ. My character is nothing like me.”

“Sure,” Toph snorted.

“I agree with Katara,” (Y/N) said, her face contorted into a frown. “I’m not anything like that character.”

“Are you sure about that?” Toph asked with a smirk. (Y/N) punched her in the arm, her face turning red as she glanced at Zuko. He gave her a small smile.

The play was all lies and she knew that. It took the most exciting parts of their adventures and amplified them for the stage. She knew she didn’t cry that much and she certainly had never called Zuko her one true love. Not out loud, at least.

---

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie , @haylaansmi , @jada-cleo , @boxofteenageideas , @disgruntled-gay , @lie-ana , @jasmine-the-amazing , @svsoftie , @buckysfeet , @anime-simp , @imcravingyou , @rosetheshapeshifter , @alrightberries , @izzieserra , @hstott , @random-stupid-stuffs , @jackbamexpress , @jainaixo , @thefoxskinwalker , @kryptidkova , @bigbuckyenergy , @omgwhattheeven , @ohmigooosh , @snapchatisoverrated , @inlove-maze , @harapirena , @sooske , @sweeetteaa , @selenvx , @ilovespideyyy , @saaaasib , @mochminnie , @agentsofblinks , @happyariesbabey , @slytherky , @uglipotata72829 , @og-disaster-bi , @animeluver23

#avatar #atla #zuko x reader #aang x reader #sokka x reader #toph #katara #aang #zuko #sokka #azula #iroh #momo #appa #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

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dessarious · 4 years ago

Text

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt88

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

By the time Selina exited the bathroom in her street clothes Chloe had tucked Mari in, sent Damian a ‘thanks for the heads up asshole’ text, fed the Kwami, notified Luka and the Kwami that they’d be dealing with any issues for the next few days, and was currently calmly filing her nails waiting for the front desk to send up the room key. She didn’t look up as the woman walked back in the room but could feel her eyes on her.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I shouldn’t have just shown up in costume without making sure you were aware I was coming and I shouldn’t have made assumptions about who you were outside of being a hero. Apparently Bruce left out a few things when he explained the situation to me. And he most likely didn’t mention to the boys that I could be showing up early.” Chloe glanced up at the woman and saw real sincerity. She looked at Marinette’s sleeping form and could practically hear the girl’s voice in her head telling her to be nice.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” And she was. Everyone expected her to be someone else. Her parents expected the perfect daughter. Her class expected a first class bitch. The public only saw a spoiled little rich girl. She’d always played to people’s expectations rather than herself to the point that if you asked Chloe wouldn’t be able to tell you who she was. Marinette was changing all that, but she still didn’t have a clue who she was under all the bluster and snobbery. “It’s not your fault either and Mari would kick my ass if I were less than civil. We can start over tomorrow when tensions aren’t so high and we’re all rested.”

“That… sounds like a good idea.” Chloe watched as the woman frowned thoughtfully at Marinette. “She’s very observant.” Chloe let out an amused snort.

“You have no idea. It’s worse when she’s awake because you know she sees more than everyone else but she keeps it to herself. It’s maddening wondering what she saw that you didn’t.” It had absolutely nothing to do with her being Ladybug either. Marinette had seen and heard more than everyone else for as long as Chloe could remember. Honestly it might have been the look of pity the girl gave her the first time her parents didn’t show up for something that started Chloe on her vendetta when they were little. Everyone else believed her when she said her parents were too busy to attend some tiny school assembly. Somehow, Marinette knew she was lying. Every time Marinette looked at her after that she’d felt like she was under a microscope.

“I live with ‘the world’s greatest detective’ so I’m used to that feeling. Granted Tim’s worse in that regard but Bruce is so uncommunicative you know he’s got things in his head you’ll never be able to pry out.” Chloe gave a non committal hum. She hadn’t been that impressed with the man during their encounter, but he had been squaring off against Mari so both that comparison and the fact she was in protection mode may very well have colored her perception. Okay, it definitely colored her perception.

“That will help. Plus Mari’s gotten a lot better at hiding it when she figures things out. That comment about why Damian doesn’t like you would never have come out, she just would have started subtly nudging the pair of you into some form of tolerance without you noticing. She probably still will actually.” Definitely with Damian. His obvious intolerance of someone so important to his father was bound to make her do it even if Selina was the most obnoxious person alive. Mari couldn’t help herself. If she thought it was broken, she fixed it, and Damian had become her pet project.

“I’m not that easy to manipulate.” Chloe could only smirk at the woman.

“I assure it won’t matter. With no planning she got Bruce to agree to leave Damian in Paris. Trust me, when she decides something needs to change, it does. I’m a prime example of that.” That was probably not the best way to say that. Mari had a tendency to push people towards what would make them happy. With Chloe it had changed over the years and she hadn’t even realized what was happening. Mari was the one who got her to think about running for class representative originally. At the time her father was in the middle of a reelection campaign and she’d wanted to be just like him. Mari was also indirectly responsible for her push to get Adrien out of homeschooling. All it had taken was a few well placed comments. It was honestly scary how easily she could manipulate people. And it was amazing that she actively tried to only help people when she could do so much damage.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Honestly if she can get Damian in anyway on board with my relationship with his father it would be a tremendous relief. I know we’ve had a… fairly rocky relationship for a long time, but we’re both finally at the point where we can accept each other for who we are. But if Damian is completely set against it, I don’t think Bruce will risk alienating him to stay with me. It hurts knowing that, but I understand. Especially given all they’ve gone through. Bruce won’t risk losing a child that way.” Chloe could help but frown at that. She couldn’t imagine either one of her parents denying themselves something just to keep her from leaving. She was actually pretty sure her mother would auction her off to the highest bidder for an exclusive on the next hottest thing in fashion. Her father would sell his own soul to stay in office so she didn’t imagine he’d flinch at tossing her out if she became a liability.

“He sounds like a decent man.” Bruce Wayne’s public image was terrible but she knew better than most how deceptive that could be. Selina was giving her a concerned look. Crap, her thoughts must have shown on her face. She really was tired if she was having trouble keeping a neutral expression.

“He is, no matter how hard he tries to pretend otherwise. He wouldn’t have given me so many chances if he weren’t.” She glanced at Mari. “I have a feeling you’ll understand what I mean.” Chloe just nodded. Mari had given her chance after chance, as both herself and Ladybug. If she hadn’t who knows where she’d be right now. “People like that are rare, but they also don’t stick with lost causes. If you or I were a hopeless case they wouldn’t have put the effort in.”

“She’s right you know.” Tikki flew over from the bed to land on Chloe’s shoulder. “There was always a hero in you. You just needed to know it was okay to be that person instead of who you were raised to be.” That got an even more concerned look from Selina.

AO3 Beginning Previous Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@noirdots @valeks-princess @chocolatecatstheron @krispydefendorpolice @bee-wrecker @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @northernbluetongue @paradoxal-occurance @scrumptiouslyelegantchaosqueen @sonif50 @thequestionablyhuman @persephonebutkore @elspethshadow @geekydragonyt @mmwolf1605 @da-tasuky @mjisntme @bluerosette23 @anjuschiffer @littleredrobinhoodlum @tazanna-blythe @resignedcatservant @schrodingers25 @seraphichana @persephonescat @punstoppablechatnoir @magicalfirebird @crazylittlemunchkin @corabeth11 @cyborgcandy @casual-darkness @shamefullove @miraculous-simmer7 @tamoni112 @cat181818meow @littleblue5mcdork @allthebooksandcrannies @enchanted-nerd @disneyfoxuniverse @fallinginthe-void @mandy984 @goggles-mcgee @fontegagrilledcheese @dorkus-minimus @theatreandcomicfreak @zerotosiki @ayuchan07 @mindfulmagics @urbanpineapplefarmer @winter-gardenflower @mooshoon @my-name-is-michell @melicmusicmagic @7-sage-7 @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @alicesangelofmusic @caffeinetheory @nataladriana9 @multplelifes @wanderingreader1019 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mvaree @redscarlet95 @storyteller-d @howabouticallyou @ginamarie1512 @kurogaya913 @tbehartoo @maddrag @two-faced-biatch @senyahgirl @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @iloontjeboontje @kakashixobito @welcometopradasa @amirahevens @amlesi @miraculousbelladonna @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @cupcakeandkisses @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @book-r-the-best @dur55 @moonlightstar64 @fertileleaf @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @thecaptainthunder @danielslilangel @novicevoice @nyaabinch @interobanginyourmom @welcometopradasa @charlietheepic7 @im-here-for-the-content @maya-custodios-dionach @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @starwindmaden @tired-butterfly @rogueptoridactyl @emeraldpuffguide @suzen23smith @yuulxd @animegirlweeb @alovelyocean @kris-pines04 @semaalcocer-blog @cadencehood @jardimazul-blog @shethecat @silent-storms-posts @simplysslytherin @tog84 @thesunanditsangel @dast218 @tall-and-angry @the-alice-of-hearts @captainmac6 @theyellowfeverexperience @chrismarium @alessialeone6997 @heaven428 @tinyterror333 @smolplantmum @lilyellowink @naoryllis @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou @magewriter @doodledeerest @athena452 @peachedpocky @tired-butterfly @risingmoonyue @lunammoon @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @bobothyross @silvergold-swirl @loysydark @heaven428 @peachedpocky @hauntedwintersweets @awesome-starfish-and-tacos @silvergold-swirl @rosesgonerogue @castielsofficialtoothbrush @myazael @aestheticnpoetic @creator-josie @sturchling @snowstar1016 @myblacknightworld @kittycatwowmeow @midnightkaito @chylou34 @hufflejournals @indecisive-mess-named-me @uwuteamleader @sassakitty @jessigurl-design @demigodgirl20031 @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @elmokingkong @unknownvsworld @thatonegaybitchfromschool @tis-i-beanbandit @damianette-is-life @peachesbackup @nobodyw8s4evr @the-fusionist @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @chocolateherringtacofan

#maribat #bffmaridami #marinette dupen chang #chloe bourgeois #Selina Kyle

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hitsuackerman · 4 years ago

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.24

a/n: last of the fluff before we head back to the main arc :*

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 25

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19 @celestial-kanzakii @laure-lo @team-wang-puppy @aydience-world @choros-main-hoe @colorseeingchick @o-dragon05 @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“I’ll be back in about 30 minutes.” Chisaki said as he stood up from your bed. Pressing his palm against your forehead, he felt your fever had only worsened. The vomiting had stopped, which he was more than thankful for, but it was now replaced with fever and chills. Though Gei had stated this was normal and that you should be fine within a day or two, he was still advised to stay till the end of the week.

“You don’t have to, Chisaki.”

“It’s fine.” He waved off. “I have something to do as well.”

Which was true. Hearing that you were craving for onigiri that only that store sold, he took that opportunity instead of having to sneak out. With Kurono now on his way, the quicker they settle things the better. Grabbing his surgical mask, he put it on before stepping into the hallways.

Being extra cautious, he exited your building as if it were something he did often. The security guard merely tilted his hat as a bow before opening the doors. Checking the surroundings, he took out his phone and made his way toward the shop.

It only took about 10 minutes to reach Onigiri Atsamu. When he entered the small establishment, he was greeted by the cook and saw the white hoodie of his right hand man. Before taking a seat he ordered what you had been craving for and took a seat.

“The bullets are ready for testing.” Kurono said with his voice low. Reaching into his pocket, he placed a prototype between them. “Mimic also reported that the heroes are wondering why activity has been low lately. Overheard them saying they might send in more heroes to keep watch.”

“Good. Things should be back to the way they were next week.”

“How is she, by the way?” Kurono took a calculated risk. Strike up a conversation to make things look normal. Though, he was genuinely curious for the turn of events. Especially for that minute second where Kai’s eyes widened. “A pain in the ass?”

“On the contrary, things have been moving quite well.” He shrugged and stared at the man making his order. His black cap hung low enough to cover his face. “Recovery is fast and her friend would be more than pleased at the results.”

“Hmm…” Kurono nodded and quickly eyed his boss. “Aight. Well, that’s it for me. I shall take my leave.”

“Sit.” Overhaul spoke up.

Not expecting that sudden outburst, he sat back down and stared at the man across him. Was there a request he forgot to fulfill? Or was he not truly satisfied with the report he had just given? Every single fault he could have missed ran through his mind till a steaming plate of onigiri was served on their table.

“Order up ya two. Hope ya like it. Added a bit more ingredients since I’m already closin’ up shop.” The cook said as he fixed his hat. His droopy eyes complimented his dark hair.

“Eat up.”

“Eh?” Kurono’s eyes went from the rice ball to Chisaki and back to the rice ball. “I’d rather not. You have more than earned my respect but I do not like to be tested.”

“What are you on about?” Chisaki commented. His face morphing into disgust. “You like onigiris, right? Or have your taste buds changed these past few years?”

“You’ve gotten soft.” He had to comment before grabbing one and savoring the goodness. “Shit these are good.”

“Take your time. I’ll be taking my leave now.” Grabbing the to go bag, he adjusted his mask and left a rather confused but contented arrow-haired man. Recalling that rather shocking moment from last night, he cringed at the memory and exited the shop.

True to his word, he came back within his stated time frame. Expecting to find you still in bed, it was a confusing surprise to find the kitchen filled with sounds of chopping and the speaker softly playing music. Taking a look at the entryway, he saw your back busy with whatever it was you were doing. Putting the bag down on the dining table, he proceeded into the kitchen.

“You’re back~” You finished rolling the last of the sushi. “And right on time too.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.” He leaned on the counter and took his mask off. Tossing it to the counter, he looked at you once more. “What’s with the sushi? We already had dinner.”

“I, uhh, I made these for you.” You lowered your head in an attempt to cover your reddening cheeks. “As a thank you, for taking care of me. I know you were forced to do it but… I appreciate it. I could’ve done it myself and do just as fine b-”

“You’re rambling, problem child.” Tucking in your hair, his touch was as soft as the word could get. Seeing how you jumped a bit at the sudden contact made his chest tingle. It was weird, the sensation, yet your reactions were always worth it. “Don’t bother hiding your flustered face.”

“You can’t just command people to show courage.” You huffed and took a piece of sushi. It was rolled just right and the stuffing placed perfectly. Offering it to him, your heart picked up pace when he leaned down and ate it from your hand.

“One of the best. Not bad, problem child.” He smirked before heading out to take out the onigiris.

Blinking yourself back to life, you cupped your heated cheeks and shut your eyes. You didn’t take any medicine but these past few days, yet you’ve been bolder when it came to your advances.

Recalling the conversation you had with Gei (Of course you called Gei when he left to get those onigiris), your best friend had ushered you to make the most out of your time. If it meant making the move, then you should make your move because it’s the modern times. Nothing but his usual speech when it comes to luring men.

Except this person wasn’t just any man. He was Overhaul.

Then again, the way he casually takes his mask off or comes out of the guest room wearing a shirt and sweats will forever be sketched in your mind.

Arranging the sushi on a plate, you walked to the dining table and caught sight of the onigiris. Putting the plate down and sitting across him, you said thanks and immediately grabbed one. The taste of Atsamu’s Onigiri was always the best. The consistency of the rice was perfect, the filling just right, and the nori thick enough to sustain the weight of savory goodness.

“By the way, I’m feeling much better now. I guess it’s fine if you take your leave tomorrow. I’ll handle Gei. Don’t worry.” You spoke up after the last grain of rice had been devoured.

“Alright.” Chisaki replied as he observed your fingers fiddling with each other.

For a moment, the air between you two grew rigid. Not a single eye contact made. When you told him that you would take care of the dishes, he found himself walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

As he was brushing, he couldn’t help but think. It had only been a few days but he had adjusted rather well to your company. Sure, he still managed the Shie Hassaikai but it was with your knowledge and you respected it.

Finished with everything, he headed back to your room and stopped when he saw your figure waiting by the sofa. The faint tint of red on your cheeks made him question your motives. But mostly due to the hideous pink hairband you held in your hands. Taking slow and careful steps forward, he furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

“What in quirks name are you planning to d--” He was cut off when you hopped a bit and slid the hairband onto him so easily. His breath did a mini hitch when you pulled him down to your height and adjusted the band to pull back his hair.

“Keep your mouth shut, Chisaki.” You were beaming.

“And why should I?”

“Because I’m about to give you the best ‘thank you’ gift you’ll ever receive~” Before he could protest, you took a hold of his hand and dragged him to your bedroom. Pulling him in front of you, though he almost lost balance, you held on to his shoulders and pushed him till he found himself sitting on the floor by your bed.

Not sure what was bound to happen, he observed as you jogged towards your bathroom and came out holding a rather large sachet of something.

Sitting with a bit of distance, you opened the sachet and asked for him to turn around.

“What exactly are you planning, (y/n)?” He let out a sigh but followed instructions. With his back facing you, he did a small jump when he felt his body being pulled down. Realizing that his head was now resting on your lap, he couldn’t help but smirk at the circumstances. “Well, aren’t you unpredictable?”

“What can I say? Gotta keep you on your toes right?” Putting the mask on, you had to admire how long his eyelashes were. Not even Gei was blessed with that kind of length. With his eyes closed, you smiled to yourself. He looked so peaceful and much younger like this. “Give me your hand.”

“Not scared of me overhauling you?” He peaked and lifted his hand. Savoring the heat of your palms as you began to massage. He could get used to this, he kept to himself.

“Why should I be? You’ve fed me, saw my vomit, damaged and fixed my unit, and a whole lot of other shit. I trust you enough.” You replied effortlessly as your fingers kneaded his palms. “Besides, you saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”

Silence hugged the both of you for a few good minutes. By the time you finished massaging his other hand, you asked him to sit down and turn to face you.

“You can overhaul the face mask if you want, I’m gonna be throwing it anyway.” You told him and he did. This would have to be the third or fourth time you’ve seen his quirk in action but it still mesmerized you. “May I?”

“What will you do now?” He squinted his eyes but his actions showed something different. It had not occurred to him that he had scooted closer. When your hands cupped his cheeks and began to gently rub the remaining oils into his skin, he let out a long sigh.

“Stressed?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Once again, the foreign sensation hit his chest. The way you were massaging his face, the soft and careful movements you made, clouded his judgement. Seeing how your eyes widened when he held onto your hands was electrifying. Taking a deep breath in, he saw how your eyes landed on his lips… Not knowing that he mirrored your action as well. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“You know nothing good will ever come between…” The want to say the word ‘us’ had never been stronger, “This.”

“You’re right.” You looked away. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t indulge from time to time, right?”

Knowing this would lead nowhere, you slid your hands away from his and stood up. If there was one thing you needed, it was space and a good splash of cold water to your face. He was right. Nothing good would come whatever the hell was going on between you two.

“Heh.” You chuckled to yourself as you wiped your face. Rubbing your face as you stepped out of the bathroom, you opened your eyes to Overhaul sitting cozily on your bed. Fingers typing away in his laptop. The pink hairband still showing his pretty face. Glancing at the bedside table, he had also prepared your remaining medicine.

“I have made my decision.” He closed the laptop and put it away.

“Which is?” You adjusted your position and faced him. He was still seated but not too long before he too lay down.

“I’ll take my leave tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You gave him an earnest smile before turning around.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“It all depends on you.”

“Just say it.” He moved closer to your body. The mattress dipping behind you.

Facing him once more, you were met with blazing gold eyes that seemed to shimmer in the dimness of your room. Closing your eyes, you welcomed the brushing of his finger against your cheek. When you opened your eyes, blood came rushing to your cheeks at the closeness of his face.

“I want you to stay. But, my intuition tells me I have visitors tomorrow.”

“I can always come back when they leave.”

“I can’t risk them cornering you.” Taking his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his. Surprisingly enough he didn’t protest. “I think video calls will do the job.”

Pulling you closer, the small yelp that filled the room was music to his ears. Having your chests pressed against each other, he was sure you could feel the rapid beating of his heart. The fact alone that his heart was reacting this way only solidified his need. But you were right. The plans have been postponed, any more delays and things could go to waste.

“Okay. I’ll video call you.” Smirking at your widened eyes and red cheeks, he pulled your head to rest on the crook of his neck. “Good night, (y/n).”

- - - - -

-we have reached the final fluff chapter so be we will now be going to the Shie Hassaikai Arc :') -this story is now reaching 50% completion! -i hope you guys liked the drawing <3 lmao -thank you all so much <3 me and my fam are doing much better! we're scheduled for a swab test later in the day and our results will arrive 3 days from now! :')

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #shie hassaikai

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 9- Changes

Summary: Getting poisoned didn’t feel very nice, but alas the world moves on, and it needs the Umbrella Academy to find the source of its demise.

Masterlist - where all the other chapters are⚔️

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

You wake up with a jolt, memories from last night flooding into your mind, the wind, screaming, and the blood. Allison and Vanya, and that psychotic prick who stabbed you with a poisoned Swiss Army knife, evidently leading you to a gruesome couple hours of living through a half-death.

You look around the room, studying your surroundings as you lay on your back. You’re in your old bedroom in the Academy. Well that’s good, they got you here safe and sound. You sit yourself up into a seated position, leaning yourself against the headboard. You look down at yourself, sighing in relief as you realize that your clothing has been changed. You push the covers off of you, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed, you look down and notice your boots are nicely set out, patiently waiting for you. As well as your hooded denim jacket that’s hanging off of a nearby lounge chair. You stand up, grabbing your boots and pulling them on, while you hold onto the lounge chair. When you’re finished you hear the familiar footsteps of Diego creaking down the hallway towards your room.

You swiftly open the door just as he’s reaching for the handle, “I’m gonna assume you changed my clothes, so thanks for that.” You tell him quickly, as you hold the door open for him to step inside. “You have no idea how worried I was when you wouldn’t respond to anything we did. You just looked dead, but you were still breathing....uh...Klaus had to calm me down.” He rambles on, as you touch his arm to comfort him. “Leonard Peabody stabbed me with a poisoned knife as him and Vanya were leaving. I didn’t see it coming....He knows more about us then I realized, sick bastard new my weakness.” You growl, angry that you were blindsided by his gutsy yet calculated attack. It was honestly ballsy of him to just stand there so confidently like that. Of course he would, he knew what he was doing.

“Jesus, that’s horrible. It made me sick to see you in such a vulnerable state like that. You looked like you were in so much pain....Pogo said you had some type of venom or deadly poison running through your veins...and we’d have to wait it out.” He tells you, his voice on he verge of breaking, Diego’s a lot more shaken up then you’d first realized. “D, I’m right here. Safe and poison free.” You smile up at him, tugging at his sweater collar as you give him a sweet kiss on his plush lips. He instantly relaxes into your touch, wrapping his good arm around your waist and pulling you in closer. This intimate moment is fully needed and deeply appreciated, you’ve missed Diego even if you both haven’t seen each other for only a single day. You slowly pull away, another question surging through your mind.

“Uh, how are you not behind bars right now. I mean, last we saw each other cops were pulling guns on you?” You ask him curiously, he gives you another kiss in response.

“A friend of mine let me out, he knows I didn’t kill Patch. He’s still working on finding more evidence....but until then we have work to do.” You take in a deep breath, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Never a moment to rest, huh.....alright fine, let’s go downstairs.” You tell him, looking back up at him, his eyes flick down to your lips for a quick moment. You smile at how adorable he’s being without even realizing it, he smiles back unsure of what’s causing your joy.

“I like your shirt today, it’s really bursting with the autumn colors.” He chuckles at your teasing comment, giving you another pleasurable kiss. He happens to be wearing his black and blue sweater that you bought him for his birthday. That’s the legitimate most color you’ve seen on him in months, even though most of your clothing is considerably darker too, you still flash in a bit of color here and there.

“Come on, Five’s waiting in the main living room for us, he’s got a new game plan.” Diego tells you, still holding onto your waist. You take his arm wrapped around your waist and pull him away from you, he frowns until you bring him in for another heated embrace, before pulling away and squeezing his bum as you hastily walk out the door.

——

“The bastard that nearly killed Y/N and Allison is still out there, with Vanya. We need to go after her.” Explains Diego as Five paces back and forth in front of him, you, and Klaus. You’re sitting on the couch opposite of Klaus, the both of you listening intently to the plans.

“Vanya is not important” Grumbles Five, wanting to only focus on finding Harold Jenkins.

“Hey, that’s your sister. A little heartless even for you, Five.” Jabs Diego, actually sticking up for Vanya for once.

“I’m not saying I don’t care about her, but if the apocalypse happens today, she goes along with the other seven billion of us. Harold Jenkins is our first priority.” Replies Five, needing everyone to understand what’s really important. Diego looks away for a second to think, “I agree. Let’s go.” He answers with, making up his mind about what needs done first. You agree with the two of them.

“You guys count me out. I mean, you know, no offense or whatever. It’s just...I kinda feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly-sober me, so...” Klaus trails off, waving his hand in the air.

You get off the couch, standing in between Diego and Five, “Get your ass up, your coming with us.” You tell him bluntly, stating it as an order rather then a suggestion.

“No, no, no. I mean, I think we can all agree that my power’s...I mean, it’s pretty much useless. I’d just be holding you guys back.” He whines, really not wanting to budge.

“Klaus get up.” Demands Five dryly. Klaus frowns giving Five a bit of sass.

“You can’t make me.” A second later Diego throws a knife at him, landing it perfectly into the couch, right in between his open legs. Taking the not so subtle hint, Klaus begrudgingly gets up, “Oh, then again, a little exercise couldn’t hurt.”

——

Five pulls up to Harold Jenkins house, the same one that you, Allison, Diego, and Five broke into just the other day. You all get out of the car, making your way to the front door, you stop on the sidewalk catching a nasty whiff of something or someone that’s recently deceased. Oh shit. The others walk past you oblivious, you shake your head and continue forward. The door’s unlocked so its easy access, then when all of you walk into the house, you see him. Harold Jenkins himself, laying dead on the floor, with a hefty multitude of random kitchen knives piercing his torso.

“Gross.” You mutter, walking in closer as you cover your sensitive nose with your arm.

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting.” Says Diego, staring down in shock at the bloodied up dead guy in front of him.

“The understatement of the year.” Quips Five. “No sign of Vanya.” Adds Klaus, yeah, where is she?

“Let’s get out of here before I vomit or the cops show up.” You mumble, covering your nose with your shirt now, turning to leave, Diego and Klaus following.

“In a minute.” Says Five as he walks over to the dead body, taking off the eye-patch as he unwraps the glass eye he’s kept with him for a long time. “Come on, Five, what are you..” Starts Diego who goes to cover his mouth.

“That’s not...very sanitary.” You add as Five touches the bloody face.

“Same eye color, same pupil size. Guys this is it. The eye I’ve been carrying around for decades, it...It’s found its rightful home.” He says in awe, taking out the glass eye.

“We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse.” States Diego, half saying that as a question, not quit believing that this is it. “Yay! Let’s go.” Claps Klaus who turns to leave, Diego grabbing his green army vest to stop him from exiting the house. “No way, it can’t be that easy.” You tell Five, he stands up pulling out a piece of paper, “Look, this is the only note that I got from the Commission. The one that says -Protect Harold Jenkins- aka Leonard Peabody. But who killed him? Who did this?” Wonders Five.

“I have an idea...how about we ask Vanya..” Klaus begins as Five teleports away. Shit you were about to explain something very important to them. “I know who did this.” You interrupt Klaus, him and Diego’s attention snapping over to you.

“This is gonna sound wild, but trust me okay? Vanya has powers, she’s always had them....No one ever knew...because Reginald gave her those pills and had four year old Allison rumor her into forgetting. She’s wicked powerful too, and probably terrified.” You explain to them, their faces a mix of confusion, curiosity, and slight apprehension.

“What? Are you serious?” Diego asks you, you give him a small nod.

“She can throw things without touching them and she can make it windy when she’s upset, I don’t know what else, but she probably really needs our help right now. So let’s get out of here.” You urge, not a hint of a doubt in your voice, Klaus nods, believing you. Diego still looks a little unconvinced, “Trust me Diego, I saw everything. I have no reason to lie.” He looks up at you in understanding, deciding that even though he hasn’t seen anything yet, he trusts in your word.

——

“No sign of Vanya.” Says Five to you and Diego as the three of you walk side-by-side on the upstairs balcony, heading for the wooden staircase to get to the first floor. All of you have been searching around the Academy for a missing Vanya, but with no luck. “She’s not in any of the rooms.” Adds Diego, as Klaus comes into view. “She’s not downstairs either.” He tells the three of you. Not that you needed to be told she wasn’t in the Academy at all, if she was here you’d be able to smell her, but the boys went about to look anyways.

“Well, I’m out. Diego you coming?” You walk past the three of them, headed for the stairs.

“Wait where are you guys going?” Wonders Five and Klaus.

You turn back around, one hand still on the railing, “As long as Hazel and Cha-Cha are still breathing, I’m not gonna stop hunting them.” You explain to them truthfully, they look at you at a loss for words, but none of them make an attempt to stop you. “Y/N, I’ll be down, I gotta get some of my things first.” Diego tells you, turning down the other hallway. You nod, giving Five and Klaus a quick glance as you continue down the stairwell.

Deciding that you’d like to have a tiny shot of something strong first to help awaken your senses...well...possibly...eh who are you kidding you just need a drink. You maintain walking through the living room doorway, heading straight for the bar. You find a shot glass and something strong that will help satisfy your taste. As you’re preparing your drink, you eavesdrop on Five and Klaus’ argument in the front room, the conversation focused on how Five has an addiction to the apocalypse, he then smashes his glass eye against the nearby wall. Grumbling something else to Klaus before he briskly struts his was into the main living room and right up to the bar. You smirk at him, “Trouble in paradise?” He glares up at you as he sits on a barstool angrily, “You wouldn’t happen to know how to make a good margarita, now would you?” He wonders, honestly hoping you won’t disappoint. You take a quick shot, downing the tiny glass in one clean motion, enjoying the scratchy buzz of the cold liquid sliding down your throat. You set it down with a loud clank, “Yeah, I could do that.” He nods, giving you a tight lipped smile, as he goes to say something to Dolores who’s perched on the bar to Five’s right. You get the ingredients out, shoving ice into the blender and pouring in the important stuff.

Once finished, you grab three glasses. One for Five, you, and Dolores. Pouring out the cold neon green slushy, you grab a twisty straw and a tiny umbrella. Touching up the best margarita you’ve ever made, “It’s on the house.” You wink at him, sliding the glass over the counter with ease. He gladly accepts, sucking down the liquid as soon as it’s in his grasp. The both of you sit in a comfortable silence, each enjoying your own margarita.

“Y/N, do you think we really did it? Think we actually stopped the apocalypse?” He suddenly wonders out loud, you set your glass down, leaning yourself against the other side of the bar to better face him. “Hard to say. In my experience you should always be alert for anything. But I don’t know....something just doesn’t sit well with me yet. I can’t explain it.” You tell him, he furrows his brows thinking hard about what you just said. In all honesty, Five’s always considered you to be the most competent and level headed out of everyone. Although he may have only of known you for two years before he timetraveled. You did make a lasting impression, one that you’ve never realized. But then again, when does Five ever truly express any of his more deeper feelings?

Out of nowhere a random knock is heard at the door, both you and Five make knowing eye contact. “Eh, I’ll get it.” He turns around getting off the barstool, heading for the front door with a margarita still in hand. You can hear him open it, then someone speaks, who’s definitely not Vanya. Their conversation is so casual and unbothered, but who is he talking to?

Five walks peacefully into the living room, as Hazel follows behind him. You unclasp a hidden pistol from underneath the bars counter-top. Cocking it, and raising it up to shoot in one swift calculated motion.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hiss at him, he quickly raises his hands into the air, gun still in his left hand, but not pointed towards anyone.

“Please. Just give me a couple minutes to explain some things. It’s important.” He says calmly, not wanting to get shot.

“Drop the gun. Then we’ll talk like adults.” You tell him, your tone still hostile. He nods, dropping the gun onto the floor, and kicking it over to Five. Who’s just casually sipping his margarita from the barstool, watching the whole interaction.

“So, you’re here to kill me?” Nonchalantly asks Five.

“Well, I can understand why you might feel that way, you know” Hazel mutters, standing there weaponless and slightly awkward.

“Well you attacked our house, tried to kill my family, and kidnapped my brother.” Says Five, you quickly cut in. “Not to mention that you stabbed me with an antique metal boat. And you killed Patch, the detective who was looking for Klaus...she never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.” You snap at him, your gun still raised. He looks down with a sigh.

“Cha-Cha was the one that killed her, I was just gonna knock her out....to give us enough time to leave. Sorry about your friend.” Your eyebrows furrow, Hazels voice surprisingly holds no lies, you stay unswayed still angry about it. But now you have a clearer idea of who’s on your hit list now, it’s just Cha-Cha. You know Hazel’s not a good person, but you can read people very well, and he just looks so tired of everything, he lacks that coldness that most true killers have. Deciding he’s harmless for now, you lower your gun, keeping one arm on the counter as you bring the gun down to your side.

“Well, there’s not much I can do about the past. I’m not the only killer in this room. You two got your own bloody histories. Speaking of which, that job you did in Calhoun, Five, that shits legendary.” He tells the two of you sincerely, looking up to you as he continues, “Y/N, when you busted that sex trafficking ring in Madrid, killing all the guards and leaving the main pimp alive for the feds. Granted, you blinded him in one eye and shattered his right arm beyond repair. But still...impressive.” You think about that moment briefly, it was more of a ruined vacation to say the least. “I can’t believe I’m actually in the same room as the two of you, after all..” Five looks up from his drink, half annoyed and half curious.

“Hazel why are you here?” Hazel stops for a second to speak, “Well I..” Suddenly he’s cut off when Diego appears out of nowhere, kicking him hard from behind. “Diego, stop!” Shouts Five, “You know, before you kill him, you might wanna hear what he has to say.”

Diego completely ignores him, you’re not even sure if he saw you behind the bar. Completely over taken by his own sense of tunnel vision when it comes to fighting bad guys. He tumbles around with Hazel, getting a punch in here and there, stepping back to pull out a knife, “I’m gonna kill you for what you did to Patch.” He growls, throwing his arm out, slicing where Hazel just was. Thankfully Hazel’s a trained assassin, so he’s able to dodge Diego’s blows. That is until Diego stabs him right in his thick left thigh, you and Five grimace, yeah that looked painful. The two of them duke it out for another couple seconds before Hazel aggressively bear hugs Diego, holding his arms down while lifting him up. Diego does not like this in the slightest, and a moment later he bites into Hazel’s ear. Five finally gets off the stool, grabbing an empty tequila bottle, teleporting behind Diego, and hitting him over the head with the glass. Diego gets knocked out instantly, Hazel letting him go, as he falls unconsciously to the floor. “I draw the line at biting. Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes round.” Says Five, walking back over to his drink.

“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.” Says Hazel quickly, straight and to the point.

“For what?” You ask him puzzled, not 100% convinced that now he’s all gun-ho and ready to stop killing people. “To help stop the apocalypse.” Five starts to chuckle, Hazel’s face falling in confusion.

“What on earth could be so funny to you right now?” Five then goes on to explain things about how the apocalypse is over and how we found that random guy who supposedly causes it. They then converse about what life could have been like for Five if he never got caught up with the Handler and the Commission or if he never even timetraveled at all. Hazel says his farewells and even gives you the weapon that killed Patch, so Diego’s name can rightfully be cleared. You don’t stop him when he finally leaves, you’ve figured enough blood has been spilled this week already, and you’d rather not add any new stains onto the Academy’s carpet.

——

When Diego finally comes round, you and Five are sitting on the barstools watching him wake up. “Good, you’re up. Ready for a drink now?” Says Five as casually as ever, Diego suddenly jumps to his feet, looking around for a missing Hazel. “Where is he?”

“We let him go.” You tell him, Diego’s eyes shoot open in astonishment, he was so close to avenging Patch. “You what?”

“Now that the apocalypse is over, it’s time for the fighting to stop.” Reasons Five, Diego’s face turns into a scowl, as he leans down to pick up his dropped knife off of the floor. “He didn’t kill Patch. Cha-Cha did.” You try getting through to him, but he seems to not care.

“So what? They were both there that night.” He snaps, you raise an eyebrow at his moodiness and abrupt change in tone.

“So? He happened to give us...both of their guns. Which will clear you, because the ballistics will match Eudora’s crime scene.” You tell him as he thinks about the information. “Hazel came looking for a way out. He wanted a fresh start. And he happened to have in his possession the one thing that could do our family a little good. So it’s time to move on.” Five says, adding more to what you’ve already said in hopes Diego will listen.

“Not a chance.” He answers with, you let out a sigh at his stubbornness. Five gets up, walking over to Dolores to pick her up so he can leave, not wanting to try and argue with Diego about his refusal to stop hunting both of them. “Suit yourself.” He adds, turning to walk out of the room, you watch as he goes knowing that you’re gonna have to be the one to talk some sense into Diego.

“I’m done hunting Hazel. He’s far from innocent, I’ll say that much. But...he’s not worth my anger anymore....I’ll kill Cha-Cha, and then I’ll sleep better at night knowing she can’t hurt anyone else anymore...and the bitch got what she deserved.” You truthfully tell him, hoping that he’ll take your side and understand your meaning. You look over to him, he frowns hanging his head down.

“I can’t, she was my friend.” He whispers honestly, avoiding your disappointed gaze.

“And she was mine. I doubt Patch would have wanted you to kill a faultless man. He didn’t kill her, Diego.” He looks up at your sincere gaze, he knows you’re right, but it’s just so difficult for him to accept that. You study his face, and in all honesty you’re not 100% certain in what he might say next, so you give him a hard decision that will feasibly sway his mindset.

“If you try and kill Hazel....I’ll stop you.” You pause for a moment to look at his conflicted face, he looks away from you. “You know I can stop you if I really wanted to. You’re not an idiot to how dangerous I can be...so don’t be an idiot.” You’re voice is almost harsh with the small threat you’ve just made, Diego hasn’t felt this nervous around you since he was a teenager. He looks back up to you, letting out a shaky breath, he puts his dagger back into its holster.

“Fine. You’re more important to me than killing Hazel....I can live with that.” He finally says, catching the big relief in your eyes. You give him a small smile, “Good, I really didn’t wanna have to break your arm.” His eyes go wide at your statement, “Oh calm down, I wouldn’t touch your face, I gotta keep you lookin pretty.” He rolls his eyes at that, revealing the smallest of hidden smiles.

——

You’re lounging on your bed, absentmindedly throwing a small bouncy ball against your wall over and over again. When Allison walks into your room, she gives you a tired smile, but you can see past that, noticing the deep worry that seeps out. You catch the ball without looking, standing up and setting it down on your bed. “Glad to see you’re alive and well. I don’t know where anyone else is right now if you’re trying to find Luther.” You tell her, she shakes her head, giving her notepad into your hand. Follow me. He has Vanya. Is what the note reads, your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but wanting to know more you nod ready to help in anyway you can.

She leads you down the hallway and down many flights of stairs, and then finally into an elevator before you both are standing at the end of a creepy metal hallway. You’ve never seen this part of the Academy before, but you have a terrible idea as to why that might be. She continues forward as you hear the agitated voices of Klaus, Diego, and Luther. As well as someone faintly pounding on glass. What is going on?

When you reach the end of the hallway, Allison stops, your eyes find the three boys heatedly yelling about Vanya. Then you finally see her, she looks terrified and is almost in tears as she silently screams, pounding her hands against the glass opening in the metal door. Luther turns around, immediately noticing the two of you. Who are staring on in shock and rising anger. “Y/N. Allison, what are you two doing down here? Allison you should be in bed.” Says Luther, more concerned for Allison then Vanya, who’s fucking imprisoned in a soundproof metal cage. Allison begins to furiously scribble down some words on her notepad. Let her go, it reads. Luther shakes his head, “I can’t do that. She hurt you.”

Allison scribbles more down, holding it up for them to see when she’s done. My Fault. Luther won’t be moved, “I’m sorry but she’s staying put.” Allison shakes her head, walking over to get Vanya out, Luther puts his large arm out to stop her. “Just until we know what we’re dealing with.” She goes to walk around him as Diego and Klaus walk over to you by the doorway, but he stands unmoving, she steps back in frustration, “She stays put.” Says Luther, giving the final word. Allison’s face makes an angry but pained expression as she pushes his chest twice, letting out her frustration physically, knowing whatever hits she deals on Luther, won’t hurt him in the slightest. He doesn’t even budge, even when she makes an attempt at throwing weak punches into his arm that’s currently holding her back. “Come on. You need to rest.” He tells her, Allison doesn’t want to listen but she’s getting tired and knows she won’t be able to get past Luther. Diego and Klaus don’t even make an effort to try and fight him either, it’s not worth it.

You stand defiantly in the doorway as Klaus walks past you, Diego tugs gently on your arm, silently asking you to go with him, knowing that fighting with Luther will only make things worse. “We can’t just fucking leave her down here.” You snap at Luther, and a bit at the others. You brush Diego’s hand off of you as you walk up to Luther and Allison. “I’m not leaving without Vanya. So get out of my way.” You growl at him through clenched teeth, seething with anger at what he’s done. How dare he leave Vanya down here all alone, like a caged animal. You won’t stand for it.

Luther let’s out a discouraged sigh, really dreading a fight with you, the legitimate only person who could kick his ass and definitely hurt him. If you truly wanted to, and right now you do, very badly. “We don’t need to do this.” He pleads, fearing what he might have to do next.

“It wasn’t a suggestion. Move.” You hiss, he nudges Allison to get out of the way. She gives you a sad look as she walks past you, standing next to Diego and Klaus who came back to see what’s going on. “I know what it feels like to get a broken leg. It doesn’t feel very nice. So I advise that you step aside, before I make an example out of you.” He takes a step forward, staring dangerously down at your unflinching form. Taking this as your answer, you punch him in the stomach as you kick his right leg out from under him. He swiftly falls to the floor, catching himself on his hands and knees with a pained grunt. As you go to walk around him, he throws his right arm up, stabbing you with something tiny but cold. The fuck? As an answer you kick him in the face, he falls back a couple feet, landing near Allison and Diego who are watching this in shock. Not knowing how to handle the two of you.

You turn back around to look at Vanya, she’s looking at something on the ground next to your boots with a scared face. You follow her gaze to see a lone surgeons needle, empty on the cold floor by your feet. And then it hits you, Luther fucking drugged you, he knew you’d fight back. And he’s smart enough to know that you’d win, so he drugged you, preventing you from being able to help Vanya for awhile. Fucking bastard. The effects take hold of you quickly as your vision begins to go spotty, you suddenly feel numb all over and extremely tired. Shit what did he put in the needle. You look over at him, falling to the floor, as you land hard on your hands and knees. The room seems to sway as you sit down, your arms sliding out from under you. As you fall sideways onto the hard cement floor, Diego races over to you as Luther stands up, wiping a trail of blood from his nose.

“Fuck you.” Is the only thing you have time to rasp out, your world falling away into darkness, as Diego tells you something that you can’t even hear anymore.

——

A loud thunderous smashing sound of metal on metal vibrates violently throughout the Academy. Rousing you from your slumber, you suck in a deep breath, sitting up instantly from your spot on the couch. Your cloudy mind is trying to pick up the pieces of what happened before you got drugged. Oh, that’s right, Luther drugged you so you wouldn’t release Vanya from her steel confinement. But, onto the current problem of the hour, that sound came from below the house. Swallowing hard, you know exactly who’s the cause of this monstrous racket....Vanya.

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x you #the umbrella academy x reader #what a time to be alive fic #falcor the luck dragon stories #tua #tua season one #number two

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waywardbeanie · 5 years ago

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A Man of Letters - Chapter Four

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 3078

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: Violence aftermath, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always)

A/N: This series has been rattling around in my head for a while. It would never have made it to the light of day if it was not for my beautiful group of friends with whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are and I love you all!

Thank you to my beta’s @winchest09 and @whatareyousearchingfordean without them I would be sunk!

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

Dean “Ass Kicker, Name Taker” Winchester

PO Box 323

Sioux Falls, SD 57101

Your first letter came today. I’m so proud of you, Dean. What you do for others, that no one will ever know. It’s a thankless job and I know you say you don’t care, that it isn’t about the appreciation. I just want YOU to know that you are important and that I love you.

Things aren't the same since you left. I guess that’s the nice thing about living halfway between the Bunker and Sioux Falls. I never knew exactly when you would be here. I swear I could hear Baby coming a mile away. Though even after all this time I could really do without the whole “surprising me” thing, it’s not like we don’t text all the time!. You have seen me so many times with my ratty shorts and sweatshirt on, hair piled on top of my head…ugh.

Anyway, moving on. I miss you, so, so much. PLEASE be safe! Don’t tell me always, because you have come here pretty banged up, more than once. I miss your voice and your laugh. I’ll be honest, I bet I’ve listened to your last voicemail about 50 times by now. My favorite part? The way you say “Baaaabbbbeeeee” all drawn out. You know what I was thinking about today? The first time you stayed the night at my house (wink, wink, wink) I’ll end this for now. Tell Sam to stay safe too! I hope you get this soon and write back! I hate not hearing your voice but I get it.

I Love You,

Your Initial

Three years ago

Deans POV

They were in the living room sitting in two chairs across from Y/N curled under a blanket on the couch. She had taken so long in the shower, Dean had started to worry that she had fallen. He had walked behind her as she limped down the hallway towards the bathroom, refusing his help. He was just grateful she had at least let him take off those damn boots. “Jesus, I don’t know how she wears those on a normal day, I mean Christ, they are so high! Not that she didn't look good in them,” he smirked to himself.

He hovered outside the bathroom door a few times listening to make sure she was ok. He almost banged on the wood once when he swore she was crying but Sam came in from getting rid of the vamp bodies. As he walked into the kitchen he spied Dean hovering outside the room Y/N was in.

“What are you doing?” Sam barked, louder than necessary. Dean jumped about a foot.

“Shut it!” he whispered through clenched teeth, “I’m just checking on her to make sure she’s ok.” Sam just stood at the end of the hall staring at him. ”Really?” he asked sarcastically, “because from here it looks like you’re being pervy.”

“I am not being pervy!” he fired back in an angry whisper, “she’s been in there forever and I think she was crying. I’m just mak-” The shower shut off and Dean stopped talking. Looking wide-eyed at Sam, he carefully snuck back towards the kitchen, stopping next to Sam who looked at him with a frown. “You're definitely being pervy. Stop acting weird, don’t you think she’s been tormented enough tonight? Do you want her to think after all this she now has a creeper in her house?”

“I’m not acting weird, you're acting weird and I’m absolutely not a creeper.” Dean continued to speak in a hushed tone.

“Whatever, dude.” Sam shook his head as he walked to the kitchen sink to clean himself up after using the outside hose to spray everything down in the yard.

As she exited the bathroom and made her way slowly to the living room, Dean had to admit she looked better than before but it was still obvious she’d been severely hurt. . Her right eye was completely swollen shut, surrounded by blue and purple bruising. The handprint on her neck, even darker. Wet hair piled on her head in a messy bun, sporting a black “STYX” long sleeved tee and loose pair of plaid men's boxers. As Sam joined them in the living room, drying his hands, Dean tried to help her on the couch but she stopped him with a slight shake of her head. He backed up, sitting in the high back chair across from her, where Sam joined him.

After she settled, she pondered both of them. Dean leaning forward in the chair studying her, his strong forearms resting on his denim covered knees, a grey T-shirt peeking out from the top of the black button down, rolled up to his elbows, pulling tightly against his muscular biceps. Sam matched his brother's posture wearing a blue plaid button down and denim jeans. Both having work boots encasing their feet. Studying Sam, he was returning her look with consternation when Y/N finally broke the silence, “I hate to be a pain in the ass after all of this,” she gestured around the house, “but can someone PLEASE make me a cup of coffee before you guys tell me what the fuck is going on around here.” Dean was grateful that her voice sounded stronger than before she took a shower. ”Obviously, this chick is a fighter,” he thought, lips lifting slightly.

“Sure, sure,” Sam rose from the chair. “I saw the coffee machine in your kitchen.”

“Thank you, Sam,” as she began to smile her fingers went to her swollen lips “ugh, this is going to get old real quick.” speaking through her fingers, “the coffee stuff is above the machine.” Swinging her gaze back to Dean, “Do you want coffee?”

Grinning he sat back in the chair, crossing his leg, foot settling on the opposite knee. “No, I’m good, sweetheart. You wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger would you?”

Continuing to speak through her fingers resting on her lips, “I have Jameson Black Barrel above the refrigerator.”

“That’ll do.” Rising from the chair he made his way to the kitchen.

“Dean,” she spoke softly, he turned to face her, “how do you know my name?”

Settling back in the living room, Y/N had her hands wrapped around a huge mug of coffee while Sam and Dean relaxed back in their chairs. Each with a tumbler of whiskey, they began with “The Talk”. There are things in this world that are real; vampires, werewolves, witches are all real and they kill them. She was a case and that’s how they knew her name, plain and simple. Vampires killed her parents and she was on their hit list. Cradling the coffee in her palms, she sipped and listened, glancing from one to the other as they spoke.

“I think she’s in shock.” Sam murmured out of the corner of this mouth.

Dean was regarding her carefully. “Y/N, you ok? I know that this is a lot we are piling on you at once, but in this situation we don’t have a choice. There are still two vamps who are after you, not to mention the people who sent them. Sammy and I, we’re going to take care of them, but we also need to keep you safe.”

“Absolutely in shock, you need to give her a minute.” Sam remarked sipping his whiskey.

A shudder climbed up her spine and she began to shake her head. “I knew it, I fucking knew it! My mom and dad dying at the cabin, it made no sense,” she took another sip of her coffee, “they knew how to bear-proof the cabin. We have never had a problem with bears…ever. We have been going to that cabin since I was little. So you’re telling me that vampires did this, those were vampires who attacked me tonight?” Straightening her shoulders she continued her rant, “I thought vampires wore capes or sparked or at the very least looked like Stefan or Damon Salvatore! Not like some creepy, greasy redneck from the corn fields for fuck sake!”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. She was on a roll and even though she was bruised, she was still so damn cute.

Turning she pinned Dean with a look, “So yesterday, at the bar, when you were watching me and asked me to dance...it was just all for a case someone gave you?” Dean could see the hurt fleeting across her face. If he were not looking at her he would have missed it. Sam stood briskly, “I need to go get...something...a book, yeah a book out of the...car.” Setting down his tumbler, he hurried out the front door and slammed it behind him, Dean and Y/N’s gaze never leaving each other. Rising from his chair, he started moving toward the couch when she raised her hand, her palm facing Dean.

“No.” Shaking her head, she watched him as he sat back in the chair. “Let me explain,” he began.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” she muttered, looking into her coffee cup, “I get it. I was a case, totally makes sense, really. I mean this is what-”

“Y/N!” he interrupted, her eyes snapping to his. “Let me talk for a minute. Yes, we came here for a case. We came here to watch you, we weren’t even going to interact with you if we didn’t need to,” he explained, moving forward in his chair. “I didn’t ask you to dance for the case, I didn’t hold your hand for the case. There is just something…” he moved his hand to gesture between them. “I don’t know what but...something.” A slight smile played on her lips as she raised her shoulders, “Maybe.”

Huffing out a laugh he agreed, “Yeah, maybe.” They just continued to study one another, not saying anything. Each with their own version of “Is there something there? Could they trust the other? Would this life make it impossible?” Including every narrative in between.

Returning to the house, Sam entered the living room with his eyebrows raised “So...what are we doing?” The spell broken, they both looked up at him. “What do we need to do now?” Y/N questioned.

“Well, one of us should stay with you, to keep you safe.” Dean put forward, “I don’t think they will come back tonight, but you can’t be too careful.”

“Oh!” she squeaked, “Um, sure,” Rising from the couch she folded the blanket and began to cautiously walk down the hallway.

“Sweetheart,” Dean called, “where are you going?”

“I’m getting blankets and pillows so you guys can stay.”

Dean whipped around pointing at Sam, “NO!” he rasped, keeping his voice low, “you are NOT staying here! I meant it Sammy! Not…staying!”

Sam looked at Dean raising his eyebrows, a smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. “Thanks so much Y/N, we really appreciate you letting us both crash here!’

Dean looked Sam in the eye with a pleading yet murderous look. Lips set in a firm line, the eldest Winchester drug his thumb nail across his throat before he pointed at Sam, then at the front door. “GET OUT!” he mouthed. Meeting Dean’s eyes Sam called “Hey Y/N, I was thinking,, do you need any hel-”

Stepping closer to Sam Dean whispered, “I mean it Sammy, I never ask you for anything! Would you just go? I can handle this, just go. Just come back and pick me up for breakfast. No, no, make it lunch.” Dean grinned.

Rolling his eyes, sighing, Sam held out his hand, “Fine, give me the keys.” Digging around in his pockets he pulled out the keys for Baby and handed them to Sam. Just as his fingers wrapped around the keys, Dean jerked them back, shaking them slightly. “Be nice to her Sammy, don’t drive all crazy, you have to be sweet to my girl.” Sam leaned in close to Dean. “I swear Dean, if you don’t give me those damn keys right now, I’m going to sprawl on this floor, spread eagle and I’m not leaving for as long as we are in this town. I will make sure you don’t have one second alone with her.”

Dean shoved the keys in his hand, “Here! Now, remember to pick me up for lunch ok?”

Sam jammed the keys in his pocket and headed out the door just as Dean turned on his heel heading for the hallway. He came to a halt seeing Y/N bent over, half buried in the linen closet, her baggy shorts riding up riding above the curve of her ass. Watching it sway from side to side made his palms itch and his pants tighten.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans as he was agonized to himself, “Damn, look at her ass, there are so many things I want to do-No! No!” he physically shook his head. “She has had a traumatic experience tonight, you want to be nice and calming… Respectable, yeah respectable. Don’t go creeping her out! You are not a creeper man, NOT a creeper!”

She pulled herself out of the closet with an arm full of sheets, blankets and pillows. Hurrying over Dean took them from her arms. “I got it.” he assured her. Walking to the couch he laid them on the end. Taking a sheet from the pile she offers an apology. “I’m really sorry you have to sleep on the couch,” she apologizes as she begins to tuck the sheets into the cushions. “I have another bedroom but it’s filled with stuff, I was thinking of turning it into a dark room but I just haven't gotten that far yet.” Dean was just standing there watching her, hands in pockets, leaning back on his heels when he noticed Y/N had stopped what she was doing. “Wait,” she started, standing up as she looked around, “where’s Sam?”

“Yeah, about that,” Dean rubs his hand across the back of his neck, looking at her. “He decided to go back to the hotel because, um, he didn’t want to sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, well,” Y/N began to look towards her bedroom, “I guess I could have slept on the couch, you guys could have taken my room.” Dean began to shake his head, “Nope, no way. We’re not taking your room. We are here to make sure nothing happens, not take over your bed.” At that her eyes snapped to his, she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks with just the thought of Dean taking over her bed. She started to shake out the blanket. “It seems hot in here, are you hot? Maybe we should turn on the fans, or maybe the air conditioner?” Stepping forward Dean covered her hands with his, “sweetheart, it’s ok, it’s not too hot. Why don’t you sit down on the couch and let me get another bag of peas from the freezer. I think it will help your eye.” She flopped down in the middle of the couch with a sigh. He returned from the kitchen with the frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel, “Here.” He grabbed the pillows and laid them on the left side of the couch, patting them. “Just lay your head down and relax, it will be easier for you to hold the peas to your eye.” Y/N hesitated. “I don’t want to fall asleep just yet, but I’m sure you're tired.”

“No I’m good,” Dean reassured her. “I’ll just sit here,” gesturing to the opposite end of the couch, “I can flip on the TV or we can just talk.”

”Sure, talking sounds nice,” she agreed. He helped her lay her head back on the pillows and positioned the bag of frozen veggies against her eye. “You good?” he questioned. “Mhm,” she hummed comfortably. Dean made his way to the opposite end of the couch, she pulled her feet up to make sure that he had plenty of room. Settling himself down, he unlaced his boots, pulling them off and setting them to the side. Leaning back, he draped his arm over the back of the couch with his refilled tumbler of whiskey in the other hand, swirling slowly. “Tell me a story,” she prompted, nudging his thigh faintly with her foot. “What kind of story?” he questioned.

“Well, I would say a monster story but I think I’ve had enough of that for tonight.”

Dean chucked. “It’s almost morning you know,” she drew in a breath as she began to sit up.

“No, no, lay back down,” he urged, “just keep the ice on your face for a bit.” Nestling back down into the pillows, she listened while Dean told a few stories about his and Sam's adventures. Her toes soon found themselves tucked underneath his leg for warmth. As he continued to spin tales, he dropped his arm from the back of the couch and with a feather light touch, caressed her calf, his touch easily moving from ankle to knee. He watched her face as she listened, a small smile here and there, her battered face serene. The rumble of Dean’s voice eventually lulling her to deep sleep. He rose from the couch carefully, retrieving the peas and throwing them back in the freezer. Returning to the living room, he began removing his button down, laying it across the chair. Watching Y/N sleep, he debated on carrying her to her bed. However, he had noticed earlier that the couch was almost the size of a twin bed when the back cushions were removed. He removed his Colt M1911A1, laying it on the coffee table before he carefully crawled over her and slid behind her. As he snuggled down he was able to lie on his back. Then, just like a moth to a flame, Y/N snuggled into his side, fitting like a missing piece of a puzzle. As he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, her face nestled into his neck as his chin rested on the crown of her head. She snuggled in closer breathing in the smell of him and hummed softly. Dean just lay there, appreciating the feel of her in his arms, and a smile touching his lips as he soon drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 5

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo @compresshischest09 @supernatural-bellawinchester @jensengirl83 @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @ellewritesfix05 @moron225 @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @unicornqu33n17 @swinchester27 @deans-baby-momma @squirrelnotsam @clumsy-nerd104 @sarahbaker2010 @supernatural-love14 @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @angelhearts1012 @nothinbuttrouble2 @cookiechipdough

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean xyou #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x y/n #reader insert #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester series #a man of letters #waywardbeanie

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i-am-just-a-kiddo · 4 years ago

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2020 year in a review

thanks for tagging me @vishcount, eventhough you probably know all of these answers already. i don’t know if i am gonna do the other one, let’s see. tagging @the-cloud-whisperer, @sassyassassy, @intyalote as usual, if you have fun with this! I really tried to rank these amongst the top five, which was a personal challenge for me, so don’t take these rankings too seriously. my answers below the cut cause there is a novel incoming:

Top 5 Movies you saw this year

I don’t watch many movies in general, though I have seen quite a handful this year actually? I might have forgotten half of it already tbh

Moonlit Winter (2019) -I have been waiting to find this movie online for ages, so I was incredibly happy when I finally found it at the beginning of this year. It’s wonderful, heartbreaking and raw - about the relationship between mother and daughter, about lost queer love between the mother and her friend, about life in general. I cried buckets.

Parasite (2019) -do I have to say anything? I don’t think so, this movie defined many this year right?

The King and the Clown (2005) -pleasantly surprised by this one, it made me cry and sad and it’s not a happy gay story but it still touched me so much. also the production is amazing

Mulan (2009) -I rewatched this movie this year after hearing about the chaos that was Mulan 2020, and it still gets me; I don’t know what it is, but it might be the last part of the movie that always hits me like a train and I am back to thinking about it

Inside The Girls (2014) -not actually a good movie with a horrible name, but certainly interesting and had some potential?? I am listing it because I had a lot of fun watching it with my dear friend vish and it was fun sharing our opinions on that, but I don’t actually recommend it that much (unless of course you wanna see Cheng Yi and Yin Zheng in a movie together being assholes)

Top 5 TV shows you watched this year

I probably watched around 20 shows this year so picking this was hard somehow? I feel like I forgot some gems but I guess these are the ones that stood out to me

Nirvana In Fire (2015) -by far the best show I’ve seen in a long time. The plot, the characters, the production - it really blew me away. I can’t recommend it enough because I still cry about it.

Winter Begonia (2020) -Funny how I am listing this here so high considering the split opinions I have about this show but damnit, in the end it won me over. It was truly something else wow.

The Stranded (Netflix 2019) -Another surprise, but I just remembered this little show and it was so good? I really hope we will get a second season because I loved the first one and it was way too short. Also the production of this is so stunning, as well as the interesting set of characters.

Original Sin (2018) -This was a gem I discovered in the latter part of the year, mainly because of Yin Zheng, but when I watched it, it hit my mood perfectly. A crime show that has a beautiful atmosphere and is focused on characters. It has its faults and if you watch it for the cases and the plot, it’s not the most outstanding show but damnit, I watched it twice and loved it.

YYY: The Series (2020) -Amongst all these BL shows out there, this is my personal gem. It’s a wild ride of crack and sweetness, so enter at your own risk. let me just say I did not expect to bawl my eyes out at this tiny cracky show.

Top 5 songs of 2020

it really sucks having to choose only five songs but here I go from the huge amount of stuff I have listened to

Black Swan by BTS -this is pure art. in every way, it caters to my taste. I have nothing else to say except that it owns my soul. the visuals, the atmosphere, the music, the lyrics, the performance. it hits all marks and hurts me on a personal level.

Strange (feat. RM) by Agust D -this mixtape saved me and choosing my fave song from this was difficult but I guess I have to name this iconic collab. The lyrics of this are truly....something else. if you have time, please go check them out, as well as the entire mixtape.

Pain by Vaundy -I have been very obsessed with this song and this singer, he has my heart.

Rien à prouver by Yseult -again, I am just obsessed with this song and her voice, Yseult truly is a goddess to me at this point

Zombie by Day6 -perfectly captures my mind, my life and my state this year.

Top 5 books you read in 2020 I have only read two novels this year, everything else was either university stuff or poetry, so this is what I am mostly listing here.

Gyeongju. The Capital of Golden Silla by Sarah Milledge Nelson -I used this as my main source for one of my fics I wrote this year and it was perfect. I spent an intense week of only researching for this topic and had a blast; especially this book was a blessing because it gave a good overview of what life back then could have been like.

Call Down the Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater -one of the novels I read this year and I’ve been waiting for this for ages. Like the other books from TRC, I bingeread it on one day and adored it. Am excited for the rest of the trilogy and this new adventure!

Beyond The First Emperor’s Mausoleum: New Perspectives On Qin Art, edited by Liu Yang -I read this for one of my lectures and I thought it had very interesting essays, namely Archaeological Finds of the Maijiayuan Cemetery and Qin’s Interaction with Steppe Cultures by Wang Hui; and Qin Cosmography and the First Cosmic Capital - Xianyang by David W. Pankenier.

The Mongol Empire. Betweem Myth and Reality by Denise Aigle -another one I read for lectures and it was a good overview to the broad topic that is the Mongol Empire.

Night Sky With Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong -I adore Vuong’s writing style so I hope to read more of his work. This is a beautiful, raw and honest work and I hope many more will read his book and the stories he has to tell.

+ Bonus: Affinity by Sarah Waters - wlw set in 19th century London; very dark and spooky and very fun to read if you like this sort of atmosphere (as I do).

5 positive things that happened in 2020

i managed to write and create a lot during the first half of this year, which i will treasure greatly. recently i have been struggling a lot - maybe it’s getting back on track now, but i guess i am still proud of all i managed to write/draw/other wise create this year.

amazing new flatmates joined our collective so i feel happy that we have this pleasant dynamic going on currently

i acquired some new housplants which have made me very happy this year, eventhough i struggle a little bit to keep them completely happy. am truly trying my best

i started taking medications for my depression, anxiety and social phobia in autumn and i think it was for the best. i still struggle from time to time but i truly feel a difference and i am glad this worked out mostly smoothly for me

in september we went on a short holiday in on the countryside and on the last night we all went outside to sit on the pier by a small pond. i will never forget this moment because after what felt like ages, i saw a crystal clear night sky. i haven’t seen so many stars in years and i could even see their reflections on the water, it was so magical and breathtaking. i think it was the one moment that still stands out from everything else. i just wish to return there, on my own, and just lie down for hours

anyway, if you have read through this rambling, i wish you a very happy new year and hope things will get better!!

#phew #am finally done with this #i did not expect this to take so long lol #but it's nice #tag game #2020 #personal

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ask-the-crimson-king · 4 years ago

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Tales from D&D: Skin to Bone

[Hello. Have not done a Tales from D&D in a hot minute. Thought I’d do one now.

This one is from the Icewind Dale campaign that I am playing, and because of it, there may be SPOILERS FOR ICEWIND DALE below the cut.

I am also going to be tagging @luwupercal because I think they may enjoy hearing about the fate of Barnaby and the fucking feels train this campaign has become.

Before I get into it, this is the cast:

LYDIA - Vampire spawn warlock. Chill as fuck. Just wants to be able to either cure herself or stop having to run from her new self.

RHOZAL - Hobgoblin Artificer with a lot of emotional baggage. Blacksmith and feelsy baby. Protect him. Has a crush on Lydia. [The feelings are mutual on both ends, however the characters are being COWARDS-]

BARNABY BUSSELTON - Anarcho-capitalist gnome wizard. No longer a PC. Relevant to the beginning of this tale. Will explain.

CHARLES NOLAND - Halfling druid. Was vibing in the snow for 2 months. New to the gang.

AND FINALLY, MY DUMB ASS AS-

Hakkerskaldyr Strigr, but known as FREYR - Goliath Paladin who worships the Allfather. Lost an eye. And a character that I’ve lost interest in playing. We’ll get into that.

We begin our tale with a TPK in some caverns. Note: The party is Level 3.

The enemies were a frost giant skeleton, a hag, and a wil-o-wisp.

Lydia makes it to the hag first. Rhozal and I, Freyr, try to follow her to provide assistance while Barnaby tries to kite the skeleton away from us.

We get to the room with the hag. Lydia isn’t doing too good.

The giant stops following Barnaby and comes for us.

Rhozal is put down in one blow from the giant’s axe. Freyr is able to use the final spell slot and put down a smite on the hag, killing it. Lydia, who had been grappled by it, is now free.

Freyr was at 5 hp. The giant needed to do 35 damage for Freyr to be killed instantaneously.

The DM rolled a 7, an 8, and an 11. The giant had a +6 to the attack.

The giant had done 34 damage. One more and I would have been out. BUT THAT WASN’T THE END! Because on the next turn, the wisp used its ability where a creature put down to 0 needs to make a DC 10 con save or die instantly.

Made the save.

Lydia flees, and now the giant skeleton is fighting this wisp. Barnaby is hanging back, letting them fight it out. Lydia does her Form of Dread and finds Barnaby, takes out a shadowblade, and kills him. Freyr’s axebeak, Ishe, is on her way to try and retrieve Freyr. Lydia tries to mount her, but is bucked off.

Barnaby’s turn is next and he gets a NAT 20 TO THE SAVE, POPS UP, SAYS “SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER” AND DOWNS LYDIA WITH A LEVEL 2 MAGIC MISSILE.

Ishe then pecks his ass and puts him back on death saves. Which he got another nat 20 to in two turns.

SO, TPK. Wonderful. Rhozal then releases a snake called Xipecoatl unto the world in exchange for his life. The snake kills the skeleton, and Ishe comes in to grab Freyr and run. Barnaby gets up and makes a deal with the snake.

Freyr goes to the nearest city with Ishe, once he comes to, for help from the guard. With a nat 20 to persuasion, he gets it.

Barnaby starts making traps around the caves, including alchemist’s fire and rockfall traps. I am sent into secrets corner, alone, FOR 45 FUCKING MINUTES while Barnaby talks.

Finally, I’m able to get back into the main call, and Freyr takes up his weapons, and the guards, and he makes his way into the caverns. Man checked for traps all the while, but they were disarmed. Barnaby left a note. Rhozal is fucking worried and wants to pursue him now. Barnaby has captured Lydia.

We resolve to fucking kill him.

Thanks to Lydia being a fucking madlad, we’re able to locate him hiding out in the snow. He hears the sled dogs that are with us. Rhozal is given a scroll of fireball (reward for the quest we were on), and he uses it to cast fireball on Barnaby. Takes 11 fire damage.

I go, and I try to Vow of Emnity his ass. Can’t. Fucking illusion. GREAT.

Turns progress and the guards can’t hit him because of this illusion. Lydia is not doing well on death saves. She needs to be saved now.

On Barnaby’s turn, he takes out a fang, and teleports away.

“Let this be known as the day you almost caught Barnaby Busselton!”

He also ignites the oil he had planted around Lydia. Due to a Secret, Freyr has fire resistance, so he was literally thrown into the fires to help her. After cutting himself so Lydia could be stable/healed, he hauls her up and out of the flames.

Barnaby is now a DMPC, and will eventually be hunted.

We all leave and get a room in the nearby city of Easthaven. We spent the night there, we had some very nice heart to heart moments. Rhozal now feels empty. But we all cement our bonds with each other, and Rhozal and Lydia become very cute and adorable. I don’t want this post to be a million miles long, so I’ll leave it at that.

I will try to summarize the next few sessions. Essentially, we found a magic cauldron in those caves (its a Cauldron of Plenty) and the Speaker (mayor) of Easthaven was willing to pay 3500gp for it. So we planned to give it to him, but it was stolen in the time period the speaker had told us it would take for us to be paid. We find Charles in the Speaker’s town hall, and we ask him if he knew anything. The answer was ‘no’. So we head downstairs and we find the Speaker beat to shit, along with his guards.

It is at this point we find out who stole the cauldron, a dwarf woman named Torgga, and we head out as soon as possible. The Speaker offers 1000 more gp for its retrieval.

So we head off to Targos, the last town that we knew Torgga frequented. We go to Luskan Arms, a Tavern, and we find her sleds. But the cauldron is gone. We head inside and we see her heading up to speak with someone. Lydia turns invisible and leaves her familiar, a pseudodragon named Signum (who is also constantly pointing in the direction Lydia is in), with us. When Signum squeaks, it means she’s in danger.

Lydia is able to eavesdrop on a situation. The Speaker of Targos plans to starve out Easthaven. GREAT. POLITICS. Makes Torgga fear him. He is a corrupted cunt, essentially.

Torgga is let out, and Lydia remains in the room with the Speaker.

She then decides to attack. Signum starts squeaking. Me and Rhozal’s player are aggressively signing (because we had been muted for this entire altercation) that we are FUCKIN GONE, we are DASHING AWAY-

But Lydia CRITS ON THE BITE. C R I T. NATURAL. T W E N T Y.

Combat ensues. It takes Freyr and Rhozal forever to try and get to her. Rhozal is able to just yeet his ass upstairs, but then there’s a locked door in the way. Freyr is being pulled back by a tiefling (one of the Speaker’s lot), and even with a FUCKING 21 TO ATHLETICS, I couldn’t break free. FOR LIKE FIVE FUCKING ROUNDS. NO, I did not hit this person, BECAUSE MY PALLY BOY WAS JUST THINKING “don’t hurt more people than you have to, that’s just going to cause more trouble”.

But anyway he gets upstairs but Lydia is unconscious. Rhozal cannot pick the door. So we start breaking it down.

We break it down.

The Speaker ties up Lydia with manacles. We break into his room (after Rhozal gets poisoned by a Cone Snail doorknob), see Lydia is awake (nat 20 to death saves baBY), and that the Speaker is missing.

He escaped through a hidden door. Freyr watched him do it. So he tries to find the exit, but fails.

His next turn, this motherfucker opens the door and says “Hello!”. Makes 3 attacks.

Misses 2.

CRITS. ON THE THIRD. FOR FUCK SAKE-

Freyr is down. AND. AND. HE HAS THREE SPELL SLOTS THAT HE CAN USE. AND ALL OF HIS LAY ON HANDS POINTS. BUT HE IS DOWN. FUCK.

Rhozal is also downed, but Signum arrives to save the day! Signum stings him. Speaker rolls a nat 1 to his con save, so he is now unconscious for an hour. Freyr gets healing potion’d, then he res’s Rhozal, and then Rhozal starts tying up the Speaker. Charles had been kinda holding back the tide downstairs (Dire Wolf wild shaping is fucking insane at level 3), so he hauls ass to come help us.

However, about 5 other people are following. FUCK.

We try to find a way to escape. We also need proof the Speaker is a corrupt fuckhead. Which we THOUGHT we had, because the Speaker wrote a letter that essentially said “Ah yes, I am Evil and Corrupt, muah ha ha.” However. The DM then proceeded to reveal that he didn’t have the letter on him, when he told Lydia that she saw him take it.

Fucking. Damn. It.

We headed into his secret hallway and we try to find a way out.

The hallway is trapped, however, and nearly takes us out because of those traps. How fucking LOVELY.

We hear the guards calling for someone, who finds the oTHER END OF THIS HALLWAY AND THEN SNIPES FREYR. Down. AGAIN.

Then Rhozal is put down.

Charles and Lydia are able to flee.

Rhozal and Freyr are taken captive.

We awake to find ourselves imprisoned. Manacled, in nothing but ragged clothing. The Speaker wants to make a deal. He literally says “Ah yes, I am corrupt and power hungry. Work for me.”

Look. Freyr is not about that life. It’s complicated but it has ties to his backstory.

Rhozal wants to say yes. Freyr is a vehement no. This guy thinks of him, Rhozal, and Lydia as precious pieces on his board. Weapons he can turn against the people of Targos and Ten Towns. Things for his own gain. Freyr would rather choose death before dishonor.

The Speaker then says that Freyr would be imprisoned, and let out once he became more useful.

Rhozal fears he will be killed.

It is at this point that I and Rhozal’s player go into the Secrets chat so Rhozal and Freyr can argue their points.

Meanwhile, Charles and Lydia go to find some acquaintances the party made in Targos. Marianne, a Changeling healer, and Mimosa Halfglass, the chief healer in Targos. They start planning a prison break.

In our bickering and imprisonment, Marianne comes to us. We tell her to sneak out our things. She’s disguising herself as a guard. She then leaves.

Rhozal’s player and I are then brought into the general vc and muted.

Lydia ends up speaking with the Speaker alone, offers a counter-offer, and also offers to try and convince Rhozal and Freyr to take his deal. He allows her to try and do so. Lydia is shackled and put into the same cell we are.

The session ends here. However, in the background, Lydia, Rhozal, and Freyr all end up talking.

I will say this now. I am feeling... stuck with my boy. I love Freyr. I really do. However, I don’t feel... inspired to play him anymore. So the DM has told us we need to make a decision -- take the Speaker’s offer, or don’t. And in this decision, I have a second one, that being; do I continue playing Freyr, or do I introduce a new character.

I feel like, while the others have ideas and plans, Freyr doesn’t have many. Not many plot things that he feels relevant to or connected by, outside of this prophecy he was given to by Odin in the session he lost his eye. However, that feels like a very late game thing, and I feel like I’m kinda... twiddling my thumbs while the others have things to do.

My next character I have basically planned out. I know how he talks, how he thinks, his mannerisms, everything. And I really like him. Haven’t quite decided on a name yet, but I incorporated that aspect itself into his character.

I already know that Freyr is a vehement ‘no’. Lydia and Rhozal tried to convince him otherwise, but my boy is stubborn. But the DM told me that things do not have to end there.

So my decision by Wednesday is now -- who’s story do I play? Freyr’s, or this new character?

I’m still torn. But I am leaning more and more towards this new character. He feels dynamic, and the character is a class I’ve never played before. Plus I think he’ll get along well with Lydia, Rhozal, and Charles.

It’ll be a heartfelt goodbye if he leaves. But I feel like his chapter has come to a close. Besides, I feel like he’s a bit too... third wheel-y for what Rhozal and Lydia have going on. He feels too awkward. I don’t like his dynamic too much anymore.

But who knows, maybe I’ll regret the decision either way. However, I do believe it’s time for my paladin to say goodbye. At least at the time of writing. I’ll provide updates when the fateful day comes.]

#title for this inspired by a linkin park song of the same name #one that i feel is very fitting to the situation #that and roads untraveled #will add more in another post #maybe #cause theres some shit about rhozal and lydia man #moonclaws sagas #tales from D&D

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iamfallinforeverything · 5 years ago

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First Love (2/?)

Here it is dear @xceafh I hope you like it 😊 Also it is alot different from what you requested, but I decided to make this into a little series, because I have a lot of ideas for this and it would be to much for one part. So there is going to be a third part for sure, maybe even a fourth. I don’t know yet.

Also let me know if any of you want to be tagged in the upcoming stuff for First Love. I’ll try to make a tag list for this 😅

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (coming soon)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries, The Originals

(Elijah Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson (coming soon))

Summary: Your ancestors make sure that you’ll keep your promise and it’s going to be interesting.

Words: +1,6k

Warnings: swearing, angst (just being upset I guess), alcohol

Y/F/D = Your favorite drink

Last Time: For a moment it was silent. And then Niklaus clapped his hands and looked at me.

“So, let’s talk about that promise you just made.”, he smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Because I don’t want to change who I am.”

***

We started to walk back to the house and I looked at him unsure.

“That’s going to be a problem then.”, I answered and smiled nervously.

“Oh it’s not. I’ve known most of the witches from your coven. They know that I am not willing to change who I am.”, Niklaus answered and let go of my arm. I stopped my walk.

“Because you killed most of them, haven’t you?”, I answered.

“You could say so. I prefer to say that I defended myself.”, he said and turned back around.

“Of course you did.”, I breathed heavily and walked past him, back inside the house.

Esther was gone. I couldn’t see her anymore. Just like Elijah. He’s probably taking care of her.

“Care to explain what the hell you did out there?”, Niklaus asked when he had caught up to me and was next to me again.

“Isn’t it that obvious? I peformed magic.”, I answered and shrugged with my shoulders.

“That’s not what I meant little witch. Stop playing games with me.”, Niklaus said and sounded a little angry.

“Or else what?”, I challenged him.

“You don’t want to know that my dear.”

“Oh, I have a good idea of what's going to follow.”, I smiled sweetly at him and spook a little spell to make it unbearable for him to be around me.

I could hear him gag and I laughed quietly.

“Stupid little witch.”, I heard him say which made me laugh louder.

I walked towards one of the many bars and ordered some water. With the glass in my hands I started to walk around again. I could see Finn, Rebekah and Kol talking with eachothers. Just as I was about to speak a little spell to hear what they were saying, their heads turned in my direction and all three looked at me. Kol looked so tortured again. As if something was putting him in a lot of pain. The sick feeling in my stomach returned and all I wanted to do was to leave this house. I was here for what I was invited to. So I’m free to go, right? As if anyone would care anyway.

I put the glass down and walked towards the exit. Everything I wanted to do was to go home, curle up under my warm blanket and sleep for four weeks straight. For some reason looking at Kol, Finn and Rebekah made me sick as fuck.

I walked out the door and straight to my car. I just needed to get in and drive back home. Not a big deal. I can drive. I can drive in the dark and the last sip of alcohol is was also... ...half an hour ago? That’s fine. I can leave. It’s fine.

Then why the fucking isn’t my stupid car opening? I had pressed the stupid button at least 1000 times and I had even rattled the handle. It just did not open. Fuck it, who needs a car when there are buses and trains. Besides, I'm a witch, I can do it without a car.

So I took off my high heels, picked them up and walked home. I walked the long way down to the gate. Pebbles, by the way, are an invention of men who never have to walk over them with bare feet. I cursed every little pebble and as I stood in front of the gate, it crossed my mind that I could also enchant them to make them soft. But I could also simply magically create flat shoes, which will certainly be useful for the further way home.

And that is exactly what I did as I walked through the gate. Or at least I tried. In front of the gate was an invisible barrier, which I couldn't get through.

"That little bitch Esther," I murmured quietly and quickly spoke a spell that should undo her "protection" spell. But when I still couldn't get through the gate, I realized it wasn't Esther's protection spell. It wasn't even a protection spell.

"You're kidding me, aren't you?" I said and tried another spell, but it didn't help either, which was clear. "You're gonna lock me in here? You're really gonna lock me in here? With the vampires. With the fucking original vampires! They' re gonna kill me. They're all gonna kill me."

Beaten, I turned around again and looked at the house in front of me, where I was forced to spend the next time, if not the rest of my life. Why did I always have to be so damn forward? Did I have to promise to change them back to humans? Couldn't I have come up with something else? Like turning them into a bunny, for example? That would be easier.

What am I supposed to do now? I can't leave the stupid property and one day they' ll notice me anyway. And I didn't want to sleep in a bush either.

Why were my stupid ancestors so damn specific about everything? I could just as easily fulfill my promise with something warm to drink in my cuddly bed. Wouldn't be a problem. No, of course they were melodramatic again and had to lock me up here. With the crazy ones. Great. Thanks, you idiots.

So I trotted back to the house and on the way there I decided to get drunk without restraint. I intensified my little spell that's keeping Niklaus away from me, and extended it to the entire Mikaelson family. Only Elijah I spared. I liked him. Somehow.

In the house I immediately headed to the first bar I saw and ordered Y/F/D, drank my drink straight down and ordered a new one. I did the same and with the third glass I resumed my tour through the house, even though I already knew the area where the guests were allowed to go. So I extended my tour to the "private" rooms. At some point I would know all of them anyway, after all I would stay here for a while. I wondered for how long my ancestors would go on playing this game. At least I knew that my mother's crazy aunt had a lot of stamina when it came to punishment. And my father's mother, my grandmother, also loved punishment. What kind of stupid family did I live in? Who loved punishing people? Who loved punishing their own family?

I drank my drink, walked around aimlessly and watched the Mikaelson family trying to get closer to me, but each time they soon started puking. The drunker I got, the funnier it got. Eventually I turned the tables and walked towards them, which made them start to run. I had to control myself not to laugh out loud. It looked too funny watching Finn puff out his cheeks because he was gagging. Or the look Rebekah got on her face. It was just amusing.

Unfortunately this game got boring after a while and so I decided to go outside again. It was damn cold outside and a dress with thin straps and a huge slit on the side didn't really help against the cold. But I was more than drunk, so I didn't really care. Maybe I was lucky and would freeze to death. Would my spirit be trapped here too then? That would be terrible. Being tied to this place forever.

For a while I just walked through the garden until I found a bench a little bit away from everything and sat down. With my back to the house. I just looked up at the sky and watched the stars. I wondered how much they' d already seen in their lives.

I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn't really cared who was coming. I couldn't walk away anyway.

A thin blanket was put around my shoulders before someone sat down beside me. A quick glance was enough to know that it was Elijah.

"Were you not about to leave?", Elijah asked.

"Can't.", I murmured back without looking at him.

"Why may I ask?"

"Because my ancestors are little shitheads who won't let me go until I have kept my promise," I replied fiercely and immediately felt a slight tug in my head. That must have been my mother's crazy aunt. She has always hated me.

"Care to explain?"

"They have bound me to this property. I can't leave because there's a barrier around the entire property. I can't leave until I keep my promise. And since that is very unlikely, I will be stuck here forever.", I said. Maybe I was slurring my words, I was not quite sure.

"Why did you help us at all? We have brought nothing but misery to your coven."

"I don't know. I just had to.", I shrugged.

Elijah didn't say anything else. He just sat there. Kept me company. I could feel myself getting tired. Magic and alcohol made me sleepy. Elijah noticed that immediately.

"Come. I'll show you a room where you can stay.", he said and extended his hand to me.

Without thinking I took it and let him pull me up. My eyes were heavy and I coulnd't think straight. Was the sun rising back there? Was it already so late? Or was it just some lights from the party?

I didn't know and to be honest I didn't really cared. I was exhausted and I just wanted to sleep. I didn't really remember how I got into the room either. All I knew was that Elijah had helped me. And after that, it was all just a blur. Damn alcohol.

And please, don’t ask me where the stupid blanket went that Elijah put around my shoulders because I don’t have a fucking clue.

#the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares imagines #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals imagines #kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #First Love #lills pieces

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elendiltengwesta · 5 years ago

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Prompt- “Let them go!”

Pairing- None

Characters- Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders(mention)

Fic Type- Its just pure angst with no happy ending(yet)

Warnings- Kidnapping, bad self care, morally grey Deceit. I think that's it, but let me know if you need something else tagged.

Word Count- 1,769

A/N- Consistent writing style? Who’s she? Never heard of her. Anyway, I’m actually pretty proud of this and this(hopefully) will become my usual writing style. There will be a sequel to this, and I already have several ideas for it.

Tag List- @ukaia @music14ss @awkwardlesbain

Feedback is appreciated as always.

--------------------

It had been a stressful week. The dark sides had kidnapped Virgil, and no one knew why. Thomas still had anxiety and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary about it, so that was at least something good the other sides could focus on.

Patton was trying to make sure the other two were doing okay. It was difficult because he was also dealing with his own emotions, but he knew he had to be there to help the others or they would be doing a lot worse than they were.

Roman wasn’t taking it very well. He had just started to build a better relationship with Virgil when Remus and Deceit had taken him. He was almost always in the Imagination, usually practicing with his sword, only leaving when Patton forced him to.

Logan was taking it the worst. He had been there with Virgil when Remus and Deceit came. He could have done something to stop them. He SHOULD have done something to stop them. He was now sitting at his desk, piles of paper in front of him. There had to be some way to get Virgil back, there just had to be. He was so focused on creating a plan that he didn’t hear Patton knock on his door.

“Logan? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for a while…” Patton’s worry was clear, even from just his voice.

“I’m fine, Patton.” Logan responded. Was he fine though? He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten anything, or even had something to drink. He hadn’t slept much either.

“Are you sure…? Can you come with me and take a break?” Patton knew Logan probably wouldn’t, but he wanted to try.

“No. I have to keep working.” Logan leaned over his desk, putting his head in his hand. He was looking over the papers in front of him. They were a compilation of information, everything he knew about all of the sides, himself included, and what happened the week before.

Patton could hear the strain in Logan’s voice. “I’m coming in…” He said, slowly pushing the door open. He saw Logan at his desk and walked over to him.

Logan looked up from his desk and at Patton. “I told you I’m fine, Patton.”

“I- I know… but you have to take a break! You’ve been working for hours!”

Logan sighed, realizing that Patton wouldn’t leave him alone until he took a break. “Fine.”

Patton gave Logan a small smile. “Thank you.”

Logan apparently wasn’t doing as well as he thought he was. When he tried to stand, his knees gave out under him, causing him to fall. He grabbed the edge of his desk to stop himself from completely falling.

“Logan!” Patton caught Logan as he fell and helped him stand. He started guiding Logan over to his bed. “You definitely need to take a break! There’s no way you can think clearly if you can’t stand!”

Logan let Patton lead him away from his desk, it wasn’t like he could fight him even if he wanted to. He didn’t say anything, knowing Patton wouldn’t listen to his protests. He didn’t know why he was protesting in the first place. Yes, he felt guilty for Virgil being captured, he knew he had to get him back, but he also knew he couldn’t do that if he wasn’t taking care of himself. He was Logic, so why was he ignoring the logical steps of action to getting Virgil back?

Patton helped Logan sit down on his bed then walked back over to the desk. He looked at the papers on top of it, seeing just how much was really there. It had been a week… how long had Logan been overworking himself? Moving some of the papers on the top, Patton saw even more papers, papers about different things than Virgil’s capture. Papers about Thomas’ schedule, papers about some of the videos Thomas was in the process of making, and papers on several other topics. Enough papers to indicate that Logan had been working, possibly overworking, for weeks, maybe even months.

The other sides always wondered what Logan was doing in his room. They knew Virgil was in his room a lot because it helped with his anxiety, but no one knew what Logan did in his. They all assumed he was just reading, or doing some other nerdy thing, but they had no way to know for sure. Logan never let any of the other sides into his room unless it was absolutely necessary. Though the other sides had heard Deceit and even Remus talking to Logan when the others couldn’t get in.

Patton returned the papers to where they were on the desk and went back to Logan. He made him lie down, wanting him to sleep but understanding if he couldn’t. He sat on the end of the bed, making sure Logan didn’t try to get up and start working again.

When Logan laid down he realized just how tired he really was. He gave into his exhaustion a few minutes later, falling asleep for the first time in days.

Patton smiled when he saw the logical side had fallen asleep. A few scales then appeared on the father figure’s face. He dropped the act once no one could see him, revealing himself to be Deceit. He had only been planning on seeing what Logan had planned so far so he could stop it, but seeing how hard Logan was working made him kind of angry. Angry at Roman and Patton for letting Logan overwork himself for this long and do nothing about it. Angry that Logan was the only one who seemed to actually be trying to get Virgil back, while the others claimed they loved him and would do anything for him. Angry that Logan was just putting up with it and not doing anything about it. Logan was in a deep sleep and didn’t feel Deceit pick him up and sink out of the room.

Virgil had long stopped trying to get out of the ropes around him. He saw Deceit rise into the room and didn’t react. Then he saw Logan in his arms. He struggled against the ropes, trying to get to Logan.

Deceit didn’t pay any attention to Virgil. He walked over to a small couch on the other side of the room and laid Logan down on it. Yes, he had kidnapped Logan, but he deserved to rest, even if it wasn’t under the best circumstances. He did tie Logan up just in case he tried to escape when he woke up, though it was just a precaution so he didn’t run and the ropes were nowhere near as tight as Virgil’s were.

All Virgil accomplished by struggling against the ropes were making his already bad rope burn even worse. He stopped tugging when he saw that Deceit wasn’t hurting Logan, though he was glaring at Deceit. He would say something to him, but he had been silenced by Deceit a few days ago.

Deceit noticed Virgil’s glare. He simply smiled at him and exited the room, leaving Virgil with nothing to do but watch over his friend while he slept.

-----------------

It was another day before Roman or Patton noticed that Logan had disappeared. It was Roman who noticed first. He had been going to Logan’s room to see what progress had been made on the plan. The first indication that something was wrong was that Logan didn’t respond when Roman knocked on his door. The thing that made Roman sure that something happened was that when he tried to push open the door, it opened. It never opened unless Logan opened it. Roman cautiously took a few steps inside the room, drawing his sword just in case. When he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary he started to turn to leave, then he saw something on Logan’s bed.

It was a note. Roman walked over to it, sheathing his sword and picking up the small piece of paper. It read: “You caused this to happen. He did so much for you, yet you never did anything for him, thinking you could do just as well without him. Well, let’s see just how far you can truly get without the voice of reason on your side. -D”

Roman stared blankly at the note for a few seconds. He then moved suddenly, running to Patton’s room. He knocked on his door, out of breath from running.

Patton opened the door like he usually would, unaware that anything was wrong. “Hey kiddo! What’s up?”

Roman wordlessly handed Patton the note, still trying to catch his breath.

Patton tilted his head, looking confused. “What’s that?” He asked as he stepped out of his room and took the note from Roman. His eyes widened as he read it. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but closed it again before he did.

Roman finally caught his breath. He looked up at Patton, staring directly into his eyes. “I’m going to get them back.”

“What?!” Patton seemed genuinely surprised by what Roman said.

“I’m going to get them back.” He said again like it was the simplest thing.

“Roman, no! I want to get them back too, but I don’t want you to get hurt.” Patton’s voice was a mixture of many emotions. He was happy they knew where Virgil was, but he didn’t want anything to happen to him or Logan. He was concerned about what the note meant, and he didn’t want Roman getting hurt.

Roman’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. “I’m going. Are you coming or staying here?”

"I-” He hesitated. “I- I’m staying here. That way you can come to me if you need to get out of there.” Patton didn’t want Roman going, much less by himself, but he knew he couldn’t stop him.

Roman nodded slowly and looked at Patton for a few more seconds before sinking out to the dark side of the mindscape.

Patton leaned back on his door, thinking about what just happened.

--------------

Roman rose into the dark side of the mindscape a few moments later. It was almost pitch black, and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust enough to be able to see. It had been a while since he had been there, but he still knew his way around. He walked quickly, drawing his sword as he reached a black door with yellow designs on it. He burst into the room, his sword in hand. Then he saw Deceit. “Let them go!”

Deceit just laughed.

#sanders sides #tw kidnapping #tw bad self care #morally grey Deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #remus mention #sombra writes

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

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Betting on the Bullseye (18/?)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I wrote this chapter awhile ago, and I was so proud of the movie title I made up…I checked Netflix the other day, and they have the same movie. So, you know, either I saw the movie without realizing it, or Netflix has some explaining to do…I kid, I kid :D Thank you guys for continuously being the best!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @notoriouscs

When he got the call in the middle of August, he felt actual butterflies in his stomach. He’s always hated that turn of phrase, but oftentimes, it’s the only phrase he thinks can actually describe what it’s like to be so damn nervous that he feels as if something seriously wrong is going on in his body. He could feel it in his stomach and in his throat. Hell, he could feel it in his fingers some days.

He was excited.

He was terrified.

It happens sometimes. He wishes it happened more often, but honestly, he wonders if it keeps the excitement for what he does alive to get to read through scripts to find the rare gem that actually speaks to him instead of liking everything that passes over his desk. This one, though, the more he reads it, the more he thinks about it, the more he gets inside of Michael’s head…the more he wants it.

Which is probably why he’s about to throw up as Robin drives him over to meet with the producers and the casting directors. He’s not even really auditioning, just talking to them, but it feels like he’s doing his first audition all over again. It had been for an extra with one line in Grey’s Anatomy, and he felt as if he was attempting to prove himself to be Tom Hanks or something.

It was ridiculous.

He didn’t even get that role. It was one line. He’s pretty sure he was supposed to be ordering coffee or something.

His phone buzzes in his lap, and Emma’s name pops up, instantly calming him down for a moment.

Emma: Go kick ass today, KJ! I love you!

Emma: I also love your ass, but that is totally unrelated to what I’m supposed to be telling you right now.

Killian: I love you too! I’ll try to kick arse with my good arse just for you!

Emma: That’s all I ask.

He does kick arse if he says so himself, the meeting going far better than expected. They want him. He knew that they wanted him, but they actually, seriously want him. He’s still got to do negotiations, to work out a few details and to screen test with potential costars, but he’s got the role if he wants it. It’s all early in the preproduction stages, but damn is he excited.

“You look like Roland after I let him eat more than one donut,” Robin laughs as they drive away from the lot and make their way to go get lunch. “You excited?”

“Obviously, mate.” He pulls out his phone and texts Emma about everything, knowing that she’s at work right now and can’t really talk. He really wants to tell her anyways. “And nothing compares to your son on a sugar high. Absolutely nothing. It’s like he’s been possessed.”

“He has been. By sugar.” Robin pulls off of main road and down into one of the business districts. “You want to go in somewhere or do take out?”

“We can do take out. Just pick something out Roland will like since we’ve got to pick him up from school.”

“He’s not going to be hungry.” “He is if we have any kind of junk food, and I feel like we deserve junk food.” “Because we’ve worked so hard today?”

“Exactly.”

Sure enough, when they pull up to pick-up at Roland’s elementary school, the boy climbs in the backseat, buckles himself in, and then immediately asks for some of the fries Killian is eating.

Like clockwork.

-/-

He swears that every Labor Day weekend his corner of Santa Monica gains at least half a million tourists. He’s sure that’s a bit excessive, but it’s only Thursday and people are absolutely everywhere. It’s to the point that he’s in the grocery store trying to stock up for the weekend, and he can’t turn anywhere without running into a cart with someone stocking up on beer and any kind of junk food he can imagine. He can’t really say much, not when he’s doing the same thing, but he absolutely cannot wait to get his things, check out, and get home before he has to drive to the airport to pick Emma up for the weekend.

He should have just ordered online and had his stuff delivered, but he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted when he thought about it the other day after he and Emma had talked.

Emma’s had a hell of a few weeks at work, has pretty much wanted to pull her hair out nearly every day, and even though he saw her two weeks ago before he had to come back to California to meet with the producers for this movie (he wishes they’d give it a temporary name other than Project 783 because he’s a bit tired of calling it that), she was too stressed for either of them to really enjoy it. It’s been a long summer. A good one but incredibly long.

He’s pretty sure there’s several songs about long hot summers, and that’s pretty much been his entire summer. With a lot of airports and Uber rides and living out of his overnight bag.

But Emma’s coming in today, is already on her plane, and is staying through Monday. They’ve got his premiere for Highland Waters tomorrow night, a day to themselves on Saturday, and then they’re spending Sunday out on the Jolly with his family, Anna and Kris included. He’s pretty sure Anna has texted him at least five times a day double checking that Emma is definitely going to be here this weekend. Despite how much time Emma has spent with Elsa, she keeps missing Anna.

Anna is not okay with it in the slightest. Sometimes he thinks she’s been his sister-in-law for his entire life instead of five years with the way she treats him. She’s refreshing, and he’s completely sure that she and Emma need to meet on soft ground for when Anna inevitably tackles her.

Yeah, she’s definitely going to tackle Emma.

After he finally checks out and loads his groceries in the car, he drives home a little faster than he should and quickly puts everything away. He’ll have to tidy it all up later, but he needs to go ahead and make his way to LAX because he already knows that traffic will be awful. It nearly always it, and this weekend is going to make it worse.

Sure enough, he’s late to show up, but he hasn’t gotten a text from Emma letting him know that she’s landed, so he parks in hourly parking and makes his way inside, taking the long route to avoid the photographers that stake out at the exit nearest to the parking lot. He doesn’t see her anywhere, but considering it’s at least thirty times more insane than the grocery store in this small corner of the airport, he doesn’t exactly expect to right away.

Killian: Have you landed?

Emma: Yeah, but we’re taxiing right now.

Emma: My legs are so stiff, and the man next to me has talked for this entire flight.

Emma: Ah, shit. He just asked if I’d get dinner with him.

Emma: Why are people so weird?

Killian: What did you say?

Emma: Obviously I said yes.

Killian: Bring me some takeout from wherever you go.

He keeps texting back and forth with her until the texts stop and he’s left simply standing there watching and just waiting for her to show up somewhere.

“Hi, hi, hi,” Emma sighs as she jogs up to him at the airport, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding onto him as he tugs her closer, the bill of her baseball cap rubbing into his cheek with the sudden embrace. “How long have you been waiting here? It took forever taxiing after we landed, and then I had to pee, which I pretty much refuse to do on the plane which was hard because I had coffee…and yeah. Sorry for being late.”

“I absolutely do not mind,” he promises, quickly brushing his lips over hers as many times as he can before things turn inappropriate in a very public place. “Even if you were obviously going out to dinner with that man. I’ve just been watching people get black suitcase after black suitcase mixed up with other people’s very similar suitcases.”

“Sounds like quality entertainment.” “Right? Your flight’s luggage is coming out on this belt in front of me, so yours should be here soon. I’m surprised you didn’t do carry-on.”

She shrugs, pulling back from him and tightening the plaid shirts that’s wrapped around her waist. “Too much stuff. I wasn’t exactly sure what to wear tomorrow, and Ruby convinced me to bring…a lot. I figured you could help. Plus, my foundation went over the TSA limit for liquids weirdly enough, which I found out at security. That was a fun time.” “Sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure, Swan.” “I have. Look, there’s my suitcase. Let’s go.”

Emma practically jogs off to get her luggage, and he wonders just how much coffee she’s already consumed this morning. It’s got to be quite a bit, and he knows that she’s definitely going to crash in the middle of this afternoon. But it doesn’t matter. She’s here. She’s here, and he’s absolutely convinced that they’re going to have a wonderful Labor Day weekend with all of the plans that they’ve been making.

He hasn’t been this excited for a weekend in a long time.

-/-

“I like this,” he croons as he walks up to Emma at the counter in his bathroom that he’s come to think of as her counter. All of her stuff is there, the things she leaves behind both on accident and on purpose, including the damn toothbrush she ordered replacements heads for and had them sent here instead of to her home. He’d already signed up for the refurbishment ones, but he didn’t let her knows that when she texted him about the delivery. So now he has an entire dentist’s office worth of toothbrushes.

“Thank you.” She finishes putting her earring in and then turns around. “If I move from side to side, the fringe shakes.” She demonstrates for him, twisting and turning so that the white fringe on her dress moves with her, and he’s about as fascinated with it as he is with the smile on Emma’s face. It’s almost like she’s living some kind of childhood moment she never got right now, and all he can think is how happy he is that she’s happy. And how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

He’s known it for awhile even if they’re not there yet, but he’s there. And he’s perfectly happy to go at Emma’s pace. He knows that she’s it for him. All this summer, the months of flying back and forth, of getting brief moments of time together and even more talking on the phone, it’s been difficult, but it’s kind of reaffirmed things for him on what he wants out of life. Emma’s not the first woman he’s been in love with, she’s not even the second or the third, but she’s it in every big sense of such a small word. He somehow…somehow he just knows it with every fiber in his being.

God, he loves her. More than anything.

“See?” Emma laughs, looking up at him as the fringe stops moving, resting back in place and framing her body. “I bought this dress forever ago and have never worn it. It looks okay for the premiere, right?”

“You look stunning, my love,” he promises, taking her hands and kissing her knuckles so he won’t mess up her makeup. His lips move along the skin of her hands until he’s kissing her wrist, right on the small black dot. “And this is perfect.”

“Thanks. You look nice too. Very handsome but,” she reaches up and runs her hands through his hair a little bit, “your hair is too flat. You gotta add a little life to it.”

“How embarrassing will it be for me to admit that I usually have someone do my hair for things like this?”

“Only a little,” she laughs, continuing to mess with his hair, which feels far too good than it has any right to feel. “Why didn’t you for tonight?”

“Smaller event. I’m not even wearing a tie or anything.”

Emma rolls her eyes before turning around and picking up her lipstick and reapplying the red, her tongue poking out the slightest bit. “You are obviously in shambles.”

“Thank you for your never ending support.” He can see her wink in the mirror. “Always.”

The show sends him a driver, which he really didn’t understand for something like tonight when it’s simply a miniseries premier and not a movie, but he’s not going to complain about not having to worry about how much he’s had to drink when thinking about them getting home. So he thanks Steve, before helping Emma into the back of the car, her dress seemingly always in movement, and loading in himself.

Robin’s waiting for him when they pull up to the hotel where they’re hosting this thing tonight, and Steve drops them off at the front entrance where he can see Isabelle getting out of her car as well. Apparently, the producers are trying to schmooze them one last time.

“You ready, darling?” he asks Emma, taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers together as Robin walks them through the front doors. “Yep,” she says quietly, her eyes darting around the room that’s bursting with people. “This is kind of weird.” “Aye, I know. It’s pretty unconventional.” “A pipe burst down at the theater where they were going to do this,” Robin explains, “and they’re having to redo all of the upholstery. And this was a good last-minute option even if things are a little unconventional for it being a show.”

“That’s shitty luck.”

“It is, but this is a nicer place if I’m honest.” They walk into one of the ballrooms, and there’s a wall set up for them to take pictures by, a group of photographers and journalists already taking pictures and interviewing some of his costars. “Jones, you know what to do here. Take your picture alone, then some with Isabelle, and then you’ve got one interview at the end. Emma, you can stay with me if you want to.”

He looks over to Emma, and she nods her head, smiling at him even if her eyes are blown a little wide. “You going to be okay, darling?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She squeezes his hand before releasing it. “Go do your thing, KJ.”

So he does, standing and taking pictures, alternating between smiling and staring at the cameras with an emotionless look. This, to him, has always been one of the most awkward parts of his job. It’s not the interviews. It’s standing alone and having people take pictures of him. So he’s eternally thankful for when Isabelle finishes hers and comes to stand next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and smiling.

“You’ve got these crazy eyes going on right now, Jones,” she laughs, all the while her pose never fades. “I’d try straightening those out.”

“It’s the damn flashes and the way it’s far too dark in here.”

“You’re supposed to be a professional,” she teases. “Get it together.”

“I would, but your shoes are just so bright that I’ve been blinded.”

She hits his back – hard – and he laughs while they continue to move across the small carpet until they separate to do their own interviews. She’s one of his favorite costars, someone who he actually likes to talk to outside of work, and even though they’ve been finished filming for months, he knows he’s going to miss her when she flies back home to New Zealand instead of staying here.

When he’s finished talking, having gone through Ezra’s entire backstory once again as well as explaining just how excited he is for the miniseries to begin, he makes his way through the doors, figuring that’s where he’s supposed to go. It’s definitely different than he’s used to, not at all familiar, so he waits inside the impromptu theater that he’s just stumbled into until Robin and Emma also come through the doors with smiles on both of their faces. Good.

“You want to get something to drink, KJ?” Emma asks, coming up to him and poking her fingers at his chest. “Because I know for a fact that you hate watching yourself on screen, and I feel like you are going to need a couple glasses of rum for that.” “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“No,” she promises, wrapping her arms around his neck while he rests his on her hips, feeling the soft material of her dress under his fingertips, “I am not. I’m just trying to make life more bearable for all of us before you whine and moan all about your performance in the show.”

“She’s right, mate,” Robin laughs. “You’re going to give us all hell this entire time.” “See?” she nudges, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pleasantly scratching his skin. “You need something to drink. Plus, I think there may be food.”

“Swan, I would never dare bring you somewhere without food. I’m not a madman with a death wish.”

“That’s a good plan for you.”

After they get their drinks and Emma finds herself some food (“They have mini cheeseburgers, KJ. I knew your job wasn’t worthless.”), they settle themselves down into their seats while people continue to move around them. Isabelle comes to sit next to Emma, and they absolutely hit it off. It’s wonderful, even if most of it is them teasing him, but Emma’s just got this smile on her face, her eyes lighting up with joy…and it’s all he wants. He wants her to be happy, and if it means him suffering through being made fun of and having to watch himself on screen, it’s completely and totally worth it.

Plus, there are other scenes that he’s not in, and those are okay to watch. Those are brilliant to watch because it’s a bloody brilliant show. Emma gasps in all the right places, laughing at all of the totally inappropriate places when he’s doing something like sword fighting, and she spends the entire time whispering a live commentary in his ear that has his stomach rolling while he stifles his laughter in her hair and in her shoulder as he runs his lips across her bare shoulders every time he gets a chance. She smells like her hairspray, her perfume, and a little bit of rum on her breath. He enjoys the spice of it.

He enjoys her.

“That was brilliant,” Emma sighs when it’s over while the room claps. “Is there any way you can get me the entire thing, like, right now? I kind of want to know what happens next without you giving me spoilers.”

“I don’t think I have that power.”

She groans, stretching out her legs in the seat while her head falls back. “What good are you?”

“I thought we already established that the sliders you consumed earlier were what I was good for.” “That’s what your job is useful for. You, on the other hand, need to be worth something.”

“I’ll just have to think on that, love.”

He’s not sure if he ever comes up with something he can be good for since he can’t get Emma the entire season on Highland Waters, but he does get her some more food and a refill on her drink as everyone settles around the bar, chatter and laughter filling the room while music plays on the speakers overhead. He’s not exactly sure who all is here, most of the faces unrecognizable to him, so he assumes they’re executives instead of the crew he was so familiar with while filming. He would recognize the crew.

“So tell me,” Isabelle sighs as she comes up to he and Emma in the lounge by the bar, the wine in her glass sloshing around, “how in the world does Killian Jones get someone who is such a catch like Emma here?”

“I ask myself the same thing every day,” Emma teases, settling herself down on his thigh while he wraps his free arm around her waist, the other hand holding his glass.

“You have literally known her for three hours, Isabelle.”

“Yes, but in those three hours, she has informed me that you organize your fridge and pantry as well as everything else in your house like you’re in some kind of organization club.” “I am not embarrassed by the fact that I’m organized. Emma should be embarrassed by how much of a slob she is.” “Hey,” Emma laughs, adjusting herself in his lap while she slaps his hand over her stomach, “I am not a slob. I’m not a slob,” she repeats to Isabelle, “and really, the weirdest thing about Killian is definitely that he eats his salad without combining ingredients. Like, if there are strawberries in there, he eats all of them before moving onto the lettuce.” “That’s not weird.” “That’s really weird, Jones. I can guarantee it’s not the weirdest thing about you, but it’s pretty weird.” Someone calls out her name, and Isabelle looks away, practically tripping over her own heels even as she stands still. “I’ve got to go, but I’m going to come back and find you guys later.” “So she’s drunk, right? She can’t actually that clumsy all of the time, and if she is, that was incredible acting in that first episode.”

“She’s definitely a bit intoxicated,” he chuckles, tilting his head to the side and brushing his lips across her jaw and down her neck while she moves and gives him more access to her skin, little moans escaping her lips. Bless her. “I think we may be too, but we’re sitting down.”

“Because we’re, ah,” she gasps when he bites down on her skin, and it sends a shiver down to the base of his spine, “intellectuals.”

“Big word there.”

“You really are drunk if you think that’s a big word.”

He hums, leaning back in the chair and yanking her back with him so that she giggles, the sound high and lilting even with all of the sounds in the room. “I think we should go home, Swan,” he growls into her ear as his finger start moving over her stomach, wishing the damn fringe wasn’t in the way. He loved it at the beginning of the night, loved the way it made Emma feel, loved the way it hugged her curves, but he’d really rather she not be wearing it right now.

“I think that sounds like a plan, Stan.”

They load back into the car and get a ride home from Steve. He can’t say he’s ever made out with a girl in the backseat of a car, not since he was a teenager and Liam would have lost his mind had he and Hannah Kirpatrick been in the house, but now as a thirty-three-year-old man, he does just that. She tastes like the spice of the rum they’ve both been drinking, maybe a bit like the chocolate she ate right before they left, grabbing it on the way out the door, and it’s intoxicating as always as her lips move against his over and over again.

They’re probably scarring poor Steve, but he honestly doesn’t care when there’s a white fringe dress on the floor of his living room.

-/-

“Okay, so remind me that I am not twenty-two anymore the next time we decide to go out and drink so much,” Emma groans when she wakes up the next morning, her voice far too loud for how much pain he’s in.

“You’re talking far too loudly.”

“Oh my God, so are you.”

He chuckles, even as his head pounds, and wraps his arms further around his pillow, burying his face in the softness while he tries to will everything away. “You are nearly five years younger than me, so you’re much closer to twenty-two and not feeling dead from drinking too much.”

“You have a bigger body mass. Harder to get drunk.”

He kicks out on the other side of his bed until he finds flesh with his foot. He’s honestly not sure what part of Emma’s body he’s kicking, but he doesn’t care. “Rude,” he mumbles into his pillow, turning a bit and opening one eye just so he can see her stretched out as well, her hair covering her face from his view. “You’re not supposed to comment on a man’s body mass.”

“You’re taller than me and weigh more. Your body mass is bigger. It’s not an insult.” He kicks at her again until she yelps. “I hate you so much.”

“You don’t.” “I do.” “Will you still hate me if I go make us some hangover food?”

“Pancakes with chocolate chips and whipped cream would be acceptable. And coffee. And bacon. It has to be cooked in the oven and not the microwave though.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbles, rolling over in bed and letting his eyes adjust to the light, “how are you being so specific about what you want?” “I am a specific type of person.”

“Okay,” he sighs, slowly getting up from bed and letting his eyes adjust to light, “I will go make us all of that food, but I’m also going to make you eat some fruit, yeah?”

“Fine, Mary Margaret. I will eat all of my food groups.” “Don’t tease Mary Margaret when she’s got a good point. Besides, you eat salads all the damn time.” “Not when I’m miserably hungover and not picking everything out like you do.”

He’s miserable pretty much the entire time that he’s making breakfast, the medicine he took and coffee he’s drinking helping a small bit. Emma eventually joins him, her hair wrapped up in a towel on the top of her head while she’s changed into the sleep shorts she likes and one of his older t-shirts that she must have gotten out of one of the drawers in his closet. Misery loves company, so as he and Emma grumble and groan all while waiting for their food to be cooked, it’s not quite as miserable as it was.

Or maybe it is. He did drink a hell of a lot of rum yesterday.

But eventually he feels less like death and more like a human being. The food helps, even if he does have a lingering headache, but honestly the fact that they hoard themselves away in his bedroom with his curtains closed to block out the sun and do nothing but hide out under the covers while the rest of the country likely has a nice Labor Day Saturday helps the most. Plus, Emma grabbed bags of chips out of his pantry and brought them upstairs with her so they really don’t have to leave his room at all.

Except to go get water. Neither of them thought about water when they both really need it.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Emma speaks out of nowhere, making him turn his head to face her. She’s got a bag of salt and vinegar chips in her lap, something he already knows makes her tongue break out because his does the same, not that she cares about that, and if he were to shake out his comforter, he knows there’d be crumbs everywhere.

“For what, sweetheart?”

She shrugs, the bit of sunlight that’s peeking through the window casting across her face and hitting the green of her eyes, making them shine even more brightly than usual. “For your premiere yesterday, for getting the role for that movie that doesn’t have a name yet. I totally think it should be called After Life, though. People will think it has supernatural stuff in it when it doesn’t. It’ll just be about what happens after life is over for someone you love.”

He laughs, scooting up on the mattress and inching closer to her, nearly sitting up himself. “I’ll have to tell the producers that. Get you a paycheck for the name and everything.”

“Always looking out for me.” “Undoubtedly.”

“But I’m also just…” she sighs, her entire body heaving with the movement, and it’s what gets him to sit up against the headboard with her. “I’m proud of you for who you are, for getting this life for yourself, for not letting your past define you any more than it has to.” “Emma, what’s all this about?”

“Nothing,” she promises, putting the chips on the table next to her while he watches her features, watches to see if there’s anything she’s not telling him. “I don’t know why, but I was thinking about the Sorellino’s, about how I was late because of work, and how at the end of the night you told me how proud you were of me. That meant so much to me, probably more than I can ever tell you, but I also realized that I never told you how proud I am of you for the life that you’ve built.”

Emotion lodges itself in his throat, as do the words he wants to say in response. He remembers that night. How could he not? He remembers telling Emma how proud he was of her, remembers the way her eyes lit up and her lips trembled a bit, and he also remembers her telling him that his mum would be proud of him if she were here to see him. And while he doesn’t think what he does is changing the world, he’s glad that he does what he loves. Emma telling him that his mum would be proud of him, well, that was just the same if not better than anything else she could have said.

It doesn’t change the fact that he can feel his entire body heat all the while thinking about Emma and how she thinks him to be a man who she’s proud of, a man who she wants to be with despite all of his shortcomings and failures.

“Thank you, my love.” He leans over and brushes his lips over hers, tasting the chips she’s been eating.

“You taste like onions,” she groans, her entire demeanor lightening instantly so that he laughs against her lips.

“You taste like vinegar, so you really can’t complain.”

“Lucky for you, I do have a fancy toothbrush compared to your regular, manual one.”

“You and that damned toothbrush, Swan.”

She winks, reaching over and grabbing the big of chips before popping a large on in her mouth. “You’re really going to appreciate it when I eat this entire family-sized bag of chips all by myself in the next hour.”

“Those were for you and Anna for tomorrow. She’s going to kill you before she even meets you.”

“Don’t be so salty, KJ.” Emma pops another chip into her mouth while he groans, scrunching up his face. “Totally worth using the word salty for the look on your face right now.”

#betting on the bullseye #captain swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #cs fic

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jo-the-schmo · 6 years ago

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Red, Dead, Reflections Ch.1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m back on my garbage and writing for a new fandom, and I’m not sorry about it! Now, I doubt anyone who followed my previous writing is going to read this, but just in case I’ll give a disclaimer. This IS going to be the same concept from my old series Breaking. As you all know, I hate that story and wish I had done a better job with it, I’m considering this to be my way to do the idea justice. If you are new to my stories, Welcome new potential friend! I will respectfully ask you to not look into Breaking, only because it isn’t good, could possibly spoil the way this fic is gonna work, and is NOT for the RDR fandom in anyway. I’m really excited to be writing this story, and I’m hoping to make it better! I hope you enjoy it! I’m so sorry for this long note, please forgive me!

Word count: 5981

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Summary: After a bank job with your friends goes wrong, the world decides to toss you into an old yet new world. But is this random chance a blessing or a curse? Find out by going through this semi-choose your own adventure and see what consequences you reap.

A/N pt.2: There won’t be any choices for this chapter because it’s mainly set up, but expect some in the chapters to come! I hope you have a good time! If anyone would like to be tagged, you can message me, comment, or send an ask! Don’t be shy! :D This does not have a set character x reader because guess what? It’s gonna be partially your choice, babes! I hope you can be patient with me until this feature is implemented.

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes. “Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner. “This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in 2019, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!” “Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat. “Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate. “We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right. “Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled. “Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped. “Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI can get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!” “6.” Austin corrected. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.” “She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view. “Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?” “Yes’ir.” “I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad. “You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.” “Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads. The doors were kicked in. “EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing. “Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person. “Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?” “I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack. “I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils. “Staying alert, Dove?” “Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines. “Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others. “I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be. “Take the shot!” “Fuck you!” “Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected. “Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation. “Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her. “Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you. “At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care. “And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute. “Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice. “Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!” “There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.” “And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed. “We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in. “They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit. “Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!” “In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.” “We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two. “Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.” “What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath. “Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood. The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands. But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling. And falling. The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared.

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside. “I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!” The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here? “Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone. You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight. “You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground. “Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson. “Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!” “Who?” “Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“ “I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood. You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance. “Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt. “Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster. “Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat. “You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage. “James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option. “Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts. “I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty- “HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up. “Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed. “Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you. “Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you. “That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was. “Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?” “Yeah, what’s it to ya?” “Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either. “I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?” “Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name. “Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it. “Where are you from, son?” “California.” That was a safe enough answer. “James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy. “I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’” “I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion. You handed the gun back to Dutch. “Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk. “I think I like kid!” “Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside. “Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him. “Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.” You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe. There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen. “Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you leapt through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table. “What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in. “We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language. “Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan. “Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!” “Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening. “Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact. “They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information. “I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind. “Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman. “Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments. “It’s no problem, ma’am.” “Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets. “Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering. “Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky. “Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward. “Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment. “Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?” “We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What? “What?” “Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking? “It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry. “Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.” Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled.

Everything was black.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #charles smith #javier escuella #sadie adler #lenny summers #john marston #karen jones #mary-beth gaskill #josiah trelawny #hosea matthews #tilly jackson #not gonna list anymore characters #there's too many #love you

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