#he doesn’t say anything just follows him home and listens to him mutter about trying to get the Joker to understand something

[deonsx]

Second Request U can egnore! Rin's gi¹rlfriend loves to dress him and brags about the beauty of her boyfriend, she usually go shop for him (with his money ofc) and forget to buy herself anything the point that his clothes is more than her's! Nprp cuz rinnie will buy for her instead and make her wear his clothes🙂‍↔️💞

hiiii I hope it turns out the way you want, thank you for adding imagination to me.

Rin’s girlfriend loves dressing him up. It’s her favorite pastime, though Rin himself finds it mildly embarrassing. One Saturday, she drags him to a clothing store under the guise of “just browsing.” Of course, Rin knows what’s coming but goes along with it, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his usual stoic expression in place

After a couple of hours of her making him try on countless outfits, she holds up a sleek jacket and says “This would look amazing on you! Try it!”

Rin sighs but doesn’t resist, slipping it on while she beams. As he steps out of the fitting room, she gasps dramatically and says “See? You’re ridiculously good-looking! It’s almost unfair”

Rin, slightly flustered, mutters “You’re overreacting” But the faint blush on his cheeks gives him away. Later, Rin notices that while she’s piled his arms with clothes to buy, she hasn’t picked out a single thing for herself. When he points this out, she waves it off casually saying “I’m fine! I just love shopping for you”

The next day, Rin quietly goes shopping by himself and buys a few things for her, including a dress he’s sure she’ll like. When he gets home, he hands her the bag without much ceremony and says “You’re not allowed to forget yourself. Wear this tomorrow”

She’s surprised but grins brightly, teasing “Aw, you’re so thoughtful, Rinnie! But why do I feel like you just want me to stop wearing your hoodies all the time?”

Rin shrugs, barely reacting, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he replies “Maybe. Or maybe I think you’d look better in my clothes anyway” The following morning, she steps out in the dress Rin picked, only for him to grab one of his oversized hoodies and toss it over her head “Looks better now” he says simply, but his smirk betrays his satisfaction

Sweet Dynamic:

She loves bragging about how gorgeous Rin is to anyone who’ll listen, much to his annoyance “Did you see my boyfriend? Isn’t he ridiculously handsome?!”Rin, meanwhile, tries to pretend he doesn’t hear, though his ears turn red every time while she’s busy spoiling him

Rin quietly takes care of her in his own way—whether it’s making sure her favorite snacks are stocked or slipping a hoodie over her shoulders when she’s cold

Her wardrobe gradually fills up with Rin’s hoodies, jackets, and even a few T-shirts she steals from him. Rin doesn’t really mind—he thinks she looks better in his clothes anyway

When she gets carried away shopping for Rin, he eventually just picks out something for her, hands it to the cashier, and says “She’ll take this too”

When she teases him about how his wardrobe is ten times bigger than hers now, Rin deadpans “Your fault. You picked everything”

Enjoy!

[daryltwdixon]

Merry Christmas, Daryl

Daryl x Reader Fluff

summary: On a quiet Christmas Eve in Alexandria, an unexpected moment under mistletoe brings you and Daryl closer in a way neither of you expected. slightly nerdy awkward reader

author's note: just something cute to wish you all a happy holiday 🎄✨🎁❄️☃️🎅🦌🌟

The faint hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, the low flicker of candles and strings of scavenged Christmas lights casting a warm glow across the house. Alexandria feels… different tonight. Almost like the world hasn’t ended. Like they’re all just neighbors, throwing a party to pass the time. You suppose it's what it's been like for them this whole time, but for you and your group...it was a nice reminder of what once was.

Maggie is laughing at something Glenn said, her eyes crinkling in a way you haven’t seen in months. Carl and Judith sit by the fire with Michonne, her arm draped protectively around the boy’s shoulders as she listens to his quiet chatter. Rick’s laugh carries over the rest of the noise, and for a moment, everything feels—normal.

Instead of joining in, you linger on the outskirts, nursing your drink. It’s not that you don’t feel welcome—you do, mostly. It’s just easier to watch, to soak in the warmth and pretend the ache of missing something you can’t quite name isn’t sitting heavy in your chest.

Your eyes wander, always searching no matter what room you're in—for him.

Daryl.

He stands near the door, half in shadow, nursing a beer with one hand while the other rests on his hip. He’s not watching anyone in particular, but his eyes scan the room like always, as if he’s looking for trouble—or maybe just a reason to leave. There’s something about the way he stands, so separate from everyone else, that pulls you in.

You’ve always told yourself it’s nothing, this feeling that tugs at you whenever he’s around. But it can't be nothing. Not with the way your heart picks up when he looks at you, the way you catch yourself stealing glances at him when you think he won’t notice. It’s the way he speaks—not much, but when he does, it’s rough and honest and somehow makes you feel safer than all the walls around Alexandria combined.

You take another sip, your fingers tightening slightly on the glass. You like him. You’ve liked him for months, but it’s not the kind of thing you can just admit—to yourself or to him. You’re not even sure he sees you that way. You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t, because it’s easier than hoping for something you might not get.

Still, your feet move before you can stop them.

“You look like you’re having fun,” you tease as you approach, your voice light despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

He glances at you, his lips twitching in something that could almost be a smile. “Ain’t exactly my scene.”

You shrug, falling beside him to lean against the wall, “Not mine either, really. But it’s nice, right? Seeing everyone like this?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze shifting back to the room. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah. S’good for ‘em.”

The way he says it—quiet, almost like it’s a secret—makes your chest ache. You wonder if he ever lets himself have anything good, or if he always watches from the sidelines, thinking it’s enough just to see other people happy.

You study him for a long moment, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his thumb taps idly against the glass bottle. But with a shift of his shoulders, he's pushing off the wall.

“You heading out already?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“Think so,” he mutters. His voice is low, rough, but it doesn’t feel dismissive. If anything, it feels like an invitation—to follow, to keep talking, to… something.

Instead, you offer a soft smile. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

He dips his head in a nod, stepping away from the doorframe and into the chilly night.

The walk home is quiet, the air crisp and biting against your skin. You tuck your hands into your pockets, letting your breath mist in front of you as you replay the evening in your head.

You’re not sure why you feel so unsettled. It’s not like you expected him to stay. Daryl doesn’t do parties or crowds or small talk. That’s part of who he is, and it’s part of why you like him. Still, you can’t shake the feeling that you should have said more.

You spot him just beyond the houses, leaning against one of the bare trees that line the edge of the path. He’s looking up, his face tilted toward the branches, and for a moment, you just watch him, the way he always seems to watch everyone else.

“What are you doing out here?” you ask, your voice breaking the stillness.

He turns slightly, his gaze landing on you. “Could ask you the same.”

You step closer, following his gaze to the small sprig of green dangling from one of the lower branches. It takes a second to register, but when it does, your heart skips. Mistletoe.

A laugh escapes you, nervous and too loud in the quiet night. “Huh. Did you know mistletoe’s a parasite?”

His brow furrows, and you press on, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “I mean, technically a semi-parasite. It attaches to trees and, you know… kind of takes what it needs. Pretty romantic, right?”

He’s watching you now, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “You always talk this much?”

“Only when I’m nervous,” you blurt, and the words hang in the cold air, making your cheeks burn.

Daryl tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing in that way he does when he’s trying to figure something out. You can feel your pulse quicken under his gaze, the weight of his attention making your tongue trip over itself. “It’s just… mistletoe. And, uh… you.”

As soon as the words are out, you wish you could take them back, your eyes darting anywhere but at him. The mistletoe, the ground, the shadow his boots make on the frost-bitten earth—anything to avoid the unreadable look you’re sure is on his face.

The silence stretches, thick enough to strangle you. You almost start rambling again, desperate to fill the gap, when he clears his throat.

“Mistletoe, huh?” he mutters, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to smile.

You glance up, startled, and your breath catches. He’s still watching you, but there’s something softer in his expression now, something almost shy. He shifts his weight, his thumb hooking into his belt loop, and the small, nervous movement sends a rush of affection through you.

“Well, yeah,” you say, the words spilling out faster now, your voice breathy. “I mean, technically it’s a semi-parasite. It grows on trees, kind of… leeching off them, but in a subtle way. You know, symbiotic. It’s not entirely—”

You stop abruptly when you realize he’s taken a small step closer. Your heart pounds against your ribs, and you’re suddenly very aware of how quiet it is, just the faint rustle of the wind through the trees and the sound of your own breathing.

He’s not much taller than you, but he feels bigger somehow, his presence grounding you even as it sends your thoughts scattering. Your eyes flick to the mistletoe above, then back to his, and you swear he notices because his gaze drops—briefly—to your lips before snapping back up.

“Y/N…” he says softly, his voice rough and hesitant, like suddenly the name tastes different on his tongue suddenly.

Your breath catches again, and before you can second-guess yourself, you both move. It’s awkward at first, both of you leaning in too fast, your noses brushing in a way that makes you stifle a nervous laugh. But then his hand comes up, rough and warm against your jaw, steadying you, and suddenly the world narrows to just this—just him.

His lips meet yours, tentative and soft at first, but the moment stretches, deepens, like neither of you wants to pull away. You lean into him, your hands finding his jacket, clutching at the worn fabric like you need it to keep steady.

Daryl kisses you like he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing but doesn’t want to stop. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, and it makes your chest ache because it feels so him. Honest. Earnest.

When you finally part, you’re both breathing harder than you should be, the air between you clouding with misted breaths. His hand lingers against your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You feel your lips curve into a smile, the warmth blooming in your chest spilling out into your words. “Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

[snaileer]

Danny sighs. Wanting to get up and pace. But he was on the bus. And you can’t pace on the bus unless you’re a crazy person.

Which…. would not look good considering the current circumstances.

He could always just not get off. That was totally still an option. He could just keep going. Maybe ride to Old Gotham. Go get pasta or a deli sandwich.

The ‘Stop Requested’ sign dinged.

The bus looped back around to his dorm apartment anyways. He didn’t have to get off.

Ah frick this was his.

Danny’s hand pulls the bus cord against his permission. Oh ancients too late now, he has to get off or the other people will think he’s rude for pulling the cord and not leaving.

Okay. Okay. He can do this. He can do this

Danny resisted the urge to shake his hands and jump in place as he waited for the doors to open.

Pep talk. Pep talk.

Pep talk totally working. Uh huh.

The bus is leaving. Ok. Now it’s really too late.

Danny checks the google map directions again. A 23 minute walk was not bad.

If only the destination wasn’t Arkham Asylum and he wasn’t visiting the Joker with a grieving self-help book.

Really the most important stage here was acceptance.

He started walking.

It hadn’t even originally wanted to bring the book personally but apparently there was a ‘mail ban.’ The book came Jazz recommended anyways so it would have to be worth it.

Danny tried to ignore the ectoplasm thickening in the air like soup as he got closer. Oh this was totally a normal thing to do.

Just convince the megalomaniac murder clown that he’s dead and a ghost and needs to pass on and everything will come out hunky-dory!

Danny gave a fake laugh to himself as he buzzed the entrance button and was let in.

The secretary looked at him like he was crazy when he told her who he was here to see. Which… fair.

He tried to explain that, quite genuinely, he did not want to be here either. But ghosts were kind of his problem ever since the portal and even if this one wasn’t his fault… it didn’t feel right to just let him run wild when Danny knew the problem.

He winced and pretended not to notice as she pressed an alarm button before letting him through the metal detectors and towards the cell.

Yay for armed escorts.

Now here he was. Dodging a self-help paper airplane from the Joker. Danny sighed again.

Why couldn’t ghosts just stay in the Zone?

The Joker is Dead (and always has been)

Danny is attending Gotham U and gets caught up in a Joker escapade and realizes the clown is, in fact, a ghost.

Suddenly everything makes an insane amount of sense: the fact that no one has killed a psycho with seemingly human-normal abilities yet, that Arkham can’t keep him for more than a week, the obsessive behavior, the appearance.

Honestly, Danny should have clocked this before he even met the spook.

And Danny doesn’t want to step on any toes, really. The Bat and the Joker have A Thing going on. But, the Batman just isn’t equipped to really put a ghost away. No wonder there’s a breakout from Arkham every couple of months. How many other Gotham rogues are obsessive ghosts haunting the city?

Joker doesn’t display any of the usual ghost powers he associates with his own “rogues”—who’ve really become more like unwanted relatives over the years what with their dropping in uninvited, making a mess, and then ditching before they had to help clean.

It strikes Danny, as he’s being tied up by the clown-costumed goons, that maybe the Joker doesn’t know.

Huh.

How does he broach the topic in a sensitive way?

“Hey, uh. Not to be rude but… You know you’re dead, right?”

Danny winces. Not like that, probably.

The Clown Prince of Crime stops in front of him, the crazed light in his eyes dimmed slightly by confusion. He glances back and forth between Danny and the students around him who are shying away from their insane classmate. (Which is. Fair.)

A menacing giggle warbles from the specter’s throat. He leans into Danny’s bubble, that eerie grin stretching somehow wider.

“Ohhhh really?” The clown draws it out and Danny can hear the crackle of static in the high notes. Honestly. How did no one figure this out before? “And are you gonna kill me, hmm? Have I got a widdle hero in my bait tank?”

“No, no, I mean, it’s not… you’re not… like? You’re not alive,” Danny rambles, trying to clarify and failing utterly. “You’re already dead.”

The Joker tilts his head, eyes dilating and glowing toxic green. He considers what Danny said, then throws his head back and cackles like a hyena.

The ghost doubles over, even, laughing so hard it sounds like he’s gonna bust something. He puts a white-gloved hand on Danny’s shoulder for support and squeezes, just shy of hurting.

After an uncomfortably long moment, the ghost wipes imaginary tears out of his eyes and pats Danny on the back so hard he stumbles and falls to his knee.

“You’re a riot, kid! If I didn’t have a date already planned…”

He trails off and ambles away, still chuckling and muttering to himself. “And they say I’m crazy! Wait til Bats hears about this!”

Danny watches him go, despondent.

It’s always harder when they don’t know.

This is gonna be a mess.

[lemonlover1110]

Toji Fushiguro

Summary: Megumi hates nap time, a fuss that Toji isn't willing to deal with.

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“It’s nap time, Megumi.” Toji tells his four-year-old, a child who listens to no one– No one but you, of course. Whatever his mommy says, goes. But little Megumi doesn’t hold the same sentiment with his father.

“I’m not sleepy.” Megumi crosses his arms, becoming pouty at the mere suggestion of a nap. He’s too old for napping. He’s not little anymore, he’s four. Why doesn’t his dad understand?

“Oh, you’re sleeping.” Toji replies, unwilling to listen to argue with a four-year-old about nap time of all things. The child is just like him, if he doesn’t get enough sleep, he’s grumpy for the rest of the day. 

“Come here, shadow.” Megumi ignores him, calling for the dog that’s nearby.

“Leave the stupid hedgehog alone.” Toji responds, picking up the child from the ground and carrying him to the bedroom. Toji can only pray that one day Megumi will wake up and obey his father, but sadly, today is not that day.

“He’s a dog! He goes woof!” Megumi yells, kicking his feet in the air as his father carries him. When Toji finally puts him down, it’s on the bed which fills the child’s little heart with rage. He’s not sleepy, why is he being forced to sleep?

“Your mom is coming home soon, you don’t want her to find you misbehaving, do you?” Toji asks, and Megumi refuses to listen to whatever Toji has to say. Yeah, the old man brought you up and all that but Megumi simply isn’t sleepy. 

Megumi refuses to look at his father, and Toji begins to look for one of those stupid books that you read to get the child to sleep. Is that the key? Toji doubts it, but he’ll try anything to get Megumi to fall asleep. Watching after the child is an annoyance at times, Toji wants to be able to watch TV without worrying about Megumi putting a dog toy in his mouth. 

“Here. Let’s read– Goodnight Moon.” Toji reads the title, laying down beside Megumi. 

“It’s not even out yet.” Megumi argues, making Toji roll his eyes. What a sassy mouth. Toji opens the book, a yawn escaping his lips before he reads the first line.

“In the great green room–”

“This is boring!” Megumi cuts him off, which earns a hard cold glare from the man. A look that seems to solve all of Toji’s problems. Megumi becomes intimidated for a second, muttering, “Sorry.”

“There was a telephone,” Toji continues, another yawn escaping his lips. He feels a little head fall on his chest, noting that Megumi seems to have changed his mind. Is it interest in the book or the tiny detail that Megumi now feels scared? 

Toji’s free hand goes to the top of Megumi’s head, caressing the soft hair of the child. Regardless of how difficult the child is, Toji would die and kill for Megumi. There’s no one he loves more than the little rascal. 

“Oh, man.” Toji yawns again. How does this even work? He might fall asleep before Megumi at this pace– But then his eyes fall on the child, whose eyes are shutting on their own. At least it’s working, even if Toji is falling asleep as well.

“Keep…” Megumi murmurs, drifting off. He attempts to tell his father to keep reading, but he doesn’t have enough energy to finish. This is the same child who was set on fighting his father.

It doesn’t take long for Toji to follow Megumi’s suit, lightly snoring beside his son in a matter of seconds. 

[b3ach-bunn7]

PLEASEEEE WRITE MORE FOR TOUYA 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Ur wish is my command 🛵

LEATHER COATS AND PIZZA

Never a dull moment when you hang out with Dabi and the rest of your friends

No quirks au, pining, LOV as high schoolers

part 2

—————————————————————————

“Move up.”

You shuffle to the left as Dabi plops down next to you. You’re currently all shoved onto Shigarakis couch, half watching the movie on his Tv and half chattering about whatever. You’re squeezed between Dabi, whose eyes are looking at the TV but not really watching, and Toga, who’s flicking through a Teen Girl magazine, absentmindedly filling out the questionnaires on the back. Shigaraki is sprawled on a loveseat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he plays some game on his switch. Twice is leaning on the arm of the chair next to him and giving very unnecessary tips that Shigaraki does not need. Spinner is lying down on the floor. You think he’s exhausted after his football training, but he’s usually sleeping any time you guys hang out, so you’re not too concerned.

You don’t really look like you fit in with this friendship group. They’re weird enough as is. Spinner has this weird obsession with amphibians and bright clothes. Shigraki always has gloves on because of his bad eczema and he’s always scowling, and Toga’s cute aesthetic completely opposes her love of all things gore and violence that she’ll tell to anyone who’ll listen. And Dabi, whose face was more metal than skin from all the piercings he has. That, and the mystery that surrounds the burn scars that litter his skin.

All in all, it was a pretty rag tag group. You were glaringly normal compared to them. No weird habits or affinities, but none of you cared. You can’t even remember how you joined their group but you know you don’t regret it. Some of their activities weren’t exactly your forte. You do walk away whenever they decide that spending money on stuff is too much effort, or when they’d rather stay in an abandoned parking lot half the night then get in bed for school. But despite all of that, you always meet them halfway. Shigaraki’s parents are never really home and so you always find yourselves lounging around his house every other day. You watch movies, order pizzas, finish your homework. Whatever you feel up for.

Today, your eyes are trying their hardest not to flit to your right. Dabi is so close to you right now. His thigh is pressed into yours and it’s so warm. You’ve learnt that that is always the case. You remember one night after a party he’d walked you home. Even through the layers of your coat and dress, your arm gripping his had heated you up against the cold autumn air.

You adjust your position and he glances at you, but he doesn’t move. If anything he gets closer, bringing his arm up behind the couch to rest behind your head.

“Guys, would you say I like my men edgy but fun, or preppy but unique?” Toga hums, biting the end of her pencil.

“Don’t care.” Shigaraki mumbles.

“Rude. I think edgy but fun.” You say.

Twice frowns, shaking his head. “No, don’t you remember that Deku guy you liked? He was definitely preppy but unique.”

“No, he was more like. I don’t know. A nice guy.” Spinner ponders from the floor.

“He was a pussy.”

“Dabi, don’t be mean, he was nice!” Toga whines.

Dabi just rolls his eyes and you giggle. You lean forward to read the page she’s on. Apparently, Toga is about to find the ‘guys she’s totally in tune with’. You point to one of the teenage boys imprinted on the page, all fake smiles and box dye hair.

“He looks like he could be totally in tune with you.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

Dabi leans forward over you to get a better look. You can smell that woodsy and smokey smell that always follows him.

“He’s too emo.”

“You’re one to talk.” Toga mutters, and Dabi smacks the back of her head.

Toga sighs and abandons the page and keeps flicking through the magazine. You yawn. It’s only seven pm but you’re tired. You’d stayed up all last night with Dabi on the phone. It was sort of a tradition the two of you had. You’d watch a movie together, the two of you counting down to sync up your Netflix on whatever movie you were watching. Somehow, you’d stayed up talking all last night. It wasn’t unusual for that to happen but after a long day at school it’s all adding up. You lean your head against the back of the couch on Dabi’s arm.

“The movie not catching your fancy?” He asks.

You smile slightly. It’s something stupid and full of violence, the kind of stuff both of you hate. “No. It’s awful.”

“Of course it is, Shiggy picked it.” Dabi rolls his eyes.

You go to grab the remote and Dabi does too. Your fingers touch, only for a second, but the heat blooms in your hands. You both apologise, clumsily, but Dabi picks it up regardless and starts flipping through channels.

“Hey, they have a truth or dare page! Let’s play!”

It’s a testament to how bored you all are that that catches your attention. Toga slides down on the floor and spinner and twice join her. Shigraki looks unbothered but he still turns his switch off and sits up. You and Dabi stay on the couch. Funnily enough, despite the extra room, the two of you don’t move, legs still pressed up against each other.

“Truth or dare? A bit childish, no?” You whisper quietly enough that nobody but Dabi can hear you.

“What, you scared?”

“Shut up. I’m scared of nothing.” You flex your arms and Dabi smirks.

“It’s been ages since I’ve played. Isn’t there meant to be a forfeit if you don’t do the truth or dare?”

Dabi nods. “Yeah, usually.”

“What’s ours?”

“You have to kiss me.”

You turn your head away so he doesn’t seen the flush on your cheeks. Flirting is nothing you’re not used to with Dabi. Any woman he speaks to is unfortunately a victim of it. Despite his whole punk ‘don’t talk to me’ look, Dabi is undeniably attractive. There’s something so obvious about it. Like if you look at him for just a second more than you’d think to, it would all jump at you; his soft hair, the bright blue eyes, and that boyish grin. So you’re not really fussed by all his flirting. You’ve been there, done that. It’s Dabi at the end of the day. Nothing means anything with him.

“You wish.” You push him away as he pouts his lips at you.

Toga claps her hands. “Okay! Who’s going first?”

“Me!” Twice springs up from his seat, excited. “I pick dare.”

“Daring choice! Okay, so. Go onto instagram and like every highlight of the first person that you see.”

Twice was not happy about that, considering the girl that popped up on his page was apparently ‘someone he was interested in’. But his mood lights up quickly once Toga passes him the magazine so he can ask a question.

And you carry on like that, getting through the group. Shigaraki reluctantly plays a ‘Kiss, marry, kill’ with some of the less attractive teachers at UA, Spinner eats a spoonful of sriracha.

“Dabi. Your, fuck, it’s your turn.” Spinner fans his face while Toga giggles at him.

“Truth.”

Dabi waves off the boos from the rest of your group. Spinner hushes them and reads the first truth on the page. “If you had to marry one person in this room, who would it be?”

“Y/N.”

He doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. Your name slips off his tongue like he didn’t even mean it to. His face looks surprised for a split second before he glances around the room.

“Uh, okay. Your turn to ask a question.” Spinner hands him the magazine.

You’re still slightly dumbfounded. So is Toga, because she is narrowing her eyes at Dabi very suspiciously. He notices her out of the corner of his eye and raises a brow.

“What?”

She says your name questioningly. You look down at your lap because the loose thread on your jeans is suddenly very interesting.

“Do I need to explain myself or something?”

Toga sighs, propping her knees up and leaning her head on them. “No, you’re okay. It’s your turn.” She leans her head up and it thumps against your leg. You run your fingers through her bangs and she smiles.

“Truth or dare?”

“Hm. Dare.”

Dabi grins. “Daring choice.” Toga sticks her tongue out at the horrible impression of her voice. “Wait, which one do I pick?” His eyes flit over the page of options.

“Uh, we’ve just been going down the list. I think we’re on number four?” Twice says.

Dabi nods. He opens his mouth to speak, but then he stops. Clears his throat, and tries again.

“Kiss the most attractive person in the room.”

You groan as the others start cheering.

“Finally, this is getting interesting.” Shigaraki laughs.

“Don’t get too excited, she’s not kissing you, Shiggy.” Dabi scoffs.

“Fuck off.”

You huff. “Why do I get the creepy one?”

“Hey, I’d gladly kiss someone than eat what I had to.” Spinner grumbles, still nursing a bottle of water.

“Okay. Okay I’ll do it.”

They’re all looking at you expectantly. You know who it’s going to be. Of course it’s going to be Dabi. You’re sure they all know it too, because the others are just looking at the two of you on the couch, giving no other signs of being ready for a kiss. You swallow once. Turn to your side and he’s already looking at you so intensely. The corner of his mouth lifts up slightly.

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Aw, don’t act like you don’t love this, baby.”

You decide that instead of telling him to shut up you’ll do it instead. You grab the scratchy materia of his stupid band tee he always insists on wearing. It almost hurts when your mouths meet, and his hand immediately cups your cheek, warm palm almost covering your whole face. You’re sure the kiss isn’t meant to last this long, but you feel his teeth bite your bottom lip and you have to push away before you start moaning in front of your friends.

You break apart, breathless. Dabi’s lips are red and look freshly kissed and you guess you must look the same. You feel your face heat and you turn to look at the others who are all looking with different degrees of shock and smugness (the last one being Toga).

“Right.” You grab the magazine from his hands. “It’s Toga’s turn?”

The rest of the night goes by quite quickly. You all soon grow bored of truth or dare, which doesn’t get any more exciting after your kiss. Which you can’t seem to stop thinking about. You and Dabi immediately fall back into normalcy but something niggles in the back of your mind. It was just a kiss, but. Does Dabi kiss everyone like that? It must explain why he gets around so much. If a man kissed you like that you can only imagine how he can do everything else to you.

But you try to ignore that. Focus on the fact you’re braiding Toga’s hair or maybe listen to the story Twice is telling you about someone at his work. Someone orders a pizza and you bug Dabi until he passes you a slice. He gets the cheesiest one in the box, like he knows you love, and you grin your thanks.

The night ends swiftly after that. You all help Shigaraki clean because that’s the only condition he sets if you all use his house as a hangout spot. Toga catches a lift with Twice and Spinner leaves on his bike. Which just leaves you and Dabi. You stand on Shigaraki’s driveway, your foot kicking a rock on the floor.

“You walked here?” Dabi asks, shrugging his coat on.

“Yeah. Regretting it now.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“Thanks.”

He just makes a noise, gesturing for you to start walking. The night air is cool. You wish you’d worn something warmer. You can’t complain though. You love autumn. The leaves crunch beneath your feet, streetlights illuminating the path. The sun is just about set, and the sky is orange, pink, purple.

It's moments like these that you’ll know you’ll remember forever. It’s weird. You remember random things like an old lady you saw on the bus home one day, the slice of red velvet cake you’d bought at some random cafe. Little, irrelevant things that you can’t help but store. But moments like these, where the setting sun catches on Dabi’s skin, and your hands brush close to each other that they almost touch, you don’t think you could ever forget.

“You going to Hawks’s party next week?” He asks suddenly.

“Uh. I guess so.” You say.

Dabi quirks a brow. “Don’t sound too excited.”

“It’s not that, it’s just.” A breeze blows over and you rub your arms. Curse short-sleeved shirts. “His parties get too crazy for me. But I haven’t seen him in ages so I’ll probably go. I miss him.”

“Mhm.” He says, suddenly standoffish.

“Are you going?”

“I guess. I just miss Hawks ever so much.” He raises his voice so it’s all high pitched. You glare at him.

“I do not sound like that, you weirdo. And I do miss him. He’s so busy now that he started playing on the school team.” You shiver slightly.

Suddenly, you feel something warm envelop you. Dabi places his jacket across your shoulders. The warm leather immediately warms you.

“Aw. You’re such a cutie.” You grin, slipping your arms into the sleeves.

“Fuck off. I’ll take it back.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He doesn’t respond to that so you know you’re right. The sleeves fall over your hands and you flap them in the air. You always forget how much bigger Dabi is than you. Even now, he’s almost two heads taller, even with his horrible posture.

“You look stupid with that on.” He says.

“I’m warm, though. Sacrifices have to be made.”

Soon enough you reach your door. He watches as you fumble for your house key before brandishing them out your bag. You go to take the jacket off and he waves you away.

“S’fine, just give it to me tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure. It’s kinda cold out.”

“I’ll be alright.”

You both stand there then. Just looking at each other. Part of you thinks that maybe you should bring up the kiss. Is it worth bringing up? Did it even mean anything? You decide against it, only because that soft look on his face is so rare that you don’t want to do anything to ruin it.

“Thanks for walking me home, Dabi.”

“Touya.”

You tilt your head slightly. “Who?”

He smiles slightly. “It’s my name.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“You can- You don’t have to call me Dabi. You can- if you want. I don’t really care.”

You think he does care. Very evident by his stammering, something you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. It’s cute. You don’t look into why he’s given you this privilege. You’ve heard Shigaraki and maybe Toga call him Touya before, but some part of you always knew it was a line you shouldn’t cross. Not anymore, though.

“No, I want to. Touya.”

He breathes heavily. He’s looking at you the way he was before he kissed you on that couch. Your eyes dart to his lips, and you know he saw, because he does the exact same.

“I- I should go. Goodnight, Touya.”

He nods. “Night.”

You lock the door behind you, hang up your keys. You’re not ready to ruin your friendship because of a look. A truth or dare kiss that probably means nothing.

The leather of his coat feels sticky on your skin as you walk yourself to bed.

—————————————————————————-

God I’m such a sucker for dabi in everyday normal setting…… teenager Dabi…..

Part two is posted !

[moosesarecute]

Part 3: The shadows sing

Part 1, part 2, part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You were fuming with anger.

This male first of all thought of her as someone that needed help.

He killed your naga, making you distracted so that you missed the second one, leaving you without money. He then grabbed your wrist. And then he asks for your name?!?!?

You couldn’t do anything other than shake your head. What a prick.

You were just going to yell more at him when he yelled out “ouch” and hit something on his neck.

When he lowered his hand you felt all color leave your face.

A Gelbbug.

“Shit!” You said, trying to hold back a gasp. “Do you have the anecdote?”

The male looked confused at you.

“I don’t need an anecdote for a small bug bite,” he answered.

Before you could tell him your feelings about how stupid he was, he fell unconscious to the ground.

“Gods!” You exclaimed. “Just because you’re stupid doesn’t mean I wanted you to die!”

You knew you had to act fast.

You ran towards him and did your best to pick him up without hurting his wings or yourself.

You let loose the hold you had on your shadows.

“Stupid girl,” they muttered to you.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you answered. “Can you please help get us home?”

Luckily for you, they listen to you. They would usually spent some time being mad at you after you hid them for a longer period of time.

They must have understood the urgency.

The shadows transported you to your cabin. You carefully laid the male down on the floor, again making sure you didn’t hurt his wings.

He was out cold, but still breathing. Good.

“Where’s the anecdote?” You asked and soon both you and your shadows were looking.

You opened the door to your cabinet, looked under your bed, on the table, in the shelf, even in the holes in the roof!

“Here!”

You turned to where your shadows called you. The bottle stood in the behind all the other bottles you had. You hadn’t seen it in the stressed rush.

You grabbed the bottle and sat down on the floor beside the male.

You carefully opened his mouth and poured the anecdote in. You didn’t want to, but you gave him almost all of it. Just spearing a few drops for emergencies. You could never know when you would be able to get a refill.

“They say thank you for helping their master.”

You furrowed your brows. What were they talking about now?

“Huh?” You answered.

But then you saw them.

Shadows.

Much darker than your own.

They were circling the male. The Illyrian that laid on the floor in front of you.

You stood up abruptly. You felt terror spreading through your body.

Illyrian

“Oh gods,” was all you were able to say.

You couldn’t breathe.

You had not only helped an illyrian male, you had brought him into your home.

No no no no no

What if he’d seen your shadows? Why does he have his own shadows? Is he a shadowsinger too? He must be dangerous.

Your chest was in so much pain.

You couldn’t breathe.

You felt your heart beat up your throat.

The darker shadows moved closer to the male and when your eyes followed them, they were met with the most beautiful hazel eyes.

“Who are you?” The male said, raising his hand towards the knife that was strapped to his leg.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you had stumbled out the door of your cabin and ran away.

It was dark when you first dared to go back to your home. Except for the nagas, you had a successful hunting day. You managed to catch a few fireflies and 2 different types of birds.

“Is he gone?” You asked your shadows.

In your cowardly attempt to get as far away from the illyrian as fast as possible, you had left all your shadows behind.

“Hmpf,” they answered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn’t have left you behind. I’ll bring you next time, I promise.”

You spent a while waiting for their response. You stood outside your cabin, waiting for a few mad shadows to let you in. You felt like an idiot.

But luckily for you, the door opened and you got to go inside.

You stuck your head inside first. When you saw that you were alone, you walked in.

Everything looked like it did when you left.

You let out a relieved sigh. Maybe he just left and won’t bother you again.

You let yourself believe that you scared him away, even though he was the one scaring you.

You sat down on the tree stump you had as a chair and reached for the paper with the week’s assignments.

“Five fireflies and two birds is,” you spent some time counting. “15 coins.”

You stood up and started to get into your bed. Which was a mattress that laid on top of a few planks.

“Food?”

You looked at your shadows and let out a sigh.

“Not today. I don’t have enough. Unless a miracle happens, I’ll be starved at the end of the month. One meal a day must be enough.”

“What do you have?” Master Raven asked.

“5 fireflies, 6 birds and a stag.” You told him.

“You have to work harder than that to get anywhere in this world.”

Master Raven walked to the next person.

It had been an entire week since the incident with the illyran. Which meant you had three more weeks with only 10 percent of the profits from your hunting.

The rest would go to play your debts.

However, for you to hunt and pay your debt, you had to be alive. And with this little money, you were struggling.

Which only meant one thing: you’d have to fight.

Master Raven always kept 10 percent of everyone’s profit and spent it on food or tonics you could need.

Usually, you didn’t need to fight, you hunted for your own food and used the little money you had on oatmeal and ingredients to make your own pain medicine.

The rest you saved to buy the more complicated potions.

But now you had less and less food and your energy levels were on the ground.

“I have two breads, a kilogram oatmeal and 500 gram chicken. Who’s fighting?”

All 19 of you raised your hands.

“Y/N against Hazel first,” Master Raven declared and you and Hazel both took a step forward. “What are you fighting for?”

“Oatmeal,” Hazel said.

Hazel was half high fae and had been born into the Autumn court. After a few centuries she got sick of the treatment she got and ran away.

She was a good hunter, but not that good of a fighter.

“Oatmeal,” you agreed with her.

Both of you took your places, ten steps in between. You had picked knives as weapons and the fight began.

She attacked first, but you easily blocked the hit to your leg. You were next and tried to go for her arm, but she blocked you as easily as you did her.

Maybe you underestimated her.

You were singing with happiness as you walked towards your cabin. You had gotten two servings of oatmeal and half a bread.

Almost all parts of your body hurts, but you didn’t care.

You had won three fights! You had proven yourself to not be as useless as Master Raven thinks!

Finally a good day!

You swung open the door to your cabin and danced your way in.

“You won’t believe it!” You said. “I won three fights! I have food for like 4 days!”

But your shadows didn’t answer.

However, someone else did.

“Who are you talking to?” The illyran from a week ago asked with a raised brow.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 4

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You don't hear from Faye. You don't expect to. Can you blame her? You're much happier with your absentee dad than an overbearing brute like hers. And it's fair to assume you snitched her out, why would she suspect her own father of tracking her phone? 

That's deranged. Truly. Once more, you're thankful that no one really cares enough to be strict with you. Sometimes you swear your mom forgets she even has kids. 

She's on the porch that day when you leave for work. You have the green grocery store blouse on with a pair of thrift store slacks that don't breathe. It's hot out and many of your neighbours are hiding inside with their window fans and raggedy old AC units buzzing. Some kids run through a sprinkler at the end of the street and two men drink cold ones on their stoop.

The block can be shady but it's home to you. The few times Faye came around were fleeting. She only stopped by to pick you up or drop you off. You often caught the look in her face, that one of judgment but pity. 

You don't hold it against her. She can't help the gap between you. You've accepted your place. You'll ruin your arches slaving away as a cashier and she would have stopped talking to you anyway once she finished school. Frankly, you're surprised she hasn't already. 

A honk makes you jump. You stop short as a car pulls up in front of you before you can cross. You back up as you recognise the finish. You cross your arms. What the hell? 

You go to circle around the back of the car and he shifts into reverse. You huff and he rolls forward as you go back the other way. You stop and stomp your foot. The window rolls down on your side. 

"Mr. Marshall, I'm on my way to work," you grit.  

"You? Work?" He says. 

Your rage simmers and you measure your breath. He's not going to ruin your day. You stand still and stare over his car. 

"Some of us have to," you sniff, "isn't that what you always said?" 

"Didn't realise you listen to me," he scoffs. 

"Are you going to let me pass?" You snip. 

He's quiet as he idles by the corner. He leans over the passenger seat to see you better, "you got home safe." 

"Don't act like you care," you retort, "alright? If you're looking for Faye, I haven't heard from her. Besides, don't you have GPS?" 

"I didn't say anything about Faye," he insists. 

You curl your fingers as your frustration mounts, "then why are you bothering me?" 

"I'm on duty. Was in the neighbourhood," he says coolly. 

"Right, sure," you mutter and check your phone. 

"Gonna be late? Hop in." 

"You're not serious. After last time--" 

You stop yourself. Why is he doing this? He just wants a rise out of you but why? Why do you matter to him? He only ever thought of you as a bad influence for his angel of a daughter. They can both piss off. 

"You really don't let things go," he chuckles. 

"Speak for yourself," you sneer. 

"So... this your neighbourhood?" 

You turn on your heel and cross the other way. You're done. You're not going to stand there and be mocked. Maybe if he ever asked instead of glaring and growling, he'd know more than he assumed. 

You don’t look back and he doesn’t follow. You’re happy at least for that. You get your fair share of jackasses at work, one on the way is too much. 

🌙

Your shift drags on. You’re thankful for the air conditioning but not the work. Customers barter over the cost of potatoes or complain that you’re out of their preferred seasoning. You try to look like you care but that’s the hardest part of the job. 

The dinnertime rush peters out and you lean on your till. Brandy goes to stock the shelves with Ricky as Ariel texts away on her phone. The monotony is set to drive you crazy, that and the dad rock wafting from the speakers and droning through the mostly empty aisles. 

You pore over an Archie comic as the seconds tick by. You’re only taken away from Riverdale as you sense a shadow at the end of your lane. You stand up and close the magazine, tucking it back on the shelf. You nearly let your disappointment bubble out to sigh as you recognise your customer. 

Walter sets down a glass bottle of root beer and one of the ready-made meals from the deli. You don’t say a word as you push them across the scanner and to the other side of your till. You hit total. 

“Cash or credit?” 

He doesn’t answer. He steps close to the other side of the till and looks over easily at you. You squint back with derision. 

“Sir, you gotta pay--” 

“Is it any good?” He points to the tray of rice and fixings on the far end of the till. “The General Tao chicken? Don’t want crunchy rice.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can put it back on the shelf if you don’t want it.” 

“If you had to recommend something--” 

“I don’t eat that stuff. Too pricey,” you focus on keeping your eyes from rolling back in your head. 

“Sure, still cheaper than the burger joint across the lot,” he takes out his wallet, “long day. I’m starving.” 

You tap the machine to signal him to pay. He taps his card and you print his receipt. You place it on top of the tray of chicken and rice and reach for the Archie comic once more. 

“So you haven’t heard from Faye?” He asks. 

“I knew--” you stop yourself, “no, Mr. Marshall,” you lean back and open the book, fluttering through to find your page, “she isn’t my daughter.” 

He lets a breath out heavily through his nostrils. He grabs his soda and the chicken. You ignore him for the antics of Jughead, his existence lingering just along the edge of your vision before slowly stalking off. 

You can’t help but wonder why he’s looking for Faye and if she’s okay. 

[dizscreams]

Gotcha! — Ethan Landry ★

Pairing: Ethan Landry x fem!carpenter!reader

Summary: Reader is a Carpenter sister! She’s in a secret relationship with Ethan and has Ethan over not knowing that Sam’s home

Warnings: Y/N and baby is used, it’s kinda suggestive but mostly fun fluff

A/N: I AM SORRY! I know i have random thoughts that i always just need to right down and I end up not doing the things I should. BUT IM WORKING ON THE JACK FIC DONT WORRYY! The Ethan tag was just dry today so I’m trying to help 🫶

“Shh! I need to make sure nobody’s home.”

Your voice echoed through the halls as Ethan reluctantly pulled away from your lips and followed behind you. “You said nobody was going to be home,” he said looking at you slightly confused. You opened the door and double checked around the apartment. Sam and Quinn’s keys were gone from the rack by the door so you took it as a sign nobody was there.

“I know but I just needed to double check.” You smiled and kissed him again, he quickly followed your movements and smiled into the kiss. Without breaking the contact you stepped inside and went to your room, making sure to shut the door behind you.

Ethan signaled for you to jump so you did and wrapped your legs around his waist while he carried you to your bed. Once he laid you down on the bed and got on top of you, you broke the kiss to kiss his neck. You slightly tugged his curls causing a small whine to escape his lips while yours held a smirk. “Tease,” he mumbled before nipping at the skin of your neck as payback.

You could have sworn you heard a door creak at that moment which caused you to slightly push him back. “Did you hear that?” You asked looking at the door and he followed your eyes. You both listened for a minute before he broke the silence, “Baby, there’s nobody home, remember? I’m sure it’s nothing.” You looked at him slightly worried but figured he was probably right.

You nodded in agreement and muttered a quiet “Okay.” With that he started to kiss your neck, with one hand holding his balance above you while the other was lifting up your shirt. Ethan slowly rubbed his hand up and down your side. “Can I take this off?” He murmured against your skin and you eagerly nodded and lifted up. He quickly took the fabric off of you and threw it somewhere across the room before taking off his own shirt.

While slightly smirking, he went back to kiss you before softly kissing up and down your stomach, trying his best to ease you since he could tell you were on high alert.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your relationship with him it’s just you knew your sisters. Ever since Woodsboro they were beyond paranoid, Sam more than Tara, and it was understandable. You all went through a lot so of course, it was easy to have trust issues. And you trusted Ethan, you really did, but you knew Tara and Sam would be sketch and you didn’t want to bother with it.

They’d meet him eventually but for now you liked having him to yourself. The thrill of having a secret relationship was fun anyways and he’s told you repeatedly he doesn’t mind. You were glad to have a boyfriend as understanding as him.

Right as Ethan was about to take off your bra you heard something again.

“Okay, you had to have heard that.” He raised his head up, he did hear it, he just didn’t want to say anything cause he didn’t want you to worry. And he was hard

“Maybe it’s just the apartment next door?” He suggested but you gave him an unconvinced look that shut him up. You sat up, “I’m going to check it out.” but Ethan pushed you back down, “No, don’t. Just stay with me, please? I can protect you.” He told you while kissing your collarbones.

You rolled your eyes, “What if it’s Sam or Tara?”

He huffed out a breath, “Here, what if I go check it out?”

You looked at him curiously with a playful smile, “What, cause I’m a woman you don’t think I can handle whatever it is?” You teased. He turned red at that, “What- no that’s not what I meant-“ you cut him off with a kiss and chuckled at his fanatics. “I know,” you softly said calming him down, “You can go look just be quick, please?”

He nodded and got up, not bothering to put his shirt back on. You sat up against the headboard and played with your fingers while biting your lip in thought. What if it was one of your sisters? Or what if it was Ghostface? It couldn’t be, right? You’d definitely rather deal with Sam or Tara than a serial killer, but Richie and Amber were dead. There wasn’t anything to worry about anymore.

God what was taking him so long?

Your thoughts got cut off by Ethan’s voice, “Um, Y/N, can you come in here please?” He sounded like he was in the living room. But more importantly he sounded worried. You wasted no time in putting on a shirt and heading towards the living room. “Yeah? What’s-“

Oh shit

You were met with your older sister, a smirk on her face and her arms crossed and your very embarrassed boyfriend, scratching the back of his neck. “Sam it isn’t-“

“Isn’t what it looks like?” She finished your sentence with a snicker. Then she pointed to Ethan eyeing him, “When did this happen?” She asked cocking her head to the side. You were speechless. Ethan cleared his throat, “I’m gonna- let you guys talk.. and I’m going to put a shirt on.” He mentally cringed at himself for stuttering and quickly went back to your room and shut the door.

You could barely make eye contact with Sam knowing that she found this amusing and was 100% going to tease you about this for a very long time. “How long have you been here?” Your voice sounded smaller than you wanted it to, but you held your head up anyways.

She laughed a little, “Oh you know- just the whole time.” Your eyes went wide and looked right at her. “The whole time!?”

This caused her to laugh even harder, “Yeah, the only reason my keys weren’t here was because Dan- a friend took me home. Tara has my car.”

You squinted at her not forgetting to bring up whoever this “friend” she mentioned was later. Just as you were about to say something smart to her Ethan walked back in still shirtless.

“Hi-“ he did his awkward wave, “Sorry to interrupt but you have my shirt, y/n.” You looked down at what you were wearing and your mouth made an ‘O’ shape. Oops. “Just go back in my room and I’ll be there in a minute.” You told him and he did what you asked with no hesitation. You smirked at that but turned back around to focus on your sister.

She was now sitting on the small chair you had by the front door. “Did you guys have fun?”

“Were you listening to us?! You’re so creepy!”

“I had to make sure he wasn’t going to murder you!”

“Oh my god, you’re the worst.”

“I love you too, sis,” Sam got up and walked to the kitchen, opening up the fridge, “I would’ve said anything before you two.. did anything. Speaking of which! You do know how a condom works, right?”

“Oh my god, Sam! You’re so embarrassing.”You said throwing a couch cushion at her. “Hey! I just need to know you’re being safe.” She said giggling and you couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your face. “Whatever, I’m going back in my room. I’ll make sure we keep it PG for you. Love you!”

She shook her head with a smile as you walked off. Once she made sure you were out of sight she called Tara, “You wont believe what just happened-“

lol this was fun to write hope you enjoyed :)

TAGLIST: @beary-rambles @wekiamo @dizzyscreams i forgot abt it sorry!

[fantasylandloser]

Orders

Paring: Rick Flag x Reader

Warnings: mention of imprisoned reader/ angry Rick/ injury to reader/ mentions of death/ lmk if you see anything else

Disclaimer: what is editing? what is a coherent plot? what is writing?

enjoy :)

***************

You weren’t known to disobey orders. Originally you had been trying to get as much time off your sentence as possible and did your best on missions, so that they would continuously use you. Without meaning to you became an invaluable asset to Waller, so much so that she granted you your freedom or at least her version of it. 

She demanded that you go on multiple missions with task force X. Waller also paraded your ‘redemption’ in front of any committee or anyone who had money or power she could use by her side. She made you wear a bracelet that dampened your powers, originally it had been a heavy piece of metal that hung around your neck like a collar before she switched to something more bearable. She also placed you under the eye of Rick Flag. Every mission he was on, you were there as well. His orders led you on and off the field. 

And usually, you followed them. It was easier that way. Usually. 

“You do not disobey a direct order!” Your face was heated from being publicly reprimanded, and the anger you were beginning to feel. You say nothing and avoid his heated gaze not wanting to lose control while your powers were still free. 

“You do not have the privilege of ignoring orders!” He reminded you, angrily. At his words, and the reminder that you were not truly free, you vaguely felt your control on your emotions slip but you continued to stand at attention.

“That’s cold.” Deadshot mutters to Harley, who he’d barely seen since their first mission together. 

“As ice.” Harley agreed. 

They are both surprised by the events of the mission. You’re usually the goody two shoes of the group. In another life you definitely would have been a soldier from the start, but tonight Flag was in danger and you risked the mission and your life to save him. Flag was furious and deadshot had a feeling it was less about the mission and more about you. 

“You listen to me! That’s your only job. That’s all you have to do! What you did tonight was idiotic!” You’re usually more stoic around the group, a measure you’ve taken to protect yourself but the more Rick lays into you the more visibly upset you become. 

It was no secret that you were one of if not the most powerful on the team. So when your eyes start to glow and then your hands, and second later you’re engulfed in the light your power causes, looking like you were about to explode, Deadshot thought it was time to intervene. 

“Your ass would be dead if she hadn’t disobeyed your orders, Flag. And the mission is complete, that's what matters right?” But Rick didn’t care, he couldn’t see past his own rage on what could have happened. 

Rick approaches you, bracelet in hand, the one that he’s the only one authorized to put on and take off. “We’ll talk about the consequences later.” You wordlessly offer him your wrist, that you only now realize is glowing, you focus just enough to get it to go away from that area so it doesn’t hurt him, even though he deserves it. 

'Am I dismissed?’ Is all you say once he’s done, obviously detaching yourself from him. He only nods which is good enough for you.

****

Most people would be happy to go home after a hard day at work and their boss being on their ass, but you lived with your boss. Something else you could thank Waller for.

The ride home was tense, where the two of you would usually debrief. And the house seemed to be even more silent. 

Rick found himself calming down but you were livid. Not that it truly mattered. You were basically just his prisoner, not his friend like you allowed yourself to believe. 

You carried your anger towards him for days. Unwilling to speak and trying to be as far as you were allowed to be away from him. Which was hard considering that the two of you did damn near everything together. 

“Are you really still mad?” Rick huffs, finally having enough when you sparred with someone else, leaving him with a new recruit. 

“No sir.” You say, which only infuriated Rick more. He’d never seen someone detach themself so politely. He really had no clue how you were ever a criminal. 

“Cut the bullshit.” He sighs, running a hand down his face.  “You’re my friend, talk to me.”

“Wrong. I’m your prisoner.” You correct. “Your employee, your slave, those are actually true.”

Rick's face turns dark. “You are not my slave.” 

“I’m not your friend either.” You retort. 

“We were friends a week ago.”

“Then you reminded me of my place. Thank you for that.” You’re sure that no amount of petty will hide how hurt you are. It still wouldn’t hurt to try.

“You disobeyed an order!” Came his booming voice, which you’re sure they heard outside his office. 

“To save your life. Don’t worry I won’t do it again. I learned my lesson.” Rick can’t help but sigh knowing that's not how he wanted the conversation to go.

*******

You did not learn your lesson. Rick stared at you intensely from his spot on the helicopter. Surprisingly he hadn’t said a word yet but you knew it was coming. It had barely been a week since you told him you wouldn’t do it again. During said week you have barely spoken to him, which led him to be nicer than usual because he wanted your friendship back. You were sure that was gone. 

When you and the rest of the squad lands, instead of talking to everyone like he usually does he calls your name gruffly. “My office. Now.” You can’t help the irritation and the slight pinch of dread you feel. Last week the consequences he’d given you were brutal workouts that left you sore for days. You still felt the effects of them and you weren’t in the mood for more.

Once the door was closed behind you, Flag slumped in his chair. He looked genuinely exhausted and you imagine he must be. You wait for him to speak, not wanting to escalate the situation further. 

“Sit down. I know you’re tired.” It’s a trap. You do so hesitantly. 

Rick can’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He can’t help the fact that he’s exasperated and he doesn’t truly know why. Any leader would be happy to know that the soldiers that stood behind him were willing to die to protect him. And maybe once he could remember feeling that way, but he could also remember being more proud to get them home safely .

 Rick stares at you for a good two minutes without breaking eye contact, before glancing at the clock on the wall. “Do you have something you want to say?” He asks you. Definitely a trap. 

“It’s my job to protect you, sir.”The formality you tack on at the end let’s Rick know how you’re going to try to play this conversation. 

“It is your job to listen to me.” He corrects, which you have to refrain from rolling your eyes at. 

“It’s your job to try to get everyone home in one piece. Including yourself. Also, asshole if you die where the fuck do I go?” You ask, frustratedly scoffing at the look of realization on his face. “When you get over your death wish then I’ll start to listen to you again.”

Rick falls silent again as he thinks over your words. “Am I dismissed?” You ask, the tone of your voice conveying your anger. But you also urgently needed to get away from him. 

“No.” He answers, ignoring your huff of frustration. “Do you have anything else you want to say to me?” 

“You wouldn’t want to hear anything I have to say to you.” Your disregard for respect is noted, but at the moment it’s not what he’s concerned about. 

“You’re hurt.” He says finally, watching as shame creeps up on your face. “What reason do you have for not reporting your injuries?” He asked blankly, his southern drawl making him sound less upset than he was, but you knew better. 

Rick watched surprise take over your face at the fact that he knew. “It’s not that bad.” You tell him. That was a lie though, and the only reason you hadn’t said anything is because you didn’t want to give him anymore reason to be mad over you ignoring his orders. Also you would be pissed to hear I told you so. 

Rick sighs, he‘s exhausted, angry, worried and frustrated and the last thing he feels like dealing with is you lying to his face.

Without another word, he stands from his seat. He’s not in the mood to argue, especially when you’re clearly wrong. When he kneels in front of you, you blanch a little  unsure of what he’s doing when he takes out his pocket knife. 

He makes quick work of cutting your suit to see the affected area. You start to protest but it dies on your lips when he glares at you, leaving you unaware of the pout that settles there instead. You wince once you see the bruised area that leaves your skin discolored. It looks worse than you thought it would. 

“That’s definitely broken.” He states. He presses softly against the bruise, eliciting a hiss from you. You hear him mutter under his breath ‘not that bad’ mockingly. 

Even though you know you shouldn’t say anything and you’re not in the position too you can’t help yourself. “You know a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt.” And because you’re a pain in the ass you add, “Even if I’m just your prisoner.” 

The look he flashes you is bordering deadly. “You want me to thank you for the stupid shit you keep pulling in the field.” You squint at him defiantly, adrenaline still crashing through your veins from the events because you shouldn’t even have the energy to argue with him, but you do. 

“The stupid shit that saved your life? Yeah.” Rick is astonished by your insubordination, it’s new and most likely a product of you being frustrated by your circumstances. He laughs a little, obviously pissed.

You’re surprised when he grips your jaw in one hand and pulls your face closer to him. “I’m only gonna say this once, and you’re gonna listen since you’re so convinced that I own you. “ He speaks slowly. “There are a thousand men just like me. They were trained the same, they think the same, they live the same life as me. There is only one you.” Rick takes in the way your eyes are almost bambi like and basically a window into your naivety trying to avert your gaze. He knows you hate to hear it. You hate being told how special you are, you don’t believe it. 

“Look at me.” You do.He's still holding your jaw, but his grip is softer now and you could pull away, but you don’t.

“Nobody out there is like you. Nobody. And you could really change the world when you get out of this mess, for good. Stop trying to save me all the time. I can take care of myself.” You purse your lips knowing that if it came down to it again you would do the same. He knows that.

“Sir, yes sir.” You say jokingly, your smile wobbly and your eyes wet. “Your best pep talk yet.” You inform him. 

He grins at you exasperated, but willing to let it go. 

“Let’s go to the med bay, before you pass out.” 

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Can i ask for some headcanons about Zack from final fantasy kissing the face of a s/o who is crying and comforting them? I hope it doesn't seem weird, I just thought it would be cute ♡ thank you for reading and I love sm your hcs its perfect!

Zack Fair with Crying S/O

pairing : zack fair x gn!reader

cw: none! zack is a cutie patootie and he deserves pure fluff.

it genuinely would probably take zack a hot moment to notice your crying at all.

i mean he comes home, all sweaty after a gruesome training session, muttering a soft, “hey baby,” and placing the gentlest kiss on the top of your hair, hand resting on the back of your head.

but he’s focused on hitting the shower.

so focused that when you try and wrap your arms around him for comfort, he’s pushing you away from him, “ah, baby y’don’t wanna touch me right now. i’m all sweaty and gross.”

he thinks nothing of it, it's not the first time he's rejected your touch to prevent you from smelling him after training. he's saving you from it, he thinks.

so he continues on to the bathroom, bag of equipment thrown loosely on his shoulder.

that is, until, he hears soft sniffles coming from behind him, making his shoulders droop.

zack has tuned himself to understand your emotions. a simple sniff could mean you were getting sick, or that it was simply dusty in the house and he would need to clean soon.

but multiple, in a row, followed by hiccuped breaths. not good.

suddenly he's regretting not accepting you hug.

he turns in an instant, dropping anything he holds to rush over to your side, sitting the two of you down on the couch, face to face.

“what happened baby?” “hey, hey, look at me, my love.” and while he means to comfort you, his words have your cracking and you breakdown in front of.

zack would take your cheeks into his hands, making you face him. his brows furrow when he sees the tears slipping from your beautiful eyes, running down past your lips.

though at first you refuse to speak, his thumb’s gentle caress of your cheekbone coaxes the reasoning out of you.

even while tired after a long day, he listens to what you say, following every word. gaze never faltering, hands on your face never dropping.

“awh, my baby doesn’t deserve that..”

“poor baby.” his thumb wipes a tear that falls from your lashline line.

he places the softest kiss to your cheek, then another in the same spot.

he notices an instant change, it seems to soften your breathing. and your sniffling subsides. you’ve calmed.

“that helping, love?” yeah it is. he knows.

so he places another. and another. and one more.

his lips covered the stray tears on your cheeks, kissing them away.

zack moves your face, giving him the perfect angle to any spot he wishes to kiss.

he covers your jaw, cheeks, forehead, in soft kisses.

at first it feels sporadic, like he’s calculating where his lips will land.

but in an instant he find a steady rhythm, planting kisses wherever his lips land on your face rather then picking a specific spot.

it has your face heating up, and your heartbeat leveling to a steady beat.

you push him away, with gentle hands, almost whining between giggles, “zackk stoppp.”

but he knows that really means, ‘keep kissing me please.’

when he notices a smile on your face, placing another kiss on your nose, he feels that his methods have worked.

“feeling better? yeah?”

zack looks at you with tired eyes, always on you, always giving his full attention. he would never dare to leave you feeling worse than before.

he places a final kiss on your lips, lingering, purely a selfish act now that he sees you have calmed down.

“come shower with me baby, that always helps me calm down.” and he grabs your hand, pulling you slowly from the couch.

[augustinewrites]

happy diluc day!

like every year, you’ve placed yourself at the head of diluc’s birthday party planning committee. 

and like every year, diluc pretends not to notice you and adelinde giggling and scheming whenever he leaves the room. (it’s his house, and he’s the darknight hero. not much gets past him.)

it’s not as if he feels the need to intervene. you know him well, and know how to plan a party to his liking. not overly gaudy or crowded, with good food, good drinks, and good people. 

the guest list is always impressive. you - and by proxy, diluc - have made a lot of friends from beyond mondstadt the past few years. 

you hug each one as they come in. the gentleman from wangsheng funeral parlour, the yanshang teahouse owner, the lord and lady of the kamisato clan, and the akademiya scribe, to name a few. diluc shakes each of their hands and thanks them for coming as he welcomes them into his home. 

the traveler also makes an appearance. diluc greets she and paimon heartily, glad to see old friends. 

at least until she mutters, “i’m sorry.”

he glances down at her, confused. “sorry for wh—”

“hey, girlie! wait up!”

he immediately stiffens when he glances up to see who’s called out to her, and you grab diluc’s arm, keeping him grounded and rooted in place when the fatui harbinger comes trotting up to him.

“master diluc, right?” he asks, grinning as if he isn’t seconds from death. “happy birthday, sir!”

“what is he doing here?” he demands, looking between you and the traveler. 

you wring your hands tightly. “i— i just gave lumine a plus one, i didn’t think that she’d bring—” you look to lumine, who sighs.

“we’d just finished our weekly foray at the golden house and he just invited himself along…”

“that i did!” the harbinger grins, casually throwing an arm around her. “i’ve always wanted to meet the infamous diluc ragnvindr. you know the fatui still tell stories of the red storm?”

“i suppose i didn’t do my job if there are still people around to tell stories,” he scoffs. 

“well, you did something right, because if it weren’t for you, i would have never gotten the eleventh seat!”

diluc can feel you fix him with a hesitant gaze. to this day, he’s only shared a fraction of what he’d done during his time…abroad. 

the harbinger is lucky you’re here, keeping diluc’s hands away from his throat. 

“don’t worry, master diluc!” paimon chimes in, obviously attempting to dissolve the tension in the foyer. “paimon will keep her eyes on him and make sure that he stays out of trouble!”

“you’ll be neck deep in mint jelly in a few minutes, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” the traveler scolds. 

“don’t worry,” the harbinger says, holding his hands up in surrender. “if i wanted to do anything nefarious, i would have already. i’m just here for my girlfr—”

“you’re not my boyfriend.”

“not yet.”

“not even in your dreams.”

“like i said, not yet.” 

diluc watches the two in confusion. what in teyvat was he seeing right now?

“excuse us,” you cut in, interrupting their bickering and smiling as you tug diluc away from the group and into the linen closet.

“are you okay?” you check, a deep frown on your face. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t think a harbinger would show up. i can kick him out—”

“it’s fine,” he tells you. “there’s no need to make a scene. it’s highly unlikely he would try anything here, surrounded by the knights, and with so many high ranking people around. and if the traveler trusts him…” 

your nod is followed by an awkward silence, one diluc feels the need to break. “listen, what he said about snezhnaya–”

“diluc, it’s okay–”

“it’s not, i need to be honest–”

“no, you don’t,” you cut him off firmly. “i’m not going to make you tell me what you did, and i’m certainly not going to make you justify it. especially if whatever you did means that you’re here with me right now, celebrating your birthday and not– not buried under the snow somewhere in snezhnaya.” 

he doesn’t think you’ve realized you’re crying, tears gathering on your lash line as you turn away. so diluc pulls you in, letting you cling to him, using his thumb to rub small circles across the back of your neck.

“let’s get out of here,” you mutter. “somewhere harbinger free, just for a few minutes.”

“where do you want to go?”

“every year i have adelinde set something up just outside the vineyard,” you admit with a small smile. “i know kaeya and venti drive you crazy sometimes, so i thought just in case…”

“that’s smart,” he smiles. you really have thought of everything. “should we really leave in the middle of my birthday party?”

the two of you collapse into a fit of giggles, diluc looping and arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"ready?" you ask as you grip the door handle. he nods, and you both run through the winery sneak away from the party and into the vineyard for some very much needed alone time.

BONUS

“oh no. oh no no no,” lumine mutters when mona introduces her to her plus one: a vahumana scholar from sumeru whom she’d been corresponding with as of late. 

“something the matter, traveler?” scaramouche aka the balladeer aka wanderer, aka hat guy asks, sending her a smirk that she wants to wipe clean off his face. his amusement only grows when he sees his former coworker by her side. 

“hey there,” childe greets. then, after staring rather shamelessly, “you look…familiar. have we met?”

[joocomics]

not me getting an idea the second i read this, love @elllisaaa

jiseok watches you walking towards the bathroom, wrapped in a small towel and immediately feels the urge to jump off the bed and join you, but no… he should give you some space. you’re tired and groggy from spending the whole day at uni… he doesn’t want to be annoying and clingy.

however, few minutes later, as he listens to the noise of the running water coming inside the room, he impatiently gets rid of his clothes, and sneaks inside with a grin, already hard.

“jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” you mutter, enjoying the warm water, soothing your limbs. “what are you doing here?”

“i just wanted to hear about your day,” he closes the distance between the two of you, wrapping his hands gently around your neck. “how was uni today?”

“it was good,” you reply before he places a kiss on your lips. you continue telling him more about what you did today, what lectures you had, and that one exam you took in the morning, meanwhile he caresses your warm dripping body, reaching lower and lower.

“exam? was it hard…” you breath in, as his fingers slide down your pussy. he starts rubbing in circles, causing you to shut your eyes from pleasure. his thumb goes along your lips. “tell me more, doll. don’t fall asleep on me.” the way you get weaker with every rub makes him chuckle.

his laugh echoes through the tiled walls when you open your eyes, trying to get back to your story. but all thoughts in your mind are melting from his touch and you only breathe out messy incoherent words.

“there… s-some questions about… n-ngh..” you throw your head back, as he wraps full hand around your throat. he doesn’t squeeze yet, just teases cause he knows you like it. “some q-questions were h-hard, yea.. but—“

“but what? will my dirty girl pass or will i have to discipline her, huh?”

“n-no, i will… i a-answered everything e-else, fuck!”

he spins you around, pressing your cheek to the wall. before you say anything else his cock is inside, hitting deep, rapid and hard, as his hands find your throat again, causing you to arch your spine. his movements are rushed and intense, and you feel getting dizzy as the thrusts keep coming.

“f-fuck, baby, feels amazin’.. your pussy’s always ready for me to fuck it real good…” he smacks your ass a few times, not looking away from the water splashing off your cheeks, as his hips slam repeatedly with force. “did my dirty girl think of my cock again when she should be doing her exam, huh? shit, is that why it was difficult, doll? you couldn’t wait to come home so i can give it to you.. such a good slut for me…” he loosens up his grip, so you can answer.

“y-yes, yes, yes..”

“full sentences, love,” he squeezes harder again.

“mhmm, i was thinking about y-you, your c-cock…” you breathe in more freely when he removes one hand, burying it into your wet tangled hair. “m-my panties got so f-fucking wet from thinking about you all day..” your words follow up with a moan, as your throbbing walls hold his cock tight, leading into both of your highs clashing together.

jiseok always cums faster when you talk back and the provocative words echo into his ears.

[lucyheartfiliqx]

His home

Ship: Natsu Dragneel x Lucy Heartfilia

Summary: Natsu finds out that Lucy’s gone on a date, and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it.

This is the first time I’ve written anything for Tumblr, I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it! :)

_________________________________________________

“Damn, I’m stuffed. This new fire roast of yours is so good, Mira.”

“It really doesn’t take much Natsu. You literally just set the thing on fire.”

“You set them on fire so well thouuuggghhhh.”

It was the early evening, and Natsu and Happy had just come back from a job. It wasn’t difficult, all they had to do was protect a merchant and his wears as he travelled from one town to the next. The money they’d made, which wasn’t much anyway, went straight into Natsu and Happy’s meal. They didn’t regret it one bit.

He wiped his face with his sleeve and stood up. “Right, we’re off to Lucy’s. See you later!”

“Oh no you can’t Natsu, she’s busy right now.”

He turned around to look her, “doing what? Is she out on a job? She went alone?”

“No, no she’s…. on a date!”

Natsu’s eyes became saucers. Mira cupped her hands over her mouth, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“A date you say? How dare she not tell me…” Erza muttered, who could hear the conversation from where she sat nearby.

“Juvia thinks we should stalk!”

“Gray thinks so too.”

“Guys… no.” Came Wendy’s voice from a little further away.

“Oh, Lucy’s going to have me dead by morning. I can’t tell you much about it, but…”

Natsu had stopped listening, the cogs in his brain slowly trying to process this new, shocking information. Hit feet carried him to a bench in the corner of the guild. He slumped down and placed his chin on the table, eyes still wide. Happy followed him over, “hey, you good?”

“…I don’t know.”

The sun had completely set by the time Natsu forced himself up and out of the guild. He began to wander home with Happy slightly lagging behind. He sped up a little every so often to see if Natsu looked like he was in a talking mood, but he never seemed to be. His eyes were trained on the pavement and his feet kept catching on it, not bothering to pick them up properly as he walked.

“…You okay buddy?” He eventually asked, catching up enough to reach Natsu’s shoulder.

He didn’t respond at first. “I’m fine,” he muttered eventually, “just tired. I wanna go home.”

“Why don’t we go to Lucy’s?” He chirped, “we always go to Lucy’s.”

“She’s busy.”

“She won’t be by now, she’s probably back.”

“Let’s just go home, Happy.”

The conversation was decidedly ended on Natsu’s end after that. He picked up his speed and said no more, leaving Happy behind again.

Conversation remained few and far between after they’d returned home. The two of them hadn’t been there in a long time after getting into the habit of staying at Lucy’s every night, so it had accumulated a layer of dust on most surfaces and thick cobwebs had formed on the ceilings and on the corners of some of the furniture.

This, on top of the mess that they’d already left it in, made it look more like a garden shed than a home. To Natsu, in spite of how long he’d lived there, it didn’t feel like home anymore.

Without speaking, he batted his hammock in an attempt to rid it of some dust and clambered up onto it. He turned on his side and faced the wall, bringing his legs up to his stomach as he curled up under the scraggly blanket. Happy understood the message and went to lay on his little bed on the other side of the room, not bothering to try talking anymore.

Instead of going to sleep, he looked up to the collection of requests he’d made above him. His eyes fell on the job at the Evelue mansion that he’d labelled as ‘the first job I ever did with Lucy!’ He smiled a little and looked over some more. Though unlabelled, he could remember every single detail, everything himself, Happy and Lucy had done during the jobs they’d been on as a three.

Though many were unpleasant at best and she’d moan sometimes, Lucy tried to make the best out of bad situations. They always ended up being worthwhile, and more than just for the money. His smile grew as he recounted the memories, but the happiness was temporary and quickly replaced by a dull ache in his chest

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He wanted Lucy to be happy, yes, but not with some random guy. Not with some random guy that didn’t know her like he did. They don’t know what she likes, what she doesn’t like. What she reads when she’s happy or when she’s upset, that she will try and reserve at least one evening a week to getting better at baking. That she likes her apartment to be clean and orderly or it stresses her out, that she sticks her tongue out a little in an act of concentration when she’s writing. That she likes to be hugged from behind to keep warm when she’s too tired to be embarrassed by it.

No.

He had to see her. The thought of her with someone else left a hole so deep in his soul that it hurt. He didn’t know what the rollercoaster of emotions Lucy made him feel meant half the time, but he knew this one.

-

It’d reached half past midnight. Lucy had just finished getting changed and was getting ready for bed when she heard the regular tap on her window. She smiled, rolled her eyes and walked over. She was met with Natsu, his lips forming a thin line, but no Happy. Not thinking much of it, she opened the window and he hopped in, landing quietly on the floor in a more cat-like manner than a human one.

“Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing her dressing gown to cover herself up a little, “it’s so late, I thought you’d decided to stay at the guild.”

“I went back to my house.”

“Oh, really? Why? Did you miss it?”

He looked down at the floor and moved slowly towards the sofa in the middle of the room. He sat down and stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

“Are you alright?” She asked, tilting her head and also walking over to the sofa and sitting down.

He didn’t respond for a while. Eventually, he said, “how was your date?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You know about that?”

“Mira told me. She told quite a few people, actually.”

“Oh, figures. Typical Mira.”

“So?” He pushed, “did you enjoy it?”

She pondered on his question. “It was alright at first, but by the end I knew we wouldn’t click. None of my jokes hit home and he did an awful lot of talking about himself.”

Natsu’s brows raised. “So you’re not going to meet with him anymore?”

“Probably not,” she answered, “there’s no point in putting effort into something that won’t ever work.”

“…Why didn’t you tell me about it? That you were going?” He asked. For a split second, he looked genuinely hurt.

She sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell anyone until it was over. I only told Mira so that somebody would know where I was in case there was an emergency. I would have done, just not beforehand.”

She sighed again, deeper this time, and put her head in her hands.

“Clearly I’m just destined for a life of being alone.”

“…But you’re not alone.” Natsu murmured quietly, not looking up.

She sat up and turned to him but he didn’t meet her eyes.

“You have us,” he continued, “you have… me.”

He looked up at her, his eyes swimming with something she couldn’t quite work out.

She took a moment to respond, somewhat shocked by his words, a light pink tinging her cheeks.

“I-I know.”

“Are you sure you know?”

She smiled and leant her head back against the sofa. “Yeah I do. We’ll always be together, right?”

He nodded with a smile. Lucy figured that he didn’t mean what he’d said in the way that a small part of her heart wanted him to, but it still made her happy regardless.

“I can’t say I plan on going on anymore dates anytime soon.”

“Good.” He whispered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Come on,” he began to clamber into her bed, “bedtime now. It’s late.”

“You’re not sleeping in my bed!” She moaned, pulling at his clothes with the strength her tired body could muster.

He didn’t move a muscle and looked at her, “are we really gonna play this game again?”

She rolled her eyes, reluctantly accepting defeat. She took her dressing gown off and climbed in after him.

“What was that guy’s name?” Natsu asked after a couple minutes of silence.”

“Why?” She asked.

“So I can set him on fire.”

“Oh for god’s sake.”

“Kidding, kidding. Sort of.”

It wasn’t long until she was fast asleep. Natsu stayed on his side of the bed until he could hear her breathing slow and deepen. Slowly, he crept onto Lucy’s side and slid one arm over her waist. He then waited for a bit to make sure he hadn’t woken her up and began the harder of the two. He cautiously slid his other arm under her neck. Still asleep, she felt the movement and received it, sinking into his bicep. He then snuggled up to and sank into her, fitting his knees into the little nook hers had made.

And there he stayed, listening to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing. In, out, in, out. He was warmer here. Calmer. More at peace. He didn’t like his old shack. He wanted to be at Lucy’s house. With Lucy. Not long after, sleep succumbed to him too.

Right where he belonged.

[schrijverr]

You Don’t Know Me, But I Know You 2

Chapter 2 out of 6

5 times Tim showed he stalked Robin + 1 time Jason did

Inspired by this post of thecrazyleader.

On AO3.

Ships none

Warnings: none

~~~~

2. A Familiar Password

“Fuck, I need some of the case files on the Crawfort case, but I haven’t digitized them yet,” Dick’s voices comes over the coms. “I’m on a stakeout and can’t go get them. Can anyone go pick ‘em up and bring them to me?”

“I’m out and about. I can swing by, no problem,” Tim replies.

“Pff, out and about, are you a grandpa?” Steph snorts.

Tim graciously ignores her as he asks: “Which safe house?”

“The one in Cobble Hill, on the border with East Park Side,” Dick answers. “Do you know it?”

“Oh, yeah, that one. I know where that is,” Tim says.

In the moment, Dick thinks nothing of it, turning back to his stakeout. He listens to Tim drive, before coming to a halt. As Tim walks up the stairs to the safe house, Dick starts: “The spare key is-”

“Behind the hallway radiator, I know,” Tim cuts him off, as there is an audible click of the lock. “Is the safe still in the cupboard with the sink?”

“Y- Yeah, how did you know that?” Dick asks, though he doesn’t wait for a reply. “The password is 493117.”

“Still?” Tim’s voice comes out highly judgmental. “You’ve had that password for this safe since you bought it, that’s terrible security!”

“What?” Dick chokes.

“Really? You know how B gets about security, did you ever pay attention?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, like I know password updates suck, but that’s excessive,” Steph agrees, always ready to get on the gossip or shade train. “When did you buy that thing again?”

“Ten years ago!” Dick exclaims. “Which is why he can’t possibly know that. I haven’t even had anyone over in that safe house.”

“Nah, but you aren’t very good at shrugging off a tail, especially at the end of your Robin days, you were fucking cocky back then,” Tim says casually. “Besides, this safe is, like, in full view of the window and you don’t really check if anyone is watching. Again, terrible security.”

“Oh my god, is this from your stalking days?” Steph asks.

“Baby Bird, don’t spread lies, I’m great at shrugging tails,” Dick whines. “And I wasn’t cocky.”

“You were definitely cocky and very annoying,” Jason pipes up. “But I do have to say, Timbo, that is very fucking creepy. You were just following us home and peaking through our windows?”

“I didn’t do it to your homes, Jason, just safe houses. I wanted to know what you were working on,” Tim says, an eye roll obvious.

“No names on the coms,” Bruce reminds them, suddenly speaking up where he’d been silent throughout the previous interactions.

“Don’t you have anything to say about this? Replacement just confessed to peaking through our windows,” Jason says indignantly.

“Not your windows, just this one safe house,” Tim complains. “And it’s not even that much of a safe house, I found it when I was eight.”

“I don’t have anything to say, no. Like all of you, I already know of Red Robin’s previous occupation,” Bruce answers, obviously trying to stay neutral enough so he won’t get caught up in a war between his children. “It’s in the files, if any of you bothered to read those.”

“This is so unfair,” Dick whines.

“You have a file on RR’s stalker behavior, since when? Why didn’t you tell me about that, oh sweet ex of mine?” Steph asks.

“Oh shut up,” Tim mutters, embarrassed. Before he swiftly changes the conversation: “Nightwing, en route to your location. File obtained.”

[backtotheshitshow]

Close as Strangers Part2

Warnings: I’m not sure.

Part 1 Part 3

———Winter 2026———

Y/n moved around the kitchen making diner for herself, listening to her favourite playlist on Spotify.

*knock knock*

Y/n paused the music coming from the speaker and made her way towards the door, pulling it open.

It was him.

He was slightly more buff and fuller in the face, with light stubble, but it was him.

“Why are you here?” Y/n demanded.

“They let me out” he states.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Ethan sighs “I have nothing, no money, no place to go. I didn’t know what else to do.” He explains.

“And what do you expect me to do about that.” Y/n asked, already knowing the answer. Ethan just stared at her.

“You can’t actually think I’m going to let you stay in my apartment, you’re fucking insane.”

He looks to the floor. “Yeah, right, you’re right. I’m sorry.” Ethan mumbles as he walks away.

Later that night, y/n tossed and turned in bed. Her mind thinking over and over about Ethan and everything he had done.

…

The following morning y/n was completing some chores she had around the house.

Stepping into her slippers, she left her apartment to take out the trash and get her mail.

Entering the mail room, through the window out of the corner of her eye she saw a man sleeping on the bench outside.

At first y/n thought nothing of it. It’s New York there’s homeless people everywhere.

It wasn’t until after she’d grabbed her mail, and took a second look at the man, that she stopped.

The man had his face covered with a coat, obviously trying to stay warm. It was his hair that got y/n‘s attention.

“Jesus” y/n mutter as she went to exit the building.

Stepping out of the lobby door, y/n paused for a second. What exactly was she planning on doing or even saying?

“Ethan” y/n whispered to the man on the bench, who startled awake.

It was Ethan. His face was pale and blotchy from the cold.

“ Ethan what are you doing?” Y/n asked.

The boy stood up from the bench. “I’m sorry, I was just sleeping, I wasn’t stalking you or anything, I swear.” Ethan tried to explain.

“why are you sleeping on a bench?”

“I told you y/n I have nothing, I was living in a dorm when I got arrested and my dads house was sold. I have no money.” Ethan confessed to the girl.

“Jesus christ Ethan.” Y/n sighed, thinking for a moment. “Alright you can stay in my apartment for a few days, but there’s conditions.”

“Okay, thank you so much, I knew you still loved me.” Ethan smiled.

“I never said anything about love, Kirsch” There was a sharpness in Y/n voice, Ethan’s smile faded. “Just follow me.”

…

Ethan followed Y/n through the door carefully, feeling the warmth of the heater in the apartment wash over him.

“Sit” y/n told him, pointing to the couch.

Her mind was swirling. What the actual fuck was she thinking? Bring him into her house. What if he was planing on finishing off what his family left behind.

“I need to make a phone call.” Y/n said, grabbing the biggest knife she had in her kitchen and two zip ties from a draw

Ethan jumped up from the couch, visibly scared. “Y/n what are you doing “

“I told you that if your going to stay in my house there are conditions.” Y/n began. “Number 1 if I need to do something quickly without you in the room, you stay in the bathroom and I’ll lock the door from the outside.”

Ethan nodded in agreement.

“Number 2 to when we go to bed, you’ll be sleeping in the bath tub with a pillow and some blankets. And I will zip tie your wrist to the hand towel rack that is next to the tub. I will also be locking the door from the outside until I wake up.”

“So basically anytime I’m not in your line of eyesight, I’m locked in the bathroom?” Ethan summarised.

“I wasn’t done, but yes basically that.” Y/n agreed. “So I need to make a phone call, the bathroom is the door at the end of the hall.”

“Okay” Ethan said, walking down the hall towards the bathroom.

Once inside Ethan takes a look at the tiny space that was basically his new home. He jumps when he hears the door shut and lock.

“I’ll come back when I’m done.” Y/n calls from the other side of the door.

Ethan sinks to the floor resting his arms on his knees.

‘From one prison cell to another’ he thinks to himself.

////

I’m sorry this took so long and if it’s bad, I just started my new job and because of what it is, I have to find a way to balance my brain out for work and writing fics.

Part three will be under way soon 💜💜💜

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 25: Too Much To Ask

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

“New dance bar?”

Thomas smiles triumphantly. “Taken directly from Sabini. By order of the Peaky Blinders.”

“He’s already ticked off and you want to coax him even further? What else has happened that I should know about?”

Thomas plays dumb. “Pardon?” 

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Thomas. Give me some credit. I’m not daft. Arthur had blood on his jacket when you lot came back from the auction. I’ll ask again: what else happened?”

He sighs in annoyment. “Small attack. Arthur jumped on him and tried to mash him to bits.”

Instead of ignoring it my quick tongue acts faster. “Obviously the ‘medicine’ isn’t helping.” My eyes catch a sight of red on his head. “Oh! You’re bleeding-”

“‘M fine.”

We both touch the wound and he tries to make a fuss to convince me it’s nothing. 

"Let me see-"

"Really, love. 'S fine-"

The door opens and we both turn to see Lizzie staring at us with cold eyes.

“Someone here to see you, Mr. Shelby,” she says crossly, staring directly at me.

Thomas nods. “Send him in. You go along, Verena. We have boring business to discuss."

I want to ask more about Arthur but he wants me to go. And leave the subject alone. Fine.

“Very well.”

“Please go file these.”

I take the papers and push through the heavy doors into the office. Lizzie’s still here. Terrific.

“Hello, Ver-”

“Do not pretend to know me well enough to address me by my first name, please. Thomas trusts you to be his secretary and that’s as far as I go. Business only.”

The dark-haired woman huffs in relief. “Thank God. I was afraid I’d have to suffer through small talk.”

“That makes two of us,” I mutter and hand the papers over. 

I know hate is a bad habit. I do not hate. I just… very dislike certain people. Maybe it’s because Lizzie is who he goes to for physical support. Maybe it’s because they share a bond that’s far older and deeper than what I can offer. But I do know one thing: he knows I will listen. When Thomas breaks enough to let his walls down, I listen.

When Michael leaves the office I make the first move to reenter Thomas’ office before Lizzie. Things must be going swimmingly because Thomas isn’t wearing the concerned frown I left him with.

“Your cousin seems very ambitious to get in on the action.”

“He wants to help me become legal.”

I frown. “A bit young to be thinking like that, isn’t he? He’s hardly 18. How does he know how your business lies in his future?”

Thomas gets up from his chair and reaches for his coat. “Time will tell, I guess. Told him to take it up with his mum. Now. How about we head home for dinner? John’s been asking about your stew.”

The tension from today fades when I process his words. “Really? He never said anything.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s too shy about it. He knows you’ve got more important things to do.”

“Oh, John,” I think out loud and follow Thomas outside. “He never needs to feel like that. Of course I’ll make something.”

Knock knock knock!

“We’re not open yet!” Esme calls.

Thank God she’s helping to run the office today. I don’t think I can handle another day with only Lizzie to talk to.

“I’m here to see Thomas Shelby!” A woman outside presses.

Of course. What woman in Birmingham isn’t? Open the door, Steenstra. Try to be nice.

In steps a well-trimmed lady with a classy hat and patterned coat.

“Lovely coat. Who are you?”

She, like everyone else here, catches onto my accent but doesn’t question it. “May Carleton. Horse trainer. I met up with Mr. Shelby at the horse auction.”

“I see. Did Esme inform you that Mr. Shelby has another office for proper meetings? This is no place for a lady like yourself.”

“She did. But Thomas told me to come here specifically.”

“So what are you?” Esme asks with her arms crossed.

May looks confused. “‘What’ am I?”

“To Thomas,” Esme clarifies.

She looks between the pair of us. “I’m going to train his racehorse.”

John pokes his head in and points outside. “There’s a fucking great Riley parked out there and nobody’s watching it.”

Esme, still watching our new guest, says to her husband: “John, this woman says she’s training Thomas’ horse.”

Now John catches sight of May and he dons his own calculating expression. “He’s told us a lot about you.”

May goes straight to the point. “Don’t know where he is, do you?”

The office door opens and the Peaky Blinder leader himself struts into the room. “Sorry for the delay, mates. Bit of a family matter.” He walks over to May and gestures to the office. “So, be my guest.”

What does she expect? It’s a betting shop. It seems the longer she’s here the more curious she becomes.

“When I drove into Small Heath I thought I was going to get murdered. Then I mentioned your name. It was like being escorted to see a king.”

Just like when I first came here.

“You’re here for my girl, right?” Thomas asks her.

“Right.”

And off they go. The question is will he let her get close?

“Think he’ll fuck her before the day’s out?” 

Esme’s blunt question surprisingly does little to stir me as I watch them leave. I’m glad I’m not the only one thinking it.

“Who’s to say? Mix horses with drinking? Sounds like him.”

Time is a fickle thing. In the one hour Thomas meets with May it seems like a single minute has passed. When he walks into the kitchen again he has a peculiar look.

“How did your meeting with Mrs. Charlton go?”

“How do you know she’s married?”

“A woman like that has known marriage. Not by wealth, but the way she handles men. The meeting went well, hm?”

Thomas pours a drink and takes a second look at the chicken I’m preparing. “Very odd, actually. Mrs. Carleton and I carried on a very bland conversation. She doesn’t want to fuck. Only pure business.”

I clean my hands and move on to washing dishes. “Two years ago I would have been surprised by your bluntness. Not every woman thinks the same, Thomas.”

“Between you and her I’m beginning to see that.”

Oh I am so late! Thomas still hasn’t come by. I thought he said he’d pick me up when he was done at Ada’s? Just as well because it looks like Michael’s late for his own party. Him and another Blinder boy are walking down the street just ahead of me.

“Hello, boys.” They turn around and greet me with wide smiles. “Happy 18th, Michael. I’m afraid I can’t stay too long.”

“Um, she’s coming to a bar full of Peaky Blinders?” Michael’s friend asks.

“Why couldn’t I?” I argue back.

“Well, um, maybe it’s different in America but there are some places here that don’t allow unescorted women. Like the pub we just came from. Some pubs won’t serve a black man without a Shelby next to him.” He tips his hat and holds out a hand. “Name’s Isiah, miss.”

Good Lord. They really do that? “Pleasure to meet you, Isiah. I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Come on! Let’s get another drink!” Michael waves us on and opens the door to the Garrison.

“It’s packed in here, innit?”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re meeting in a private room.” I lead them to the side and spot John waving at us.

“Sorry I’m late!” I take a seat next to Finn and the other boys sit across.

“Here they are, look! Junior Peaky boys,” Arthur announces. “What’s happened to ya, you been scrapping?”

"Some idiots at the Marquis of Lorne,” Michael explains. “Tried to stop Isiah and me from drinking but we fought ‘em off. We stood our ground, Arthur!”

Arthur, John, and Finn all stand up but Arthur shoves Finn back down. They straighten their coats and from their changed expressions I can already tell what they’re thinking.

“The Marquis, eh? Where’s your dad?”

“Out preaching,” Isiah answers.

“Right.”

The two Shelby brothers step out around the table. Here we go.

“Where are you going?” Michael asks.

“We won’t be long,” Arthur says before they disappear outside.

“Where are they going?” Michael asks Isiah.

“The Marquis of Lorne,” he sighs. “Shame. It was a nice pub.”

“That’s how this business works, Michael. Now you see what happens when you mess with the Peaky Blinders.” 

Michael takes in my words and it finally clicks. “But they don’t have to-!”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not just you, it’s their image.” I look over at poor Finn, who’s trying to look tough in front of his cousin. “Where’d Tommy go? He was supposed to pick me up.”

“Heard him mention something about May and a horse?”

“Ah.” Let it go, it’s his decision. “No matter trying to predict when he’ll return.”

Finn holds up a deck. “You play, Verena?”

How thoughtful! “On occasion. I prefer to watch, but tonight feels special. What about you guys?”

Both Michael and Isiah nod eagerly and Finn starts shuffling. No gambling, just a few young people playing a friendly card game. 

“This is good stuff,” Michael compliments the gin he’s drinking.

“If you like that then you’ll love my father’s whiskey. Maybe next time I’ll bring a few bottles.”

“Does Tommy trade with your family? He talks about you sometimes.”

He does? “Um, no, Michael. He hasn’t proposed- Ah, suggested a partnership with my family.”

Come to think of it, I’m the only outsider who’s stayed with the Shelbys this long and not married one of them. How long is that stone going to be kicked down the beaten path?

He’s back. Again. For how long? I shouldn’t hold my breath.

“And where have you been?” I ask Thomas the next morning.

“Investigation, business.” So screwing May is business now? “Chatting with Ada.”

My eyes light up. “Oh! How is she? She’s not still mad, is she?”

“No, no. Just doesn’t want any of us Blinders interrupting her life.”

No kidding. “I know how she feels. Every woman needs time to herself.”

Finn looks up from his book. “I thought women travel in packs?”

I stifle a laugh. “No, Finn. Not all of us. Most do. In fact it’s rather annoying, actually. All cackling like drunken hyenas and pretending to like each other.”

Both Shelbys hide their laughter just as Esme walks past. Like always, my best friendships are with men. Alright, enough nonsense. I need to write a letter to home-

“Before you go I’d like to discuss a few matters about your father’s brewery.”

Thomas’ words bring me to a halt. How much does he want to know? Why speak of it now?

“Michael brought it up. How is your dad handling prohibition?” Thomas asks.

“He… does what he can. My family has connections who pull a few strings here and there to let things slip by. Why are you asking?”

He lights a cigarette and lifts his head to look me square in the face. “I’ve decided to start exporting Scotch whiskey to countries with prohibition. You of all people should know that people with enough money will pay for it.”

Phew. He means his own line of networks. “Yes. Father does his best to supply. He’s made deals with people in Ireland.”

“The Irish?” Thomas picks up on my laid-back tone with suspicion. “I didn’t take your father as a man who gets involved with-”

“It’s all business, not politics,” I explain. “Do not forget that my mother is Irish.”

Yes, simple family business. Technically using mobsters as rumrunners isn’t entirely family business but not everyone needs to know that. 

I change the subject. “Anyone want me to make something special?”

“I'm meeting up with Alfie Solomons for Passover,” Thomas says.

“Polly?” 

“Michael and her are having dinner together.”

“You’re welcome to join Esme and me,” John calls from the next room.

I look away to block my disappointment. “That’s alright, John. I can have a quiet dinner by myself.”

Normally I’d be helping to prepare a ham for Easter. Back home. I know I can worship from all corners of the globe but it’s very different without family traditions. Oh well. That doesn’t mean I can’t fix up something for myself.

“I’ll help!”

Finn jumps up and runs over to start washing potatoes. Bless his heart.

“Are you sure? Don’t you lot have your own Easter routine?”

“Not really. Now that Michael’s here it won’t be the same.”

I guess it’s too much to ask if we could all celebrate together.

@meadows5