#first day scared the shit out of me and i almost called my partner to come home from work and take me to the er

[battywitch]

I'm gonna end up dying someday because I brushed off A Symptom™️ as me being hysterical, overreacting, etc

[thepowerofswayze]

college art donaldson !!!

maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.

change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!

so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)

☆

beach trip

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 3.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch

summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.

☆

“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”

You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.

When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.

What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.

Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.

Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.

Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.

Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”

Alright. That was your sign to go.

When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.

Art nodded.

Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.

It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.

More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.

Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.

You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.

Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.

He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.

“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”

Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”

Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”

The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.

“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.

“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.

The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.

“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”

Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.

Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”

You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”

He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”

“Alright, wanna try?”

Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”

You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.

You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.

He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.

When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”

“Hm?”

“Still scared?”

Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”

You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”

“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.

You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”

“What, don’t believe me?”

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.

“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.

He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.

You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.

“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.

You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?

… Maybe you were reading it wrong.

You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.

You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.

“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.

Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.

Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.

You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.

Fuck. Why did you run away?

When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.

You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.

The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.

You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.

Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”

You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.

Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.

You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”

He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.

You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.

“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.

You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.

He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.

Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”

You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.

His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.

When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.

Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.

You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.

“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.

Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”

That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”

He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”

Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.

You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.

He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.

You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.

Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”

He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.

With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.

Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.

You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.

With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.

Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.

Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.

Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.

And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”

He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”

You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”

You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”

“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.

[sugudoe]

⋆ ˚ ཐིiཋྀ ˚ ⋆ 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── ✎ ₊· 𝗷𝗷𝗸

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in desperate need of a skin, you, a talented beginner tattoo artist, decides to test your partner and his love for you in a comical way — “ can i tattoo you ? ’’

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’ve been drawing for a couple of days now, and this is inspired by my sibling ( a tattoo artist ) and their influence on me, cause i too wish i could tattoo myself whenever i’m bored. ALSO i know we all see geto as tough but i had to!! and nanami surprised even me but the vision is visioning, you can not deny. I KNOW you can’t do many tattoos in one setting but please it’s just for plot. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: fluff / crackfic / smau with writing / reader has no gender / english is not my first language / there is mistakes because the app beat my ass sowwy / mentions of needles and pain / foul language / suggestive theme and horny police for nanami

✶ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo ﾉ geto ﾉ nanami

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

Satoru is sitting in your chair, ankles fully on display for you, but you’re actually occupied with keeping everything sanitized in the makeshift space of your boyfriend’s spacious room. He is laughing and acting tough until he hears the buzz of the machine, then he stops and gulps.

“Shit, sweets. Don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“It’s too late.” You answer with a devilish smirk, before laughing and putting the pen down. “It’s okay if you don’t want anymore, no pressure.”

Maybe it’s the combo of your puppy eyes with small pout, but Gojo falls for your antics and let you have your way in his skin, it’s takes just a few minutes before you end the drawing of the little ants crawling his ankles. He, obviously, has the limitless off, and that scares him a bit — to feel pain, see dots of his blood. But when he looks at your concentrated face, pain dissolves, and he is happy to have something permanently his made by you, his only love.

By the end, though, he grins at you and asks for another one, bigger, blue! And you make the design and ink him again, before realizing you did not gave him the Suguru cat, but you fall for his dragon. Bitch.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

Geto can see black dots in his vision when he lays belly down on the bed. He is a tough guy, been through stuff you have only an ideia about. You could guess by the minimal details and the fucking huge scar on his chest, he has been deeply cut by something. Still, he is scared of the needle you are holding.

But here he is, presenting his blank large and sexy back to you, making you rethink of doing another thing instead of the tattoo, but you have your opportunity and need to grab it.

“My love, are you ready?” You voice has the buzzing sound of the machine in the background, Suguru groans at that.

“Please, beat me to sleep.” It’s all he says before you touch his face. Before you can say anything, he talks again. “I’m fine, I think. I trust you a lot, baby.”

Suguru soon learns how soft and weightless your hand feels, because although something is burning in his back, he thinks is just you rubbing alcohol — that is until he wonders why are you rubbing alcohol for twenty straight minutes now, and then he shifts his face a bit to stare at you. He almost passed out again when he realized the tattoo is already in progress, but he is fine, and simply goes back to his original head position, before deciding to sleep.

Suguru wakes up hours later with this intricate tattoo on his upper back, he smiles and flexes his muscles on the mirror before staring at you, seeing you googling him. Yeah, if you keep looking at him like that and your hands feeling like feather, he may enjoy this whole thing — he does! By the end of the year, his whole torso is designed by you.

──── ✎ ° ⋆ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Nanami presented you what could be called a slideshow of tattoos he would like to have. Basically he made a pinterest board and added you to put the tattoos you would think he look nice with (basically all you’ve seen).

By saturday, he is wearing a white shirt, showcasing his big arm’s muscles, you get occupied with a little thing before you even start to prepare the living room. Now, he has no shirt anymore.

“So, what did you choose for me, love?” His soothing voice asks you, he is sitting by your dinner table and you smile at him, showing your tablet with the many arts you made based on what both he and you liked.

“Now you pick one and we start.”

“Can I have all of them?” Oh.. “I like the art, you are so talented, love. Let me be your canvas, do what you want.” Yeah, you get occupied again in the day.

It’s nighttime when you crack your bones and look at both of your boyfriend’s arm, all inked up. He stares at you normally, no pain, no heavy breathing. He really was a punk in high school.

“So, since we already did all 12, can we finish the chest as well? I think legs would be nice too, or neck… I can have neck tattoos now!” Nanami says with a energetic voice when both of you are eating pasta later.

“Damn baby, you are getting addicted.” You sit on his lap, eyes focused on the ink all over him. “Yeah, we can do all that.”

[mothandpidgeon]

Making Out to Pablo Honey (virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: Dieter’s always tried to be cool. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. You, on the other hand, you’re cool.

contents: virgin!Dieter, young!Dieter, lots of 90s references, cannabis, mentions of masturbation, fingering, premature ejaculating, one ferris bueller reference, reader is able bodied and not described physically moth never uses y/n.

This fic is about horny teens doing horny teen things. It's not too late to not read this if that's not ok with you.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I'm thinking of this as a Dieter origin story. I really enjoyed thinking about him before he was the DIETER BRAVO. Anyway, this was kind of healing I wish I knew him back when I was in high school. Thanks @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for betaing and cheering me on!

“Sweet or salty?” you ask. Your head is buried in one of the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through a selection of snacks. 

Dieter sits on the counter opposite, watching you with a lazy smile. 

“Sweet,” he says. “No, wait. Salty.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your eyes bloodshot under heavy lids. 

“You’re so stoned,” you giggle. 

Dieter blushes. Despite the fact that he coughs after every hit, getting high with you after school has become his favorite past time. You never tease him for it, just put the joint between your lips while Dieter wonders if you can feel the warmth from his there. You’re both well and truly blazed at this point after smoking up in the dugout of the school's baseball field.

Dieter gazes over your body as you stand on tip toe, reaching for the top shelf. It’s like he can’t control his eyes from wandering to you when he’s like this. Sometimes you notice. 

“What?” you’ll say. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re paranoid,” he’ll lie. 

He wishes he was brave enough to tell you that he’s staring because he thinks you’re beautiful. 

It’s hard to believe that the two of you are actually friends now. He still remembers when you were assigned as his lab partner, a girl that he was equally drawn to and intimidated by.  

Now he’s in your house after school almost every day. 

“Honey?” your mother’s voice calls from the front door.

“Shit.” Dieter hops onto the floor before she enters the kitchen in a smart business outfit. 

“Oh, hi, Dieter,” she says, smoothing the bottom of her hair. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Dieter says. 

You stifle a laugh. 

“Dieter, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” your mother says.  

“Um okay,” he replies. He can’t remember her first name. She’s told him before. Does he seem stoned? Oh, god, he definitely does. 

She scrunches her nose.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Dieter’s stomach plummets. The two of you must reek of pot. He’s grown to like the scent– an earthy tang that now reminds him of you. He braces himself, trying to clear his foggy mind for a moment so he can’t act sober. 

“Somebody must’ve run over a skunk,” you say. “What’re you doing home so early?”

You change the subject so seamlessly. Of course. Nothing ever seems to scare you.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Vermont people but I left the damn file here,” she says, picking a folder up from the kitchen table. “I’ll be back late if we close the deal.”

“Good luck,” you say.

Dieter bursts with laughter as your mother goes out the front door. You join him, nearly doubling over with your giggles. 

“I was freaking out!” he tells you. “A skunk! I can’t believe she bought that.”

“I know, right? She’s clueless,” you chuckle. “Look.” 

You hold up your creation— a plate bursting with flavor and texture. It’s organized into little piles of treats— potato chips, Oreos, a handful of glistening strawberries. Chocolate covered pretzels rest beside dried cranberries and several ropes of licorice separate honey roasted peanuts from fun sized Kit Kats in glossy red wrappers. It’s a feast, every bite he could ever want just when he wants it the most. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he takes in this offering. 

Maybe it’s the pot buzzing around in his head but he can feel himself falling head over heels for you. He wants to kiss you but what if you don’t want to be kissed? What if you reject him? He could play it off as a joke like the one he told in the biology lab that got you to notice him for the first time. Humiliation he can handle but he’s not sure he could take that heartbreak. 

The cookies are calling his name so he abandons any dreams of filling his mouth with your tongue in favor of a Nutter Butter. 

There’s a big, L shaped couch in the basement that Dieter sprawls out on while he munches on the fruit. They might be the best strawberries he’s ever eaten. Everything tastes so good when he’s high. He wonders what you taste like. 

“Do you like Radiohead?” you ask sorting through a pile of cassettes. 

“Yeah. I love them,” he says. He’s only heard one of their songs on the radio but if you like them, he wants to like them, too. 

Dieter’s always tried to be cool. He has a lot working against him— built like a string bean, a goofy personality. His own fucking name has betrayed him. He got the same haircut as Leonardo DiCaprio, he saved up to buy a pair of fancy sneakers, he spends hours in the mirror carefully choosing his outfits. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. 

You, on the other hand, you’re cool. Effortlessly so in your black boots and chipped nail polish. It’s not just the music you listen to or the clothes you wear. There’s something in your attitude, an aloof confidence that he’s never been able to replicate. 

Despite his anxieties, you never make him feel judged. It seems like you enjoy introducing him to new things. You offered to make him a mixtape and it sent his heart fluttering. He’s shared a thing or two with you, too— leading you through the aisles of the local video store handing you his favorite obscure movies. Sometimes you laugh at his enthusiasm but it’s never mean spirited. 

You pop the tape in and climb up onto the sofa as rough guitar strums seep through the speakers. There’s something psychedelic in the music that has Dieter sinking deeper into his seat. 

Although there’s plenty of space, you sit alongside him, propping your feet up on the chaise beside his. Dieter’s pulse picks up. He’s so aware of you so close to him, each move of your muscles as you get comfortable. He can smell the pot tangled up in your hair and the fresh scent of cotton that always lingers on your clothes. 

“I like being high,” Dieter sighs. 

You laugh. He fucking loves the sound of it, wants to be a little clown to keep you giggling away.

“Give me a Kit Kat,” you say. 

The snack plate is balanced on Dieter’s lap so when you fish through it for the candy, he can feel the pressure of your touch right on his dick. He stifles a groan, trying to focus his attention on the crinkle of the wrapper in your hands. 

He’s touched himself to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit. There was an incident when you unexpectedly brushed your ass against him at your locker and he popped a boner. He had to take care of it in the bathroom, one hand cupping the tip of his cock as he came so he didn’t make a mess. 

“Dieter,” you say. His name sounds so sweet when you say it softly like that. 

“Yeah,” he replies. 

Some time in the last fifteen minutes, his mind wandered away and he got lost in the haze of his high. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before you got his attention or how long he’s been out of it. There’s just a warm feeling in his head and every once in a while he remembers that you’re sitting right next to him and he smiles to himself and then he floats away again. 

“You’re staring at me,” you say. 

You’re close, laying on the same couch cushion, your face just inches from his own. You have pretty eyes. Maybe that’s what he’s been looking at. Or your hair. He likes your hair. 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. There’s no denying it this time. 

Your lips curl into a smile and your eyes dance over his features. He feels himself leaning towards you like his head is too heavy to fight your magnetic pull. 

Your noses brush, that’s when he realizes that you’re moving towards him, too. Both of you hesitate there, an acknowledgement of this point of no return— your friendship will never be the same. 

You kiss him. At first it’s a cautious meeting of lips and, suddenly, a crash of passion and excitement. It’s sloppy and unchoreographed but the two of you find a rhythm. He can taste the chocolate in your kiss. 

You climb onto his lap, sliding your hands beneath his shirt. Having all of you there, straddling him like he’s in his own wet dream, is overwhelming. Blood rushes to his cock. There’s so much of you to explore— soft places to touch and hold and taste. He wants all of you all at once and you seem just as eager. 

Your mouth roams his neck and teeth rake against his earlobe as you rock over the bulge in his jeans. He’s so sensitive from the weed, he can practically feel the hot drag of your pussy even through the layers between you. 

Dieter fumbles with the clasp of your bra and you knock his hands away to do it for him, then unbutton your pants and do the same for him. He keeps his mouth on yours as you pull off his shirt with eager kisses. 

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s met with the slick lips of your pussy giving him a delicious shiver. You gasp and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

Now your hand finds him, coating his length with precum and tugging. 

“Oh god,” he chokes. He wills himself not to finish right there in your hand. 

Dieter presses a finger into your entrance, slow and cautious, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine the crush of it around him. The strokes on his cock stutter and slow as he thrusts deeper until eventually your limp hand simply holds him. He doesn’t care.  The feeling of you is addicting, all slippery and inviting. 

“Ow,” you complain. 

“Is this ok?” Dieter asks. 

“Don’t just finger me,” you complain. 

He blanches, unsure of how to correct himself. If you want more, he’s more than willing to give it to you but it has nerves churning in his belly. 

“I’ve never done it,” Dieter says. 

He immediately wishes he could take the words and swallow them back down. His neck burns with embarrassment. The coolest girl he’s ever met is letting him in her pants and he just spoiled it all by admitting he’s a virgin. 

You stare at him with big, round eyes, your lips swollen from kissing. Your adam’s apple bobs in your throat. 

“Me either,” you tell him. 

It’s Dieter’s turn to stare. He’s shocked. It seems like you’ve done everything already. At least, everything a high school senior would aspire to do. 

If you were embarrassed to tell him that, you don’t let it linger for long. “That wasn’t what I meant,” you say. “It just— I don't think I can come that way.”

Dieter nods in awe. This isn’t the first time he’s gone to third base but he hadn’t felt very sure of his technique during those few encounters. You look a little nervous, maybe for the first time ever, but he’s so impressed you’re confident enough to tell him what you want, to even know. He wants to give you exactly what you need. 

“Show me,” he says. “Show me what you like.”

Your pupils blow out and Dieter’s not sure which one of you is more aroused. Eventually you regain yourself, nodding quickly and climbing off of his lap so you can shimmy your pants all the way off. 

Dieter can’t help but stare at all the parts of you that are exposed. You’re so pretty he can hardly believe he gets to touch you. His cock throbs at the sight and he fists himself before realizing that he’d better stop if he wants to last more than half a minute. 

You lay back on the couch, parting your bent legs for Dieter. He sits up for a good view as you explain the secrets of the universe. You take his hand and guide his fingers to your pussy, carefully sliding them along the side of your clit. It’s velvety soft and warm and slick and you take in a sharp breath. His cock jumps. Again, a wet stroke over you. You set a pace, your hand around his as he makes you melt.

“Woah,” he whispers to himself as he watches your body respond. 

He’s not sure where to look; at the glistening lips of your pussy, a rare glimpse at the opposite sex in real life or at your face, eyes closed and brow knit as you float in ecstasy. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He forgets the throbbing between his own legs, entranced by your pleasure. Your grip around his hand slackens and Dieter experiments with slightly faster strokes, kissing your neck. Your pulse thrums under his lips, your whines vibrating. 

As he gathers more slick from your entrance, you grind your clit into the heel of his hand. Your hips lift from the wet patch that’s growing beneath you. Dieter keeps his hand planted on you, giving you all the friction you need. 

He tries to find a way to tell you to use him, to take what you need, but he’s speechless. Watching a girl get off on him, and not just any girl but you, feels like witnessing a miracle. 

Your muscles tighten, every single tendon in your body wrapped up like a rubber band about to snap. He can’t help himself. Dieter slides a finger inside of you. It feels even better than before, now that your walls are coated in that sweet release. 

That’s when it crashes over you. You lock up, your arms and thighs straining. He can feel your core tensing around him desperately and he thinks he might cum just from the sight of you like this. It’s not like he’s seen in porn. You’re quiet, focused, somewhere else and he wants to go there, wherever that planet of pleasure might be. 

He wants to kiss you, to taste your release and bury his face in your tits but he doesn’t dare move and ruin this exquisite moment for you. So he keeps moving with the same steady tempo as you flutter around him. 

You groan out his name, long and slow and it sounds like music. 

Dieter feels his hips jerk and, oh fuck, he’s cumming. He tears his hand away from you to squeeze it over his spasming cock. It’s too late and the wet press of you coated on his fingers doesn’t help. He paints his torso with his own warm, sticky spend. 

You stare, eyes wildly surveying the mess on his belly, still dazed as you come down. 

He should be mortified that he just blew his load all over himself the very first time he’s gotten physical with you but his veins are coursing with bliss. His head falls back, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

“I really like you,” he says. 

Your face breaks out in a smile and you bashfully bite your lip. He feels your fingers intertwine with his own. 

“Yeah. I like you too,” you say. 

-

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and my asks are always open!

[justporo]

Hi sweetheart if your request is open I want to request a nsfw and or sfw alphabet for Astarion 🥰

Hello my sweet, Anon, and thank you! Oh exciting, I like these, so I'm happy someone asked me to do this. This will be SFW but maybe I'll do a NSFW version too - if people want it?

I used this wonderful template by @the-coldest-goodbye (thank you for making this!)

Also let's call this

Fluffy relationship headcanons about Astarion and Tav (in alphabetic order)

(Because I know the word headcanon is somewhat of a Pavlov'sch bell for some people here, hihi~)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very much so. Once Astarion really grabs onto the concept of having someone he deeply and truly loves, he tells them every moment of every day. He compliments them, showers them in gifts, his flirtatious behaviour never stops. But oh yeah, they also bicker like an old married couple - it's their love language.

Also he’s very keen to keep his hands on you, PDA: oh hells yeah, showing the whole world you belong to him, also you’re just that yummy.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Pure chaotic goblin energy. If you’re best friends with Astarion you’re most likely enabling each other to commit arson on a daily basis – and you love it.

You most likely stumbled over each other, each thought “what a dickhead, looks so dumb…”, figured you were equally sassy and were inseparable from there on out. Because the best friendships start with thinking “ugh, this dumb idiot…”

Also being in a relationship with Astarion means also being his best friend and having chaotic gremlin moments – like for example grouping up on Gale to shittalk him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is a kind of unusual concept for Astarion at first, like with any kind of non-sexual intimacy. But he very quickly figures out he loves cuddling. Just normal hugging, holding you standing behind you with his arms around your waist. But he also enjoys it so so much when he’s being held, just knowing your arms are his safe haven.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Honestly, after everything? Yes – at least for quite some time I guess Astarion wants to settle down, have some time to figure himself out but also enjoying some mundance peace and quiet with Tav – with the biggest worry being what he’ll wear this night.

He’s shit tho at all the domestic shit. He doesn’t know how to cook or anything else and frankly he has never needed to because even before being turned he lived the comfortable live of a noble. Tav’s going to have to teach him a thing or two on how not to be so messy…

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Despite that I am 1000% convinced that Tav and Astarion are endgame… Quickly, I believe, like ripping a bandaid off, but making sure to really get the point across on why.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The idea of commitment might scare Astarion, the idea of having Tav forever does not. So I guess he would actually come around to the idea although you both assure each other it’s not to prove something. Also Astarion does joke about it – because he loves thinking about it, to have someone who’s loving him until the end of time.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

So gentle, almost chaste, especially at first. Yeah yeah, he knows every trick in the book when it comes to sex, but exploring what a committed relationship can feel like? Sharing small moments of intimacy, opening up his feelings that he never really allowed himself to have before.

That being said I believe the first time Tav and Astarion sleep with each other after he’s freed: it’s like it’s his first time, fully there, bravely letting himself fall into your open loving arms, experiencing for the first time what it means to be this kind of intimate with someone you love more than anything else in this world.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Something he also didn’t really quite get until he shared it with Tav – and then the other ones who became his friends. He relishes hugs as something that really make him feel at peace. And he does become a hugger, at least with Tav: small, quick hugs to full-blown embraces – although these are something he likes to enjoy only with you. Oh, and they’re wonderful hugs: not too strong, not too weak, although Astarion might be a bit of a clinger, especially in the beginning, when he can never get enough.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Tav says it first, but he’s pretty brave and pretty sure about his feelings (at least about how hard he’s fallen once he accepts the initial fact), so pretty quickly. And after that: AT. ANY. POSSIBLE. MOMENT.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealous, but reasonably so. Like he can obviously differentiate if you’re just friends with someone or if it might even just be flirty banter (because he’s also guilty as charges with that) but someone hits on you, you’re definitely not interested, the other person keeps pushing? He’ll be ready to rip their throat out. He gets protective. This being said, his jealousy is always focused on the other party pushing a toe out of line, not you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Everything? Everywhere? All at once?

Of course his kisses are perfect, he likes to kiss every inch of your body and loves when you repay him for that in like. Although like with other intimate moments it’s still something new to him because there are a lot of feelings in it now.

Also Astarion and Tav love to annoy each other with giving each other big wet smooches when the other person is being annoying or just needs a lip-smacking reminder of affection.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

“You’re so gross, Astarion.”

“Why is cute, when Scratch does it, but not when I do it?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT A DOG, ASTARION!”

“I mean I could bark if you wanted me to.”

Children can be annoying them because “ugh, why are they so loud and smelly… and sticky” but Astarion loves the chaotic energy kids have. And if the other companion’s would ever bring kids over he would absolutely incite them to cause chaos all around, teach them naughty words, give them candy so they get a sugar rush when they should actually go to bed.

And Astarion is good at telling kids captivating stories, so he becomes the resident storyteller when friends with kids come visit.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) (or in his case evenings, I figure)

Slow, full of cuddles and “five more minutes, my love, please” – basically he loves to just hang around with you in bed. He also takes his sweet time getting ready after waking up – A) because he can B) “when you look this good…”; once he figures out what Tav’s favourite hot beverage is in the morning, he’d learn how to brew it perfectly and bring it to them when he’s feeling generous.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) (and here days, accordingly)

Even more cuddles, talking before bed, talking after going to bed, probably having lots of wine while doing so – or just lounging around reading with his head in your lap while you detangle his soft curls.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Slowly at first but then more and more. But there’s just as much for him to unpack as there is for you to learn and take in. But Astarion learns quickly that you’re a good person to open up to: he feels safe and seen with you. And even if it doesn’t fix all his trauma right away – telling you, it really helps.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Astarion has more than a bit of temper. He can get very easily annoyed especially by little, seemingly unimportant things. He can snap at you but he tries to take a quick breather then and work through it and apologises – even though this too is something he learns slowly.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I think he memorizes a lot about everyone anyway, because it’s a survival instinct to gather all possible information that might become helpful. But besides that: once Astarion is all aboard the relationship train, he will absolutely remember everything – probably even better than you. That’s also why he gets you the best gifts, because he listens, when you tell him something that you would like.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He holds the memory of this first special hug very close and dear in his heart. Because he remembers how incredibly frightened he was how scary that leap was. But there you were quite literally with open arms and an open heart.

But there’s lots more moments. When you bought the house in Baldur’s Gate and he could carry you inside the first time cheekily in bridal style? The first gift you ever gave him for your first anniversary? There’sso many and he collects them like precious little treasures.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very, oh he’s so very protective. And he will cut someone if the need arises. He might actually even be a bit too eager about it. And he likes when you’re protective of him as well – and let’s be honest you’re just as eager to keep him safe.

Nobody touches you or him – or they get the sharp end of a knife.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Everyday stuff, oh eeeeh, it’s hard. Astarion is just so not used to it, but he tries. He really does. And gifts, dates and all? Firstly, he finds out that he’s very much a romantic. Secondly, this man does not do things like this lightly, because “if we were going to be basic about it, we don’t have to do it at all”.

And he regularly outdoes himself trying to spoil you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

As much as he tries to be open and learn. The habits of 200 years die hard. Sometimes when he feels backed into a corner he snaps and he can be very much hurtful. And as much as you want to pretend you rationally know it better, you do get angry sometimes, you do feel hurt. And you do have fights.

But at latest when tempers are cooled again, you always get back around to talking it through and learning something from it. The two of you never go to bed angry with each other – that’s an unspoken agreement.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Astarion deeply is a creature of vanity. He cares about his looks almost as much as he cares about Tav. And it can annoying, but then again: he deserves to treat himself and he deserves all the swooning and pining and compliment you can give him – and you happily supply.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Let me cite a fic of mine and although Tav says it, Astarion feels very much the same:

“I love you so much, I would give up everything for you, if only it meant I could still be with you. I would burn this whole world down if it meant, I could keep you safe. I would walk with you to the end of the universe if it was what you needed to be happy. And if I ever where to leave this earthly world behind, I believe my soul would find you again – and again and again – because I’m half and only ever whole with you.”

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

It’s hard to say that he has no regrets. And surely Astarion would never want to go through all his trauma again, but yet… in the end he met you, didn’t he?

In the end he found you and you became his light.

Sometimes he thinks about that as you lay beside him dreaming. He softly moves a strand of hair out of your closed eyes and thanks whatever God has sent you his way

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Plainly, if they saw him in a way like probably everyone did for the past two centuries and if he felt used by them. But you’re you and would never do that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He doesn’t know it but he tends to be a clinger when he’s in his dreamful trance. And maybe this is only a thing he developed since the two of you have been together, but he sometimes wakes you because in his sleep he pulls you to him so you’re left with nothing but snuggling up to him – becoming his life size teddy bear.

You’d never have it any other way!

(Also sorry for swinging between Tav/you - I'm just so used to 2nd person perspective while writing, oops)

[wandasreallover]

The Assistant|elizabeth Olsen

Warnings:none, kinda mean lizzie tho

Elizabeth has had a lot of things on her plate lately but still refuses her need for an assistant. She was running herself into the ground between projects and overall management of her career. Eventually, Her sisters, tired of watching lizzie destroy herself take it upon themselves to hire her an Assistant despite her protests. It took them a while but they wanted only the best, which is how they found you. you are one of the best celebrity assistants out there. Anyone that you have worked for has had nothing bad to say regarding your work ethic.

At first lizzie treats you like shit riddiculing every little thing from the way you dress to the way you do your job in general. She was too proud to admit she needed help so she had to find a way to make you quit but it wasn't working, it only seemed to make you work harder.

Eventually, she learns to co exist with you and slowly comes to realisation of how much you actually do for her with little to no breaks. As time went by she found herself how staring at you throughout the day. She also took note of the way your cheeks would flush everytime she gave you even the slightest of praise or compliment. She found herself growing more fond of you as the days past which eventually lead her to make the decision to break the tension in your relationship.

It had been a particularly hectic day, Elizabeth called you into her office to go over some important documents. As you were sitting across from her, the tension in the room was palpable. She couldn't keep her eyes off of you and you couldn't help but get flustered under her gaze. She leaned forward and placed her hand on top of yours,noticing you squirm as she did so, causing you to look up at her in surprise. Her eyes softened as she spoke an almost guilty look on her face.

'I just wanted to thank you for everything you do for me. I know I haven't been the easiest to work with, but you've stuck by me through it all. I don't know what I would do without you,' she said sincerely.

You couldn't help but feel touched by her words. Despite her initial coldness towards you, you had grown to admire and respect Elizabeth for her hard work and talent.while also developing a small crush on her.

'It's my pleasure, Elizabeth. I'm just happy to be a part of your team,' you replied with a smile.

She smiled back at you, her hand still resting on yours. You couldn't deny the chemistry between the two of you, but you knew it was inappropriate to act on it and professionalism is something you pride yourself on. Something that stemmed from the extreme academic validation you craved throughout your highschool school experience.

the days went by and Elizabeth became more and more open with you, confiding in you about her personal life and even inviting you out for drinks after work. You found yourself falling for her even more, but you were hesitant to make a move too scared to taint your reputation of perfection.

One evening, after a few too many drinks, Elizabeth leaned in and whispered in your ear, 'I have a confession to make. I've had feelings for you for a while now.'

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability in them. She slowly began to lean in and despite your voice of reason telling you not to you followed her lead and kissed her back, the sexual tension and longing between you finally released.

From that moment on, your relationship with Elizabeth changed. You were no longer just her assistant, but her partner in both work and life. And as her career continued to skyrocket, you were right there by her side, supporting her every step of the way.

Working for Elizabeth had its challenges, but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. You had found love in the most unexpected place, and you were grateful for every moment you got to spend with her.

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Could you do the mercs with an s/o who is like- almost comically short?

Oh boy wouldn’t it be a shame if this anon asked me to do a size difference nsfw headcanons one next? Wink wink.

Mercs with an S/O who’s a small menace to society

WARNING: Older bigger men bullying the ever living shit out you. (kinda hot though?)

Scout:

- Scout will not hesitate to make fun of you at every given moment. He’s a decently tall dude so he’ll manhandle you a lot. Holding you in his arms like a personal teddy bear. Overall walking around with you in his arms.

- You bite his arms when you’re bored and he flinches and goes “Ow! What are you? A fuckin’ goblin?!” (Doesn’t he know? The smaller you are, the closer you are to hell.)

- “I could probably slug you into the stratosphere y’know.” He says. You don’t want to test that theory.

- When he’s upset he’ll pick you up, go into his quarters and lay there with you in his arms. Just like the aforementioned teddy bear analogy. If you’re screeching and biting like a fucked up chihuahua that doesn’t deter him.

————————————————————————

Soldier:

- Keeps giving you petnames like “Boot.” “Little one.” “Rat bastard.” (Ignore that last one.) and cheesy shit like that. Treats you how a rich middle aged white woman would treat her teacup pig. You’re being strapped to his back in a baby carrier while he rocket jumps.

- Gets incredibly rough with you on purpose. He likes seeing your squeaks and angry reactions. This guy definitely has a height difference thing. Throws you at enemy lines at like mach 20 knowing full well you’ll shred them like a fucking gremlin. Or stuffs you into his rocket launcher. Pick your evil.

- Lies about you being younger in order to pay less in restaurants. He somehow gets away with this 90 percent of the time. Spy is kind of envious that he didn’t even think of that.

- “NO! WAIT! DONT SHOOT! HANGFIRE! CHILD ON BATTLEFIELD!” He raises you above his head. You’re unbelievably pissed. You’re a grown ass adult. But the enemy lines somehow hesitate which abides him time to blow everyone up. He has no reason to be this smart about your height.

——————————————————————-

Demoman:

- The first time he saw you he burst out laughing. Really hard. Like nearly fell over and shit. He couldn’t stop laughing like actually. It took him days to even approach you properly and finally call you adorable.

- Picks you up when you can’t reach something off the top shelf and instead of helping you get it, he just sits you atop the shelf and leaves you there. They have to call either Heavy or Sniper in order to get you down.

- You take advantage of your height and perch on his shoulders like a parrot. The other mercs don’t understand why Demoman has a pet gremlin.

- “Er’ is my crotch goblin Y/N. They’re gonna bite your dick off if ye cap this point lad!” You can’t say you disagree with that.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- A romantic partner whose tinier than him? Sign him the fuck up. Cradles you like a baby and kisses your head. Bounces you on his lap to soothe you. Expect a lot of sitting outside on the rocking chair at night while he rocks you in a blanket.

- You make grabby hands to him for uppies and he feels like he’s not allowed to say no. “Aww, sugarplum…” He cooes, setting down whatever he was working on and lifting you up into his arms. He might tickle your tummy if you’re fine with that :)

- Picks you up by the scruff of your uniform like a mother cat when you’re misbehaving. He will stare in amusement if you struggle.

- “Careful outside on the Badlands, darlin.. Never know when one of ‘em damn condors might be circling you.” You can’t decide if you want to kiss this man or kill him.

———————————————————————-

Heavy:

- You’re literally so small he’s scared of accidentally stepping on you or something. Always has to wiggle his way around you in the base corridors and mutter what you assume to be an apology in Russian. What you don’t know is that he’s actually cursing out the Administrator for hiring such a tiny Merc. What if you get squashed by falling debris or something?

- HE PICKS YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. YOU ARE IN HIS FUCKING FIST. YOU ARE BEING HELD LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE.

- Treats you like a fucking stress ball. scoops you up in his hands and squishes your cheeks. Lays you on his lap like a small kitten belly up. No amount of biting or awful demon noises will ever convince him to do otherwise. Chuckles lovingly at your tiny anger. “Little, little, little. Tiny like the ant.” He baby talks you.

- Due to your height it’s impossible to bother him. Unlike the others. You can gnaw at his ankles and scratch at his chest but he remains unmoved like a large boulder. Threatens to splat you against the wall like one of those rubber toys and turn you into a pancake.

——————————————————————-

Pyro:

- In his point of view you’re actually terrifying. He doesn’t know why. But you stand out from the rest in their beloved Pyroland. You’re a creature from the primordial depths of hell that has come to eat their soul. You’re uncanny as shit.

- When they meet you for the first time it takes for godamn ever for the Mercs to finally figure out why Pyro was behaving so erratically and out of character. Engineer finally convinces poor Pyro to speak to you and it doesn’t end up in vain. You’re actually a pleasant scary monster.

- Spies don’t scare them. Pyro can kill spies with no effort. But you? Holy shit. Sometimes he doesn’t hear you come up behind them and this usually leads to Pyro spontaneously crying because you startled them. (Your team’s Spy is VERY envious of this.)

- You think this is great! You decide to play a prank on them by crawling on all fours down the dark hallway. Pyro looks like a deer in headlights. All tensed up like a cat attempting to look bigger. Two seconds later the entire base is on fire. You have to explain yourself to the other Mercs how this happened and it’s embarrassing.

- Whenever you kill someone on the battlefield it’s horrific shrieking mixed in with fleshy eating sounds.

—————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Calls you stuff like “Baby bear.” Mostly because he purposely holds you like a mama koala in his camper van’s bed and in the sniper nests. You cling to his lap and listen to his heartbeat while he scopes out the window.

- Same as scout to some extent. Carries you around wherever he goes and holds you like a plush doll. “Easy there on the lil’ daggers, mate.” You keep digging into his skin to hold steady.

- Growls at you when you bite him. Something about you both is evil and animalistic. Bites you back on your “scruff” when you bother him too much. He wants to shake you around in his teeth like a fucking chewtoy but he knows full well that might accidentally kill you. Has straight up cute aggression around you.

- Sniper your furry is showing. Helen, get yo fuckin dog bitch.

——————————————————————

Medic:

- “Well it seems you stopped growing at a certain age. That typically is due to genetics and other factors.” He says after looking at X-rays of your finger bones. Tracing his finger over the image of your growth plates as he squints to see better. He fixes his glasses back up on his nose and scratches his chin.

- He gives you a mischievous side smile. It’s unsettling. He secretly finds the size difference incredibly attractive. He tells you to take the lead vest off and waves his hand dismissively when you question his creepy expression. “What?! It is just my usual smile. I always look like this.”

- You’re not convinced. You take the vest off and straighten your team uniform a bit to get yourself situated. Without warning he grabs you by the wrist as you attempt to leave. “Ah-ba-ba-ba! I didn’t say you could go yet.” He pulls you against his chest. Forcibly. His natural heat was causing your heart beat out of your chest. He kneeled down and wrapped his arms around you. Cupping a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t move.

- The way you were (in theory) powerless was exhilarating for him. He placed his free hand on your chest and marveled in your heartbeat. Really? That’s all he wanted? Medic let out a long pleasured sigh. “Oh, that’s gooood.” He feels like he could potentially hold your tiny heart in a cute little decorated specimen jar but that would kill you, sadly. Can’t have that.

———————————————————————

Spy:

- Has unimaginable amounts of trauma from his father figure and you help him cope with said trauma a lot by being small. He deeply regrets passing by the chance of raising Scout. That in-and-itself was also a traumatic experience for him. Whenever it isn’t romantic lovey dovey adult time you lay in his arms and he looks over your adorable small body with adoration in his eyes.

- He rubs your small cheek and although he’s still frowning like always — you know full well this man is losing his mind on the inside. This was oddly healing for him. He felt butterflies in his chest as he gave you the love that his family never gave him. Jesus christ, somebody get this man a silicone baby or some shit. And a therapist. Mostly a therapist.

- He has no idea how to baby you to be honest. No fucking clue and he isn’t great at this. He does what he’s seen people do before in public. Wrap you in a blanket and pats your back. He says nothing as he does this. “There’s a scared little boy behind that mask isn’t there?” You ask him lovingly.

- He avoids eye contact after you say that. Looking away shamefully. His mouth twitches. You put your head under his chin contently.

- He stalks you and monitors you on the battlefield. Ready to stab the ever living crap out of anyone who overpowers you. In a particularly rough situation with an enemy heavy he risks his own life to backstab the opponent. You batter him for being too bold and exclaim that he could’ve killed himself. But Spy side eyes you, fixing his tie and cloaking away. He was secretly proud of himself that he had finally managed to protect somebody smaller than him. To make up for all the times he wasn’t there for Scout.

[mynameismckenziemae]

In Case You Didn’t Know

Part 5

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OFC

Summary: Jake takes you on the date he wishes he would’ve all those years ago.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (m receiving), etc.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake’s phone vibrates on his nightstand as he gets into bed.

🐓: So? Did you talk? Was I right?

Jake: Yeah we talked.

🐓: And?

Jake: …you were right.

🐓: HELL YEAH! I fucking knew it! You could cut the tension between you two with a knife. Did you…you know 😏

Jake: I want to take her out on date first.

🐓: Where are you gonna take her?

Jake: I don’t know, kind of limited with the leg. I just want it to be special.

🐓: Where did you take girls for dates in high school? Do that with her.

Jake: We’d pick up food at the local car hop, park somewhere to eat then fool around in my truck bed.

🐓: Sounds…great?

Jake: 🖕🏻there wasn’t much to do for teenagers around here back then. But honestly, I think Charlie would love it. I’d have to ask my sister for my truck back though. She takes care of it while I’m gone for me.

🐓: Emma? She’s a 10 🥵

Jake: No.

🐓: She single yet?

Jake: She’s not interested.

🐓: So she is single.

Jake: I’m going to bed.

🐓: You realize I’m going to meet her at your wedding, right? You’re just putting off the inevitable.

Jake: Goodnight Bradshaw.

Jake smirks at the thought. Bradshaw probably thinks Jake’s just being a protective older brother but it’s just the opposite. Emma looks like a sweet southern belle but she would eat him alive.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

He hesitates before biting the bullet and texting Emma; he’s always been a little scared of her.

Jake: Hey Emma Lou.

Emma: Hey! When did you make landfall? Everything go okay?

Jake: Almost 2 weeks, and not really. I was hit on the way back to the carrier and had to eject. I broke my leg and got a little beat up on the way down. I left the hospital forgetting Ma and Dad are gone so I’m staying with Charlie. They don’t know yet, please keep it that way. You know how much this trip means to them. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, my head was a little messed up and just didn’t want you to worry or take time off from that new job.

Emma: WTF!?!?? That’s fucking bullshit, Jake. I’m a large animal vet with 2 partners that are happy to cover for me. I wouldn’t have had an issue getting off of work and you know it.

Jake: I do know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.

Emma: No shit.

Emma: Are you okay?

Jake: Getting there. Charlie’s been doing my PT, I saw ortho and that’s healing okay. I have a video visit with a therapist tomorrow.

Emma: Therapist?

Jake: Diagnosed me with PTSD after the accident. I’m feeling better already but if I don’t go to therapy they’ll ground me longer.

Emma: The Navy grounding you will be the least of your worries once Mom finds out. I’m not gonna be the one telling her.

Jake: Thanks. I really am sorry. Any chance you’re coming this way in the next few days? I need the truck if you don’t.

Emma: How are you gonna drive it? Not sure how bad you hit your head but you need 2 feet for a manual.

Jake: I’m not, Charlie’s going to.

Emma: Did she get new furniture and not tell me?

Jake: No…it’s a lot to text. I’d rather tell you in person.

Emma: I’ve got a sick heifer to see in the morning but otherwise I’m free. I’ll be there around 11. I think Lee’s got a vet call in the area around 2 so I’ll see if he’ll take me back home so you can keep the truck.

Jake: Sounds good. Love you.

Emma: I’m still mad, but I love you too.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake’s up before you and has a cup of coffee waiting as you stumble into the kitchen with a yawn.

“Don’t make plans tonight. I’ve got something in mind,” he says, leaning on his good leg before pulling you into his chest.

“Mmkay,” you yawn, snuggling into his chest like you’ve always wanted to with his hugs. “Can’t wait.”

“I told Emma last night, she’s going to come over around 11 so we can talk,” Jake cringes.

“Will she be gone by the time I get back?” You joke, all too familiar with her temper.

“Why? You scared?” He teases.

“Yes. I know you are too,” you laugh.

You let him hold you for a few minutes, both enjoying the intimacy.

“I’d ask you to join me in the shower but that’s an accident waiting to happen,” you smile, pulling away from his chest to press a kiss to his lips.

His eyes fall closed at your words. “Soon enough.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake stares at your butt in your scrubs from the porch as you walk to your car. You catch him looking as you open the door and quirk a brow at his sheepish grin.

“Can’t figure out if you’re wearing underwear, I didn’t see any panty lines.”

“You don’t get panty lines if you wear a thong,” you wink as you get in, laughing at the way his eyes widen.

You’re normally a no-show underwear kind of girl, but you felt like wearing something sexy today when Jake said he had plans.

You give him a little wave as you head to work.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Jake had just finished his virtual visit with the therapist when Emma pulls up in his grandpa’s old Chevy that he and his dad fixed up together.

Emma gives him a bone-crushing hug before smacking him upside the head.

“Ow,” Jake grumbles, rubbing the spot she hit him.

“You deserve a lot more than that. You’re lucky you’re injured,” Emma says before bending down to greet Cash.

“So why does Charlie need the truck?” Emma asks, throwing Cash’s ball.

“She doesn’t. I’m taking her out tonight. Well, she’s driving but I’m planning it.”

“Taking her out where? Why do you need the truck for that?”

“Ray’s and then up to Breakneck Hill,” he responds, not looking at her.

“Isn’t that where you used take your dates to park?”

“Yep.”

It takes her a minute to catch on, but she jumps to her feet with a whoop when she does.

“Seriously?!” She laughs, “Man, it’s about fucking time.”

He looks at her puzzledly.

“You’ve been in love with each other for years,” she sighs. “That’s a great idea though. I just washed ‘er so the bed is clean. Want me to throw some blankets back there for you?”

“I didn’t think that far, but yeah, that’s a good idea.”

20 minutes later, Emma’s got the back of the truck filled with blankets and pillows, a perfect place to eat and watch the sunset.

“Perfect! Now you have a place to stretch out and bang. Do you need condoms? Wait no, forget them. I’m ready to be an auntie,” Emma says as she steps back to look.

“Uh, no. We haven’t-I mean, we aren’t-“ Jake stutters, flushing bright red.

“I’m kidding, Jesus. Don’t stroke out on me. Got anything for lunch?” Emma laughs, patting Jake on the shoulder, right where he’s bruised.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

Emma wraps his cast and stays nearby just in case he falls while he showers.

“Lee’s almost here,” Emma says, giving Jake another hug. “Let me know how it goes. And tell Charlie I’m not mad at her, just you.”

Jake rolls his eyes but hugs her back. “Will do. Thanks, Em, love ya.”

“Love you too, don’t forget to forget the condoms!” She replies as she heads out the door.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

You smile when you see Jake’s old truck in the driveway, wondering what he’s up to.

Jake’s asleep on the couch when you get inside, but he wakes up when you close the door.

“Oh hey, sorry I must’ve fallen asleep after Emma left,” he yawns.

“Let me change and I’ll be ready to go,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek and slipping off your top as you walk down the hall.

Jake sgets down the stairs and hobbles along to the driver's side of the truck, awkwardly opening the door for you.

“You want me to drive? I don’t think I’ve driven it since you got too wasted to drive at Clay Williams's graduation party,” you laugh, climbing up.

“Ugh, I can’t even smell Jäegermeister without gagging,” Jake shivers as he closes the door.

You lean over and open the passenger side, taking the crutches he hands over. He surprises you with how easily manages to get in with one leg.

“Where to?” You ask, pushing in the clutch and starting the truck.

“Ray’s,” he answers with a smile.

“Then to Breakneck to fool around?” You guess, wiggling your brows.

He nods. “Only if you want to, we don’t-“

“I want to. I’ve always wanted to,” you reply, leaving out how jealous you’d get when he’d take girls out there.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

An hour later you’re sharing a chocolate milkshake in the back of the truck. It’s just the two of you in the empty lot.

“I wonder what my mom would think of us being together,” you say as you watch the sunset. The sky is a beautiful canvas of pinks, oranges, and reds.

“I think she’d like it,” he replies.

A flicker of movement catches your eye and you hold your breath when a butterfly lands on the hand that’s holding yours. It rests for just a moment, slowly flapping its orange wings before flying away.

“Me too,” you whisper.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“So what’s next? We ate our burgers, shared the milkshake, and watched the sunset. Is it a dry handjob while you rub me through my underwear for 10 seconds then ask if I came?”

“How’d you know?” He teases, leaning in for a kiss.

He kisses you slowly and lazily, committing every sigh to memory. As his tongue flicks yours you can’t help but imagine it elsewhere.

You soon grow impatient and find yourself straddling his lap again.

“Jake, touch me. Please?” You pant.

“‘Course sweetheart. Here?” He asks, pulling the top of your sundress down, exposing your braless chest to him. “Damn, Charlie,” he rasps, looking over your breasts hungrily before sucking a hardened bud into his mouth. His fingers come up to pay attention to the neglected side and he alternates; biting, sucking, and pinching you into a frenzy.

You find his free hand and bring it under your dress, running his fingers over the soaked material of your thong. He shudders when he feels the evidence of what he’s doing to you.

Before his fingers even touch you without the barrier of your underwear, you cry out, your fingers in his hair pull; your orgasm taking you both by surprise.

“Did you cum?” He chuckles breathlessly against your chest as you come down.

“I did,” you smirk, trying to catch your breath too as you climb off him, then unbuttoning his jeans. “Your turn, but I want to get my mouth on you.”

Your eyes widen as you pull him out. “Jesus. Not sure if you’ll fit, but I’m gonna try.”

“That’s not…I didn’t know that was an option-oh fuckkkk,” he gasps when you pull his tip into your mouth.

Your eyes drift closed and you moan at the salty taste of his precum. More you think as you swallow and suck more of him into your mouth, using your hands to stroke his base.

He’s making the hottest, most desperate sounds as his chest heaves. It hasn’t even been a minute before he’s warning you. “Char-Charlie, wait sweetheart. I’m gonna cum,” He pants, gently tugging at your hair to pull you off.

But you shake your head and moan; you want to taste it.

“Oh…oh God,” he whimpers as he finishes in your mouth, jolting when he feels you swallow his spend.

You pull up the top of your dress after you release it from your mouth and gently tuck him back into his jeans. He surprises you when he pulls you up for a deep kiss, groaning when he tastes himself on your tongue.

“You’re…that was…holy shit,” Jake chuckles. “So much better than a dry handjob.”

You laugh before pulling him back in for a kiss.

You’re so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice the squad car pulling into the lot.

The smug voice of the local police officer over the megaphone has you jumping apart.

“Keep it in your pants ‘til you get home, Seresin. Don’t make me call your mama.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: First date ✅

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging:

@mamachasesmayhem

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@lexixstewart

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

[kuchikopi33]

Thinking about how you and College!Levi got together....

wc: 1131

This is my first ever post! Please don't judge me if this is horrible I'm just a girl :(

Thinking about College!Levi and how you get together…  (fem!reader)

You and him had been (best) friends for months, awkwardly dancing around the obvious romantic tension that was lingering between you two. You never thought you were a coward, but it truly scared the shit out of you when you thought about telling him how you felt. He wasn’t scary—no, he was all things good and kind. Contrary to popular belief at your college, Levi wasn’t a stone cold, stick-up-the-ass loner who took no interest in anything that remotely involves human interaction. Levi was fun, hilarious, and a man of honor and morals. He never fails to tip more than is needed or expected when you guys are out, he never turns down an offer to watch movies all night at your place while talking shit about your classmates, and he always lends you his jacket when you (conveniently) forget to bring one for the second time that week. 

He’s just so great. Great is an understatement. Levi is amazing. You would hate to ruin what you have, a true friendship. You can’t predict what Levi’s response would be. Would he be turned off? Would he distance himself because he doesn’t feel the same way? Would he kiss you? Okay,  that one might not be a bad outcome.

Levi calls your name, successfully pulling you out from your pondering, his hands crossed and body sat up on your bed. You almost feel bad. He’s been here for a half hour to work on your english project, and all you can seem to think about is how much you care for him. You’ve never been this soft in your life. 

“What’s up?” You hum from your place on the bed.

“This project is due in four days, and we’ve yet to even go over what the hell we’re even doing. What’s stuck in that stupid head of yours?” Levi snarks. 

Keyword, almost. 

“My stupid head?” You ask incredulously, with a slight smile. You hate that he makes you smile even when he’s calling you stupid. “I’m not the one who picked me to be your partner. That was on you.” You couldn’t have used any other word than partner?

Levi’s movements stutter there, “You’re the only one I can remotely tolerate in that class. I’ve seen the others, they can’t even write a thesis,” he says. You laugh softly, as you know that he’s bluffing. You also are familiar with your classmate’s work, and it’s nothing short of decent. Levi glances at you, eyes set on your upturned lips. You immediately feel butterflies, and you internally curse yourself for acting like such a cliche middle-school child. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Levi says, with a look on his face that almost makes him look amused. 

You falter, “What question?”

He rolls his eyes—his perfect, beautiful, silver eyes— and asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“Just how the fuck Professer Davis could assign us this project without giving us any kind of rubric or expectations, or even a sense of what he wants from us,” you lie. You hope the stumbling of your words comes off as anger-induced speaking rather than nerves. 

Levi doesn’t look satisfied with your answer, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he looks back at his computer. “What are you doing tonight?” 

Your eyebrows raise, he’s never asked that. Usually you just whine for him to stay and watch a movie, and he makes a gruffly remark about how you’re annoying, all the while sitting back, and grabbing a piece of candy from your own bag. 

“Really nothing, just probably watch a couple of episodes of some trashy reality tv show,” you say, “why?’ 

Levi pauses, for some reason it looks as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. You catch this and try to encourage him, you soften your gaze, and smile. 

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out tonight,” Levi mumbles. For a man that doesn’t wince when he saw a garden snake on the college’s trail (true story), he looks incredibly nervous. 

You give him a deadpan look, “Levi, you look like you just asked for one of my kidneys. Of course you can!” You chuckle, internally questioning his sudden mood shift. You really wanted to add that you would give your kidney for him if he asked, but atlas, that’s an inside thought. 

He looks almost relieved. His (beautiful) lips upturn at the slightest angle, unoticeable to anyone who isn’t well versed in the expressions of Levi. You’re then taken out of your thoughts when he lifts his eyes to yours. He doesn’t have the usual neutral, subtly dickish look, it’s…softer. 

He’s making it so fucking hard not to kiss him. 

“It’s rude to assume though, right?” he grumbled. 

“Not with you,” you reply without second thought. Fuck. You quickly find yourself and causally (you hope) turn to your computer, praying that the thick tension in the air would dissipate. You don’t look back up at him. Typing needlessly at your computer at what looks like a terrible and incoherent essay draft. 

You hate this. You’ve always been inpatient. You were always the one to admit to your crush that you like them without waiting a second moment, but you find yourself. Levi is still looking at you when you glance up from your laptop, and you have to admit that you’re incredibly nervous as of now. Levi doesn’t make eye contact like this. Levi doesn’t look like anyone like this. Levi doesn’t like you, right?

You’re really trying not to look at him, but it’s hard not to when you can literally feel his eyes burning into your skull. But you do, as casually as you possibly can, and give him the look of a girl who holds absolutely no feelings for the (very) attractive man in front of him. Although, you swear you can feel beads of sweat form across your forehead. 

“Why are you looking at me like that Ackerman?” You say with a casual smile on your face, “You’re scaring me!”

He lets out a sound under his breath that almost resembles a breath of a laugh. Your smile widens, questioning him in his silence. You usually have to hold back the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up (endearingly of course). Instead he just…stares. 

“Do you wanna go out tonight?” Levi finally mutters. He face conveying a look of nervousness you’ve never seen on him. It looks pretty on him. You internally note to tell him that one day. You want to ask him if he means a date, but you already know he does, and you don’t want to say anything but,

“Yeah. Yeah I would really like that.” 

[quitealotofsodapop]

Hey Mac, we thought you were dead;

Sequel to this post on Macaque being back in the "Century Stone Egg Au".

After the pregnant Monkey King breaks his shock, he'd run to embrace Macaque, even if he'd just been super close to clawing his eye out (again) and that they're last meeting was a huge fight. He only holds back because he's honestly a little scared/worried how and why Macaque is there. Wukong is immediately trying to apolgise for his violent reaction, but Macaque just laughes out; "Nah, it's my fault. Should've asked first." It's only with the shadow monkeys' breathy, almost *fond* laughter that Wukong realises that Mac is truly there for peace. Mac's interaction with PIF further confirms this.

The reincarnation gang + the dragon couple are super sketched out though. Pigsy is the one to loudly ask "How do you know it's him and not some weird copycat?", mostly cus he's legit worried for Wukong in this moment. Somebody's dead partner don't just show up one day!

Wukong responds with his Gold Vision + its hard to fake the way Mac smells. The gang still refuse to leave the two alone together until they recieve a decent explaination.

The fact that Macaque literally looks like he crawled out of the grave quickly gives everybody a bad feeling, and they def force Mac to sit down and explain how tf he came back to life before he's even allowed smell Wukong.

Macaque: "I may have agreed to do something... kinda stupid in hindsight." Wukong, : "Mac... look at me. What did you do?" Macaque: "...ok don't be mad." Wukong: "I'm preemptively seething." Macaque: "I accepted a deal from the White Bone Spirit." Wukong: "I'M FURIOUS!!!" *starts throwing whatever's closest at Mac* Macaque, dodges a pillow: "Pfff! Calm down, it's not like I'm actually gonna do it! She brought me back to life to release her from a tomb or something and I chucked the key away the second I got back." The whole Room: "..." Wukong: "Mihou... thats the stupidiest thing you could have done!" *summons hair clones to throw stuff at Mac* Macaque, now failing to dodge fruit: "OW! Why are you upset!? We both know nothing good will come of letting that demon free!" PIF: "Mihou, if this Bone Demon was able to bring you back from the dead, then she has the power to track you down and recind her offer." Macaque: "...so you're saying that I have to fufill her deal, or I might get dragged back to Diyu?" Wukong and PIF, at the same time: "YES!!!" Macaque: "Shit." The Whole Room: *covering Red and Mei's ears* "LANGUAGE!!" Tang: "You should work on that before the baby gets here.

Oh you better believe Mac's in the doghouse until they can figure out how to resolve the LBD business deal. PIF calls up her lawyer to go over the exact terms and conditions.

Fire Star: "Ok, I've got good news and bad news." Macaque: "Bad news first." Fire Star: "The Lady Bone Demon's geas is airtight. You will have to open her tomb *slash* free her spirit in order to keep your place in this mortal realm - less you be recalled at a later date for a task of similar value or until she makes you redundant." Pigsy: "Translate for the non-lawyers please." Fire Star: "Either he does it, or she makes him do it, or she just takes his soul." Macaque: "Shit." Wukong & PIF: *glaring daggers at Mac* Macaque: "So what's the good news?" Fire Star, slyly: "Those are the only conditions to the geas. There's a reason you need lawyers for these kind of things nowadays. She didn't stipulate say... where to release her. Or whom would be present to greet her when her tomb opens." Everyone: *shares similar delighted/scheming looks* (*a few hours + a few calls to a worried Nezha later*) Macaque: *unlocks LBD's tomb* LBD: "Freedom! Freedom! Fr-" All of Wukong's allies in the Heavenly Army + Diyu officials:

LBD: "Oh bother."

As the Bone Demon gets carted away for conspiracy to destroy the world, she gets yelled at by all of the Underworld/Diyu officials that now have to deal with the fallout of her actions.

King Yama: "Do you understand how much paperwork I have to do to mark this monkey as alive!? He doesn't have a death date! It's been blotted out! I'll be correcting his files for months!!" Macaque: *high fives Fire Star for the solid lawyer-ing*

As far as Hell/Diyu is concerned, Macaque performed a service and was paid upfront. They don't want the headache of trying to take him back if his mate (someone who's trashed Hell before) wants to keep him.

Wukong is still super-mad at Mac for a variety of reasons, don't get hom wrong. But he's atleast glad in the moment to have his mate back. And glad that LBD is gone for the forseeable future.

[bidisasterevankinard]

normal again?

G / 1041 words

Buck and Eddie talk in the gym about what happened at the cruise call (based on the photos)

text under cut

Buck sits in his Jeep looking at the station and for the first time in all his life he doesn’t want to enter this building, doesn't want to see his team, but most importantly doesn't want to, and even scared, to see Eddie. 

The cruise emergency, which almost cost them Athena and Bobby and marked itself as another near death experience for both, him and Eddie, was three days ago and Buck is still not ready to see the man. 

Not after what happened when they were almost trapped together with Eddie in the water, while saving people, and not after what he did to help the man with his panic attack.

Buck takes deep breaths to calm his mind and slow down his racing heart, remembering how Eddie looked at him after Buck’s lips left his. And this struck and almost hurt expression could be something Buck could forget about and live like nothing happened, but Eddie hasn’t talked with him since the moment they said goodbye to each other at this exact parking space.

No answers on his messages, except little one: I’m home. Not alone. Is that ok if we reschedule the movie night for tomorrow?

Then silence. 

Buck hates silence. Silence always was something around him because of his parents, and he always tries to create the sounds and conversations to never have a silence with people he loves. To never again feel like when he was a child, begging to be loved.

Eddie was the only one with whom even silence can be comfortable, but not this one.

Not when his best friend avoids him.

Loudly sighting, Buck takes his bag and gets out of the car. He was the one who kissed Eddie, who made Eddie avoid him, which means he should be the one to make it better.

And the twenty minutes before their shift is a good opportunity to clean the air between them before they will run to save people.

Good thing Eddie is already here too. Buck saw the truck the moment he parked ten minutes ago.

Entering the station he expected to see the man in the loft, and get himself five more minutes to get his thoughts together, but the way Eddie is working out, beating the shit out of the punching bag, makes him change the plan.

Buck approaches the man loudly, not wanting to scare him, so he knows the moment he appears near the bag is not a surprise for Eddie. Not with the way Eddie glances at him, with a tense jaw.

“H-hi,” Buck barely hears it himself, but Eddie nods at him, so he guess he heard it. Buck coughs and continues with normal volume, but not loud enough to make anyone look at them, “I-I was thinking we can talk about the … you know, what happened at the cruise.”

Eddie hits the bag again before speaking.

“Nothing to talk about, Buck.”

“Eddie, I kissed you and you stopped talking to me. And I-I know I messed up, but please let’s talk about it. I promise I'm sorry about my actions, and I don’t want to lose you because of it,” Buck needs Eddie to listen to him, to forgive him. 

“Wait, you think I was angry with you for the kiss?”

“I mean, what else could it be about?”

Buck raises his eyebrow, when Eddie bites his lip and nods to the benches.

He chooses to sit opposite Eddie, not wanting to trap the man with his presence.

“Buck, I’m not angry at you. I wasn’t talking to you because of my actions during the panic attack,” Eddie looks at him, but Buck sees in his pose he still doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Eddie, it's fine. You did nothing wrong.”

“Buck, I had a panic attack during work. And you had to save both of us because I was out.” 

“First, I’m your partner, it means making sure you’re safe. Second, yes, you had an attack because we were trapped together and you were triggered by water. It's normal. I-I was triggered too. I panicked too. Remembering the-the tsunami and how I almost drowned in the lift,” Buck still feels this uneasy feeling from hyperventilating which felt exactly like the tsunami. “But I just concentrated more on you, so that's why I had an attack at home. Alone. I'm happy I could at least help you. Even if I'm sorry about my actions to help you,” Buck can’t look at Eddie saying the last sentence. 

He still feels so guilty for kissing Eddie. But somehow he can feel more guilty. For wanting more. For wanting to kiss Eddie again and again.

“You... regret it?” 

Eddie's cautious and slightly sad voice makes Buck raise his head and meet Eddie's incomprehensible gaze. Buck doesn't know what that means, but he doesn't want to make Eddie think he hates the idea of kissing him. 

“I do not regret kissing you. I regret it was like that. When you were panicking and I never asked,” Buck explains and is almost ready to say something more revealing about his feelings but then remember the main thing why he should feel guilty for his actions. “And because you and Marisol are dating. You want it to work and I made it awkward.”

“I don’t feel bad about you kissing me,” Eddie slightly smiles, but then shakes his head. “But yeah, it made the situation with Marisol a little awkward. Let's forget about it? Nothing happened?”

Buck doesn’t want to forget but he would never say no to such a perfect present of making things normal again between them. Still, he needs to make Eddie promise him something.  

“Only if you promise to never hide any attacks or possible triggers ever again.”

“Only if you promise to let me help you with your attacks too.” 

“Deal,” Buck smiles and Eddie smiles back. “The cruise never happened.”

“Yeah. Nothing happened.”

Buck is almost sure they both do not believe it with the way they said it. At least he hopes so. Because for him this kiss meant more he wants to admit. But it’s not time for it.

Main thing is that he and Eddie are normal again. Right?

[smutlord-supreme]

What would the COD MWII men do if they found out you had a stalker

[A little self indulgent peice since I had a scare last night. Getting stalked in like my specialty so let me know if you want a full length peice 🤪]

SFW short peice, COD men x GN! Reader, mostly platonic but can be read as romantic too.

Cw: Stalking

Price

-Price would be on top of it. Replacing locks, installing cameras anything to make you feel safe.

-He would make an effort to spend time with you more often, pick you up from work, drop you off ect. And when he couldn't he would try to get freinds to stay with you so you didn't have to be alone

-He would want you to call the cops and report it but he wouldn't be pushy if it makes you uncomfortable.

-If he actually met your stalker he'd let them know, in no uncertain terms, that if they continued they would never walk again.

Graves

-Graves would probably get violent the fastest of anyone on this list. He seems possessive so anyone threatening 'his girl/boy/partner' would be a no go.

-He would push you to report it to the cops and I don't think he'd take no as an answer.

-He'd also want you to call off of work while he did some 'investigation' of his own.

-He might even come home with a German Shepard puppy so that you can have a 'guard dog' which would end up being spoiled

Ghost

-I thinking Ghost would be the most analytical of the group. Which may make you think he's just brushing it off at first, when he's really just thinking up solutions.

-You already have a guard dog so he sets out and buys motion activated flood lights and trail cameras.

-He'd make sure you didn't have to do anything, he'd call your boss, change your number, call the cops if you wanted. All so you don't have to worry.

-The day after telling him you'd wake up to a pantry stocked with your favorite treats (which Gaz delivered so that Ghost wouldn't have to leave you).

Soap

-Soap would freak out at first, he'd ask you a million questions and probably make you panic before apologizing.

-He'd run you and bath and call either Ghost or Price to ask for advice.

-After you're done the both of you would go to the hardware store and booby trap the house, Home Alone style. Which would make you laugh.

-He would also set real safety measures in place, Window locks, Cameras, Alert system you name it.

-He would spend every moment distracting you while the problem got fixed.

Gaz

-Normally silly Gaz would become very silent when you told him. Quietly anger radiating off of him.

-I headcannon Gaz as having had bad anger issues as a kid which he got under control as he got older.

-Gaz would get up and put you in the shower while he made phone calls. Putting on your comfort show when you got out and sitting on the couch with you, rubbing your shoulder absent-mindedly.

-There would be a knock at the door and it would be one of his old police buddies. Gaz would apologize because he knew it would be hard to tell what happened, but it was important to get this guy caught.

-He'd stay home with you when he could and using his connections he would do whatever he could to get you an escort when he wasn't.

-When whoever was stalking you got caught he would roast the shit out of what they looked like (petty I know) making you laugh.

Alejandro

-Alejandro would be very vocal almost immediately, comforting and coddling you before setting off to fix the problem.

-He would round up Rudy and go find the person himself. Verbally (and maybe just a little physically) threatening them.

-He'd get back to comforting you as fast as possible though. Assuring you that you're safe and no one could harm you.

-He'd be more protective, almost overbearing for a week or two. He doesn't want this to ever happen again

-Depending on how bad it was he might adopt a little yappy dog (chihuahua, rat terrier, Yorkie, you know the type) to act as a first warning system and companion.

Rudy

-Rudy would start comforting you immediately, before making calls to freinds.

-Both Rudy and Alejandro don't trust the local police and army so it narrows down the number of people that can help. He'd probably go straight to Los Vaqueros.

-He would make you some comforting food while he waits for Intel. Sitting on the couch to eat instead of the dining table like normal.

-When the call finally came that your stalker had been captured he would go down to the base to confront them himself. Causing a nasty black eye before Alejandro pulled him off.

-Afterwards he'd teach you how to shoot. He wants you to be innocent and pure, but not at the cost of your life

[jojo-reader-hell]

So I was rewatching DIU (sadly not DUI) and was starting to think about Mikitaka and his sensitivity to certain sounds- via his allergy to sirens. But, I feel like it'd be super cute if Mikitaka had an s/o who had a habit of humming or just had an overall soft voice, and he's just in love with it and could just listen to them hum/talk all day.

In the first week of August 2023 we discovered aliens were real thus it is time once again for Mikitaka brain rot even though hi hello aliens scare the shit out of me and I cannot stand seeing grey aliens without reliving very specific childhood CPTSD phobias.

None the less, my body reacts strongly to Mikitaka because he is handsome boi, so let us go into headcanons.

I love the idea of his whole body just going so scrunkly when he hears you humming. Almost like a ripple effect where he just turns this really interesting shade of blue and is 🥴🥴🥴🥴 the whole time you’re just idling and trying to hum.

Like even his facial features start getting weird and his pupils dilate.

He even starts to make “ekekekekekek” sounds like a cat.

“Babe… what the fuck are you doing?”

“This sound… I am VERY attracted to it.”

Of course because it’s coming out of the mouth of your insanely attractive man, this gives you an ego boost.

This becomes a frequent thing where you will hum to him and watch him have what looks to be a complete melting session.

Insists that you hum for him whenever he’s stressed out, particularly when a siren goes screaming by the house because he insists it makes him feel better.

Obviously he is so disturbed by sirens and gets physically sick, you can’t help but oblige him.

Ironically, he likes nursery songs. You hummed Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to him and he was absolutely delighted.

He told you, “Stars in your galaxy do not really twinkle, as you call it. They appear to do so in the night sky because the light is affected by temperature and wind in your atmosphere. But your song is simply precious. Please make your humming again.”

Mikitaka often hears songs on your radio and will request you to repeat them. He often does not catch the title of the song, so he will have to resort to really specific descriptions to make sure you know which one it is.

“As far as I was able to glean from the context of the lyrics, the woman in the song is very upset that her partner has not disclosed information to her regarding his location. She proceeds to vandalize their home, their communal eating utensils, and various articles of his clothing are damaged with the sodium hypochlorite substance that you call bleach.”

“Um… ok? Do you remember anything else?”

“Oh yes! The woman indicated multiple times that she was “going to fight a man”.”

“… I’ve never heard anyone reference a Rihanna song like a work incident report but I guess there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?”

If you two have kids (or if you’re strictly child free and have pets only) he will insist you hum to them as well.

He even has his own assigned songs that he associates with each child or pet.

[nakimesbiwa]

Mitsuri and Obanai yandere headcanons

PLS THEY ARE SO HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YESS IKR

FIRST UP

Mitsuri Yandere headcanons

Doesn't like to see people get closer to you! BAM they're dead the next day!

If she has the courage to be friends with you; She will cling to you a lot watching people everywhere.

Watched you from afar. You don't know that Mitsuri is planning your future with her

Well the plan goes faster when she finds out you love her! She will feel really happy. Blushing a lot!

When she kidnapped you she was weirdly very nice to you! Food, hugs, and kisses!

She will not isolate you in her room. You can play games and make food.

KINDA forces things onto you. Like cuddling with her on your first day being here.

With all you can do here's what you can't; Go outside, call anyone, and DON'T go in the basement. Very easy rules! Right?...

If you escape; She will let your first one slide. But the second one she will guilt-trip you to make you feel bad for her and not to escape again. Like "Y/n! I'm trying my best and you escape me Why?" Or "I thought you loved me?"

But If you don't escape and be loyal to her she will trust you more letting you go outside with her or yourself!

She loves you too much to harm/hurt you!

Finally, names such as; love dear/dearly, sweetheart, and baby.

NOW

Obanai yandere headcanons

Spys on you like a pro like really...He's just too good at it.

I bet he knows it wrong but cares about you and your safety

OKAY. Imagine this; You and Obanai have set to be partners for a project Obanai is really excited to spend time with you. After finishing your project you get hit with a hammer or whatever. SO AY.

Obanai really likes you and that says a lot you know woman. No one is stopping him from kidnapping you NO ONE.

You will have no relationship with other people. Obanai has already claimed you as his.

When you are kidnapped he will erm...Kinda? But not rarely in fact he doesn't want to hurt you at all reminds him of his past (if I'm saying it right) I change my mind he isn't going to harm you.

If you escape well you almost can't but I'm not sure...The snake (not down there) scares the shit out of you all the time

But if you stay loyal he will get all clingy to not wanting to lose you and be lovely to you giving you your fav foods, clothes, etc!

Believes in trust. You can go on night walks with him or just sit outside his house he loves it and he listens to you when you talk.

Names; Dear, def love. or just any silly name that he comes to. But he calls you a snake when you have silly arguments.

side-eyes anyone who looks at you, bad, good, lovely. Talks random shit to you in your ear.

I have many ideas for Obanai...I MEAN I WAS GOING SOME WHERE..

PLUS I KEEP FORGETING I HAVE MY COMMENT OFF I CAN'T FIX IT BEACAUSE I MAKE ALL OF MY FICS ON MY LAPTOP HELPPPPPPPP,

[amoeganism]

TALKING TO MY GHOST AT NIGHT reo

theres a ghost in the blue lock facility, reo and bachira are sure of it. they also aren't the most reliable sources out there but it was funny, nagi can humor them for a little longer if it means reo will finally get a partner and set him free ( wc : 2.1k+ )

warnings : crack, angst if u blink slowly, reader is a slut for money and so am i, reo is into some weird shit but it's ok they're into each other i promise

“Yo! Yo! Sei-shi-ro!” Bachira called out, once again with glittering stars in his eyes as Reo’s face pales every passing second. “You will never guess what Reo and I found!”

“Nagi, there’s a ghost,” Bachira’s accomplice muttered. “We saw them when we went to eat dinner.”

“You guys are delusional,” the white-haired boy sweatdropped, were they getting enough sleep? Probably not. Ego was absolutely insane and for the first few days Nagi was in the Blue Lock facility, he swore he was losing his five senses ( he was better when he got his phone back but that’s not important ^ _ – ). “Are you guys sure it wasn’t a janitor or cook?”

“We swear!” The dumbass duo retaliated, each one taking hold of one of Nagi’s arms. “They looked like they were our age and they even had the same really ugly dark circles and eyebags as you! There’s no other explanation.”

Nagi was too tired for this shit he just wanted to lie in bed and play mobile games like an elementary school kid. “Well, leave me out of this you guys can get haunted for all I care.”

“What the fuck, Nagi?! Even after all we’ve been through? I’m like the second coming of Jesus to you! I introduced you to the art of playing with balls!” Maybe he could have worded that better but Reo was too deep in the blistering sorrow of betrayal to care about his relationship with the Japanese language.

“Yeah! Listen to Reo! You’re one of us and plus, you and the ghost look equally exhausted so that means you should be the one to talk to them!” Bachira innocently giggled as if he didn’t just set Nagi up for a demonic ritual or whatever the fuck they were planning.

“Can we at least wait until tomorrow?” Nagi whined, his eyelids felt heavy and there was too much stupidity in the room for his brain to handle in a day. His brain was swelling and any more that came out of Bachira or Reo’s mouth would cause it to explode and somehow, his batshit insane rivals teammates will find a way to bring him back to life ( maybe even with the ghost ) and beat the shit out of him for abandoning them ( Reo ).

—

It was getting late and most of the Egoists had gone to their rooms to do whatever was on their schedule next. The reasonable ones went to rest, the weird ones went to train, and then there was the demon named Rin Itoshi who went to follow his yoga routine. Ew, that name sent shivers down Nagi’s spine. He wants to see that guy trip and fall on his ass sometime, that’d be pretty funny, he thinks. It would be even better if his brother did the same. But for Nagi, instead of playing his first-person shooters like how he would like to, the boy was being shushed by Meguru Bachira who was accompanied by an oddly serious looking Reo Mikage.

“Ghost… ghost…” Reo began making different “oOOOoO” noises to mimic ghost sounds from a badly produced Halloween movie. “We come in peace. We don’t plan to hurt you.”

“Yeah! We’re totally cool, you should hang out with us! Look! We even have some random dude who’s like the same breed of human as you! Er… as you were.”

“Bachira I didn’t agree on being a human sacrifice,” Nagi tried saying, but was quickly cut off.

“Shhh! You’re gonna scare it away! No one cares~!”

“Are you mentally well?”

Bachira and Reo let out loud ear-shattering screams, each going straight into Nagi’s head and giving him the most painful migraine he’s ever experienced, so painful that he almost did not realize it was an unfamiliar voice talking to Bachira instead of one of their own. Looking up at whoever it was, it happened to be another teenager who looked relatively normal with no seemingly ghostly features at all.

“Aren’t you guys soccer players? What the fuck are you doing out here ghost hunting?”

“Wait so you aren’t a ghost?” Bachira tilted his head and asked, his eyes blank in confusion while Reo looked like he was short-circuiting.

“No…?” You replied, pinching your skin. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure I’m alive and well. You guys are hallucinating or something if you think I’m a ghost.”

“T-then why are you here?!” Reo pointed at you and demanded, suddenly thinking you were some intruder or hitman that was hired by one of his family’s rival companies, out to kill him while he happens to be away from home.

“‘Cause I’m that freak Jinpachi’s cousin. I need volunteer hours to graduate so I came here and honestly, I regret it. Nepotism sucks—well, at least this kind. I should’ve been born as some major actor’s kid.”

“Woah! So you aren’t here to kill me, that’s great!” Reo beamed, suddenly very giddy that a cute intern the same age as him would not be an absolute danger to his well-being. It had been years since he felt this electricity in his chest, the last time being when he met Nagi, who had been stuck with him ever since that day on. The purple-haired boy was unsure of whether the pleasure he felt from meeting you was due to a new challenge, or the fact he was genuinely interested in you. After all, he thought you were a ghost the first time he saw you.

“What—huh?! Why would I kill you? What kind of unresolved trauma do you have? Was this Jinpachi’s fault? That man is fucked in the head but he has money so don’t tell anyone about it until he dies and I get all his inheritance, ‘kay?”

Nagi did not know if you morbid words went one of Reo’s ears and out the other or if Reo was weirdly into whatever fantasies you had. Rich people. Bachira, though, was giggling like a devious troll, making squelching kissy noises in Reo’s ear as you went on and on about your plan to save yourself from the world of middle-class living and kick your cousin out of the economic elites so that you could replace him, knowing damn well that Ego could hear you.

And, he did.

A large television screen mounted to the front wall of the Blue Lock Facility cafeteria turned on almost immediately after you stopped talking, displaying a far from happy Jinpachi Ego in all of his bowl-cut glory. The man’s permanent frown was even more of a frown than what Nagi thought was humanly possible, another ew in his book. Man, his coach was depressingly ugly.

Jinpachi Ego was a tired man whose tiredness plummeted into exhaustion every time he had to interact with his hellspawn of a cousin, you. “[name], cut it out and get to cleaning. You aren’t going to get any credits or paychecks if you continue standing there wasting all our time telling people your empty plans of ‘plotting my downfall’,” Ego spoke with his monotone voice, making faux quotes with his hands.

“Oh, shut up old man. You’re literally decaying compared to me. Get to bed, grandpa,” You restored, visibly pissed off but immediately switching your facial expression to a cheery one like a lightswitch as you bid goodbye to the three teenage boys before you and running off to “beat that bowl-cut’s ass”, as you put it.

“Dude, you look like you just met an angel and fell in love!” Bachira laughed in Reo’s face, doubling over and rolling on the floor.

“I think… that’s because I just did,” Reo mumbled, awe still on his face as he blankly stared at the television screen Ego was just on.

—

Once again, Nagi just wanted to go to bed but had his plans interrupted by a very desperate Reo Mikage.

“Come on! Nagi, you just don’t get it. They’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it!”

“Why can't you go alone? Why do you have to drag me into you trying to ask them out? Aren't I just gonna be in the way?”

“Nagi,” Reo whined, pathetically dragging out his name. “I need you there for moral support. I'll piss myself otherwise, you know that.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be sure to laugh at you too when they reject you.”

“I'm gonna punch you.”

“Whatever, just this once, you hear me?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Reo saluted his closest friend, skipping to the cafeteria to find you. To be honest, he was unsure of whether or not you’d be there but considering the fact you’ve been cleaning the cafeteria at the same times for two days in a row, Reo thought he had a pretty good chance. But of course, luck wouldn't always be on the side of the rich and famous.

Nagi and Reo walked into the large, open room only to find the lights completely out, without a single sound echoing throughout the cold. An eerie feeling took over the previous excitement that Reo felt that evening, accompanying it with a chill down both of their spines.

“They aren't here, let's go back,” Nagi urged. He would never admit it to anyone's face, but the cafeteria was starting to give him the creeps. “Bring Bachira with you next time, he’d be over the moon to help you.”

“No! Wait! This place is creepy as fuck but we haven't even looked yet! Let me just turn on the lights—”

“See? You should be more like your friend here. Why are you in such a hurry to leave? I don't bite!” A voice popped out from right behind Nagi, causing him to physically jump into the air and trip over and onto his knees before violently whipping around, coming face to face with you manically cackling at his reaction. “Man, you're easy to scare!”

“Hi! You're er— [name], right? That's what Ego called you last night,” Reo greeted, “I'm Reo Mikage.”

“Yeah,” Nagi chimed in from on the floor. “He's Reo Mikage.” Reo really wished he followed through with punching Nagi in the face. “He's the heir of the Mikage Corp.”

“Mikage… Mikage… Mikage…” You muttered, trying to remember why that name sounded so oddly familiar to you. Is it the name of a restaurant you went to? No, he said ‘Corp’, that wouldn't make any sense.

“That means he's super rich by the way,” Nagi added one last time before ditching his awestruck friend in the otherwise empty cafeteria that he doubted anyone would go to anytime soon; it was almost nine in the evening.

“Oh my God, you're rich?” You gushed, suddenly very interested in what Reo had to say for himself—well, even more interested. It was like a dream for you; some really pretty dude coming in looking for you specifically, ignoring the part where he thought you were a ghost, of course. But having this same pretty boy turn out to be a super mega rich heir and also be super mega athletic? Jackpot. You won in life. It's God’s apology for making you be related to that bastard Jinpachi Ego. This is your main character moment and you will make sure that boy will be yours before any other trashy gold digger other than you picks him up and takes him away. “That's like, the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“That's not the only thing you're after, right?” Reo cautiously asked. It slightly hurt knowing that you might not actually be interested in him, but only after his wallet instead. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened, but it would be the first time it's happened with someone he was genuinely interested in.

“No, no! Of course not! You're pretty funny and well uh, really cute so even if you were broke I’d shoot my shot.”

If you spoke any more, Reo thought that his cheeks would fucking burst from how hot they felt and he was more than sure his face was a burning crimson red. It was suddenly as hot as a midsummer's day with the sun shining right above his brushed, violet hair, causing his entire body to sweat. “Holy shit I could marry you right now.”

“Hell yeah, let's get married, Reo!” You exclaimed with the same ecstatic eagerness as the boy whose hands you were grabbing onto while jumping up and down.

“[name], get to cleaning. You are not getting married anytime soon.” Before you could start making up your vows on the spot, a shart voice cut through the moment with the click of a button as the television in the cafeteria turned on once again, displaying a displeased, disturbed, and beyond annoyed Jinpachi Ego who was most definitely not pissed off because he can't get himself a partner like how his cousin can.

[halfmoonshines]

I'll Always Know You

summary; a series of events following bucky barnes and the reader

hurt/comfort, fluff

You had decided about fifteen minutes ago that this was probably your dumbest idea to date; now you were just miserable. The thunder boomed loudly overhead, the sky bucketing rain down on you like a small monsoon. You'd long abandoned the newspaper you'd fruitlessly held overhead to stay dry.

Why didn't you accept the ride from your work partner? You knew the storm was rolling in but you were so hellbent on being self sufficient.

You didn't hear the car roll to a stop on the empty street next to you, the rain putting a quiet blanket on everything but itself. But the voice that broke through definitely scared the shit out of you.

"Miss?"

You jumped, turning to the dark haired man standing opposite you. You probably would've thought his broad shoulders and defined muscles you could see beneath his quickly soaking wet shirt were attractive if you weren't immediately afraid of being murdered.

"Yes?" You replied with a subconscious step back.

His smile was tentative, hands half raising in a surrender. "I was driving by and noticed you fighting for your life against the wind. Could I offer you a ride?"

Every cell in your 21st century body said that you should turn around and start running. Never accept rides from strangers, even handsome ones. But it was truly storming now and you were still a twenty minute walk through the city home.

Sensing your hesitance, he tacked on. "You could either risk me being a murderer or almost definitely die to mother nature or pneumonia."

"Fair point." You followed him to his car.

--

Turns out, that would just be the first time you saw Bucky Barnes.

He showed up at your door three days after the rain incident, and you were almost freaked out if you hadn't been kicking yourself for not giving him your number.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I was wondering if you'd be interested in grabbing some coffee?" The arm positioned awkwardly scratching his head and the nervous smile on his face was enough to make your suspicions melt fully. Ted Bundy be damned.

"Let me grab my coat."

--

Turns out Bucky likes warm mochas, and also holding hands. You learned a lot about him over the next few weeks; his likes and dislikes. You fit together like the last pieces of a puzzle, you barely noticed the months passing and when you started leaving clothes at his apartment.

"You're kidding me, you've never seen Pitch Perfect? It's like quintessential 2010's cinema."

Bucky's laugh never failed to warm you inside. "I was a bit busy during that decade."

Your eyebrows scrunched, those little comments only confusing you. "The whole decade? What are you, 80?"

"Not quite."

---

"Would you still love me if I was a cat?"

"Yes." His reply was instant, warm arms wrapped around you while he leaned down for a kiss.

You dodged his lips, a playful smile on your own. "How would you know it's me?"

His hand found your cheek, pulling you in for a demanding kiss. The feeling of his mouth on yours always electrified you.

"I'll always know you."

---

The first time you felt he ever truly lied to you was a year in, which is a considerable span, as you tried to rationalize.

But there was no rationalizing the photo in your hand. A black and white snapped picture of your long term boyfriend, James Barnes, in a WW11 military uniform. Same boyish smile, same stance. The only difference was the haunted look that seemed to plague your Bucky.

There had to be an explanation, right? I mean vampires weren't real. This wasn't Twilight. A distant relative maybe?

A voice in the back of your head was insistent that this was him.

"Bucky?" You called him to the room before you could lose your nerve.

His smile was easy when he entered the room, but you couldn't help but notice the tenseness that filled him when he noticed the box you'd be rifling through.

"What's up, Doll?"

You lifted the picture along with an eyebrow, nervousness trickling into your stomach. "Who's this?"

He paused for only a second before it was like a switch flipped in him, and his smile eased back. "That's my grandpa. I don't really display his pictures for the sake of my sanity. We could be twins." He snatched the picture from you, depositing it back in the box.

"I'll say. You look the exact same." Your head was cocked to the side, a question still sitting on your lips.

"Strong genes."

---

He should've told her. No, he should've never gone back to her apartment. Never pulled his car over in that fucking downpour. All he ever brought with him was death and tragedy, and Bucky was terrified that she was about to make that list.

"We're five out." Sam's voice was carefully guarded, knowing his partner was on edge.

It was just a normal day a few hours ago when Bucky had come home to the door of their apartment hanging off it's hinges.

His panic was instant and only mounted when he searched the home and found nothing but signs of struggle and you missing. It was always a fear gnawing at the back of his mind. He had plenty of enemies, people he'd ruined the lives of. It was negligent to keep you in the dark, to even keep contact with you. But James Barnes was a selfish man.

When the jet landed and his boots hit the wet concrete, he wasn't Bucky. He was the soldier. And he would bring you home.

---

The sight of you, broken on the examination table was almost enough to take his knees out from under him. He put a steadying hand on the door frame to your room while Bruce gave him a diagnosis he had feared.

"It seems like they experimented on her. Traces of nodes connected to her neck and head. Until she wakes up I won't be able to tell the extent of damage, if there even is any. Worse case... she doesn't remember you."

Fuck. Bucky's breathing was shallow. If he could go back and rip every single man in that facility apart slowly, he would. Even then it wouldn't be enough to punish them.

Maybe you not remembering him was a blessing. Maybe you'd be safer.

--

The lights over you were like the blazing sun, and the only thing you could assume was that you had an insane hangover. Your brows pulled together, eyes squinting to recognize your surroundings. Vaguely clocking the IV attached to your arm, your vision started to clear and so did your thoughts.

Being at home, the bang of the door coming open, men swarming you.

And then nothing.

Your heart rate quickened, panicking now to inspect what was around you. You'd been taken, like some cliche movie. But by who? Why?

Just as your panic was mounting to a full blown freak out, your eyes found a familiar figure to your left. Head hanging off the back of the chair he was passed out in, your boyfriend was a more than welcome sight.

"James." Your voice was hoarse, scratchy, but he awoke instantly.

He was wordless, flying out of his chair and onto his knees beside you. Your handsome man was haggard, dark bags under his eyes and mussed hair. His warm hands roving your face distracted you from his gaunt appearance.

"Do you know who I am?"

His question confused you, as did the worry in his eyes. You brought your hand up to the one sitting on your cheek and gave him your best, exhausted smile. "I'll always know you."

--

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