#he made me play league bcs of this skin

[rosesansstuffs]

my bbg 💗💘

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request some jealous! Eddie x cheerleader! reader? (Totally inspired to request bc of the Billy fic!) But what if Reader and Eddie had been dating for over a year and Reader is a cheerleader, and Eddie's jealous bc he always find Steve, Billy, Jason, and all those jocks flirting with reader (pretend this is B4 season 4) and once they were at Chrissy's party, Eddie to do deals, but he found the jocks flirting with Reader at a party (reader thinks the jocks are dumb). After some hours, Eddie has had enough, he takes her to his van and they have sex and Reader's like, if you were so jealous you should've told me! (But like, she's not angry, she thinks it's cute that Eddie acts overprotective and all that when he's jealous) ik you just wrote the Billy one, but I can imagine Billy and Eddie being like different kind of jealous boys (if that's a thing!)

Haha I'm glad you got some inspiration. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

If the van is shaking, don't come knocking

Eddie knew that the second he took Y/N off the market, there would be consequences. When Eddie was chasing after her, he wasn't the only one. He was running with every boy in school, all competing to win her heart. He knew she was way out of his league, and he knew if he fucked up, she has many options waiting for her.

But for some reason, she set her eyes on Eddie at the start and they never wandered off. Eddie doesn't understand it, but he isn't gonna question it.

Sadly, the jocks didn't quite stop chasing her after their relationship went official. Eddie felt like he had to beat guys off of her with a stick. Even after a full year of being together, the basketball ball team watched her more than the ball. Eddie almost wanted to join the team just so he could throw the ball at their dicks.

Billy Hargrove, a blonde with blue eyes and a reputation for being amazing in bed. Eddie knows Billy isn't a real competition because Y/N was sweet and hated assholes. Plus he looked nothing like Eddie, and Eddie knows he's Y/N's type. So only a .5 threat to Eddie. But Billy knew how to flirt, and that scared Eddie.

Jason Carver, another blonde and blue eyes, is not a threat to Eddie. Incredibly rich? Yeah, he's got that over Eddie's head. Still an asshole, but less than Billy. A full-point threat to Eddie.

Steve fucking Harrington, has dark hair and dark eyes. Bits of curls were thrown in and moles on his delicate skin. He was rich, smart, stupidly friendly, and one of Y/N's closest friends. And the damn guy was good with kids, which Y/N fawned over. A full ten-point threat to Eddie.

~~~

It was party night at Chrissy's and Eddie didn't want to leave the van. Y/N was wearing dark jeans, an old hoodie of Eddie's, and white sneakers. And Eddie wanted to pounce. The way her perfume lingered on his hoodie made his brain shut off and his dick has full control. He couldn't help but move his hand up her thigh and kiss her neck.

"Let's just stay in here." He whispered, his hot tongue licking up her neck. She whined as she melted into his touch. He always knew how to get her hot and bothered in seconds.

"I wish, but we can't. Chrissy was pissed when we skipped the last party to hook up in the hot tub in the basement." Y/N whined, but not trying too hard to push him off.

"Ugh fine. Stupid cheer squad." Eddie said as he groaned. He pulled himself away and took out his keys.

"Be nice!" Y/N warned. She gave him a stern look but still pecked his lips before they got out of the van.

And just like months to a flame, the boys came running.

"Heya gorgeous, interested in some beer bong?" Billy asked, his shirt unbuttoned as his chest glistened in some type of liquid. Eddie slipped his hand into Y/N's back pocket, a glare sent to the bad boy.

"Maybe in a bit? Eddie and I are going to get a drink!" She said sweetly as she waved. Eddie sometimes hated how sweet she was to everyone.

"I'll let your boyfriend play!" Billy tried again, a smirk on his face when Y/N squealed excitedly.

"Baby! Let's go play. You kick ass at this game all the time." Y/N said, grabbing his hand out of her jeans pocket to hold it and drag him to the table.

Y/N swept the hoodie over her head, she didn't want to ruin it with stains of beer or whatever alcohol was in the cups.

Eddie growled as Billy whistled, his eyes taking in Y/N's tight black long-sleeve. Eddie couldn't help but stare as well, but he's the boyfriend so he's allowed to do that.

"Just go, Hargrove," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"If I win, your girl is my partner for the next round," Billy said, smirking as he threw the ball and it landed perfectly in the red solo cup.

Eddie already planned to win, but now he wasn't leaving until he embarrassed the king of Hawkins.

~~~

"THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND!" Y/N screamed, a little tipsy. She held her arms up proud as Eddie sank the ball in the last remaining cup. Eddie smirked as Billy glared over, his girl wrapped herself around his body in a side cuddle. Eddie stood proud, his hand came down on her ass and he gripped it hard. Billy's eyes watched with anger and jealousy as he chugged the drink.

Y/N put back on Eddie's hoodie and grabbed Eddie's hand.

After the game, they finally made it inside the actual party. And to no surprise, Jason found them.

"Well hello, beautiful. How are you?" He asked, his eyes not looking away from her.

"A little tipsy. Eddie and I just creamed Hargrove at beer pong." Y/N said, she was so friendly and sweet that she didn't notice every time she brought up Eddie, these boys fought back a glare. Almost like she was always reminding them without knowing.

"Good. Someone needed to take him down a few" Jason said, and Y/N laughed. Of course, Jason felt like he was the man for making her laugh. But so what, Eddie made her laugh a hundred times a day.

Jason and Y/N talked for a few minutes, Eddie stood next to her but didn't contribute to the conversation. Just kept his eyes on Jason to make sure he didn't try anything.

"Need to run to the bathroom. Be aware of your surroundings and don't let him flirt into your mouth." Eddie said, pecking her cheek. She nodded and moved to peck his lips.

Eddie knew he had to be fast, the boys watched her like a prey. The second the alpha was gone, they prepared to attack.

~~~

Eddie went as fast as he could, washing his hands in five seconds as he raced back out. Only to not find her in the same place he left her.

It was thirty seconds, how the fuck did she move so fast?

He searched the house and made his way to the kitchen. He smiled as he watched her sit on the counter, her feet dangling as she sipped on water. He panicked and all she was doing was being a good girl and drinking water.

Eddie for the first time since they came, felt like it was just the two of them. But then Steve walked right into the perfect picture.

"Thanks for the water." She said as she chugged it down.

"Of course, someone should be watching over something as delicate as you," Steve said, his fingers reaching up to touch her chin, but Eddie's hand stopped him. He didn't say a word, just growled at Steve and shoved him.

Steve was the one guy he refused to let flirt with her for one second. Steve backed off and pouted as Eddie grabbed Y/N's hand and raced them out the door.

"Eddie? Where are we going?" She asked, her feet trying to keep up with his long strides. But Eddie didn't say a word, he opened the back of his van and crawled in. Even though he looked pissed, he was a gentleman and gently helped her up into the van.

"What's wrong?" She tried again as he slammed shut the doors. Instead of answering, he smashed his lips on hers. He easily pushed her down, her back against the soft carpet. His hands were working up and down her body at a fast pace.

They pulled apart to quickly take off their clothes, both eagerly trying to get naked as fast as they could. Y/N didn't even have time to take off her bra when Eddie was pushing her down again.

He dove between her thighs, hot tongue swirling around her clit as he shoved two fingers into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around them. Getting them soaked in her spit. She let them go with a loud pop, then he took the same fingers and shoved them into her cunt.

She whined as his mouth sucked on her clit and his fingers scissored inside of her. He was fucking her fast, and it made her head spin. She could feel him forcing an orgasm out of her. Like he wanted her to cum in seconds. She moaned, her thighs clenching around his head as her hands dug into his hair. She kept his head in place as she rocked her hips against his tongue and fingers.

But before she could cum, he removed himself. She whined after him, her hands reaching for him.

"One second, pretty girl. Just want you to soak my cock." He smirked, leaning down to peck her lips as he pushed his cock inside of her. She whimpered as his cock stretched her out even further. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he started fucking into her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. She was screaming and clawing at everything she could. He was ruthless, almost animal-like. His mouth was on hers, then her neck, chest, and every part of skin he could reach. His hands were above her head as he looked down at her. He watched her face as her body took his cock perfectly. The way her cunt would clench around him, letting him feel the pulsing inside of her. Then her eyes would squeeze shut and her mouth would drop open with screams, moans, and whimpers.

Eddie wanted the van to shake. He wanted everyone to hear her. He wanted everyone to know she was getting fucked good by her boyfriend. He hoped Billy was still playing beer pong, he hoped Jason went outside for air, and he hoped Steve followed them outside. He wished more than anything they could see his van shake and know her tight cunt was getting fucked by him and him only.

His fingers went down to her clit, and that's when she saw stars. She screamed as she covered his cock in her cum. Her wetness making a mess everywhere and probably staining the carpet below them. She could feel Eddie in her stomach, his bulge showing as it moved inside her stomach. She pressed down on it, loving the way Eddie growled.

"Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all my cum. Gonna be dripping with my cum inside of you." He growled into her ear, he panted as he felt his balls tighten. His hot cum filled her as he bit down on her shoulder. She whimpered as her cunt grew sensitive and the extra hit of his teeth created marks on her delicate skin.

He slowly pumped himself dry inside of her, gently removing himself. He prepped her face with kisses and praise. Reaching for a spare towel he kept for these occasions. He gently wiped off her cunt, trying not to dive in for seconds as her cunt pulsed and gushed.

"If you were so jealous, you could've told me." She said with a breathy laugh. She was fucked out, barely felt anything.

Eddie looked up at her. She looked down at him with a fucked out, dazed look. A lazy smile on her face.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie winked

Eddie- a full threat to Billy, Jason and Steve

[pedrisbanana]

pedri and joao threesome pls 🙏🏻💕 absolutely love everything u write

Their cum as lipgloss >...

Enjoy 🍌

Twice The Fun

You were squealing like a little school girl, when you opened your package. After removing the wrapping paper, the royal blue fabric greeted you. The polyester was soft between your fingers, when you took the shirt from the box. 

You smiled.

Another piece for your collection. Immediately after seeing the transfer announcement on his instagram, you went to the FC Chelsea website and placed your order. 

Scrunching your nose at the chemical smell, you cut the labels and put it in the washing machine. 20 Minutes and it will smell fresh as ever.

His jerseys held a special place in your closet, right behind your dresses and blouses. All of them neatly hung up on black coat hangers, sorted by club and season. You started collecting them long before meeting Pedri, who wasn't exactly fond of your little obsession with Chelsea's new striker starlet.

So when you sat on the couch two days later, watching Chelsea's Champions League match and Pedri came home from practice, he gave you a cold stare instead of the usual kiss. All because of that damn name on the back of the jersey.

"So you're a Chelsea fan now ?" Your boyfriend asked mockingly, sitting down next to you. 

You smirked. "Only until the end of the season, then I can watch him beat your ass in LaLiga again" 

"I should bend you over and give your ass a little beating for talking to me like that" Pedri replied, obviously pissed off.

"I really don't get why you're so jealous. I'm just a fan" you poked his chest playfully. 

"I'm not jealous! João Felix is a fucking arrogant asshole, who thinks he's the next Ronaldo just bc he scored a few goals. You shouldn't sit here, wearing his jersey." Pedri crossed his arms.

You decided to push his buttons a little more. "and yet he's there playing Champions League and you sit here, exhausted from extra training, because you disqualified from Europa League"

The midfielder rolled his eyes. "If he's so great then why aren't you there with him ? I bet you'd let him fuck you after the match, the way you're jumping up and down just because he hit the crossbar. Any 4th grader would've scored that." 

"If you had asked me in 2019 I'd tell you yes. I thought his braces were really hot" you admitted, focus back on the TV. 

Pedri laughed. "His braces ?" You joined in, glad he lightened his mood.

"What can I say I am obsessed" 

He looked at you, raising a brow. "So you're telling me you didn't think about it recently"

"If I say I did, will you get a pissed again ?" you nudged his shoulder.

You leaned close to his ear, not waiting for a reply. "Because I did, but don't worry, only when Barcelona played against Atletico. Twice the fun, right ?" 

-

Teasing Pedri with João wasn't your best choice. You boyfriend had been acting annoyed all week and ignored your affectionate tries to lighten him up. You decided to surprise and apologize to him. 

Pedri had a new campaign photoshoot with Adidas today, meaning he would probably come home late. 

You dimmed the light in your shared bedroom and lit a few tea lights to set the mood. Pedri loved it when you wore lingerie and you had just found the right set on your shopping trip today. It came with a matching robe which wouldn't make you feel too naked. The color was a soft red, powdery and not to bright, complimenting your skin tone.

The thought of Pedri's lips teasing your skin as he slowly took the lace of your body made you shiver in delight. He wouldn't be able to resist you.

Putting on some light makeup, you heard the lock turning. You quickly applied some last layers of mascara and went to the hallway. 

You jumped into your boyfriends arms, pulling him into a heated kiss. His hands caught your waist under the robe caressing your hips. Your fingers caressed his cheek as you broke the kiss, staring into his deep brown eyes. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you. I'm more obsessed with you than with João." you said, hoping he'd accept it. 

"Didn't sound like that when Pedri told me about it." a voice with familiar accent stated. You know that voice.

You let go of your boyfriend to see if your guess was right, but it couldn't be. You must be hallucinating. 

João Félix was standing in your hallway. He wore a beige oversized t-shirt with the logo of some designer brand and light ripped jeans. You looked back and forth between the Portuguese and Pedri. 

So many questions ran through your mind. 

"I wanted to apologize for being an asshole and Félix and I did the photoshoot together so I invited him to meet you since you love him so much." Pedri explained, pushing you a little towards João. 

"I- ummm. Hey." the blush that decorated your face and neck must make you look like a beet.

"Hey." João smiled at you and checked out your outfit. Realizing you were still only wearing the rather revealing set of underwear, you wrapped the robe around yourself. 

"I'll umm go change." The presence of João made you forget how to think properly.

"No need to. Red is my favourite color, but I'm sure you know that." João said teasingly, a smirk curling on his lips. His hand caught your arm, holding you from leaving.

You stopped in your tracks and you were sure you forgot how to breathe for a second. Did he just flirt with you ? 

His grip on your arm was firm but soft. It made your whole body shiver. You turned your head to see Pedri's reaction. He must be fuming. 

To your surprise you're easily provoked sweetheart was watching the scenery without a hint of anger or annoyance. 

"You do look irresistible. What a nice surprise-" Pedri looked at João and winked. "- for both of us." 

You shot a confused look towards Pedri, about to ask what he was up to when he walked towards you. Trapped between the two footballers, you swallowed. 

"Isn't this what you dreamed about, princesa ? Twice the fun. Remember ?" His voice went straight to your core, soaking your panties. 

Of course you remembered. The thought of both Pedri and João touching you helped you fall asleep many nights, but that was it. Just a fantasy. 

João moved his hand to undo your robe. He slightly towered over you due to his height, lips almost touching your temple. You leaned into him, inviting him to go further. 

Pedri slipped his hand inside your panties. The pads of his fingers finding you wet and needy. 

If you thought about what was happening right now, you'd probably laugh, but you couldn't rationally think right now. João's and Pedri's hands on your body was all you could think about. 

João discarded your robe and opened your bra with a flick of his fingers. 

"You're so pretty." he whispered. His voice was drowned in arousal. 

You wanted to speak up, but he cupped your breasts and massaged them, which had you moaning instead. Your boyfriend started to kiss your neck. 

Somewhere between João teasing your now hardened nipples and Pedri having two fingers pumping in and out of you, the three of you ended up in the bedroom. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed and watched as João took his shirt off. His skin was tan and his muscles defined. He sat next to you on the duvet and Pedri encouraged you to be more confident. 

João caressed your hair as you opened the fly of his jeans. His long fingers combed through the strands and he leaned back a little. His dark brown eyes watched you intensely. Your hand reached inside his boxers. 

He was hard and warm in your hand. The other found leverage on his knee. João let out a breathy moan when you started to move your hand up and down, spreading the precum leaking at the tip. His hand wrapped around yours to tighten your grip around him, teaching you how he'd like it. 

You moved your sitting position to kneel beside him on the bed. The wetness between your thighs felt sticky and you rotated your hips slightly to create some friction. 

"Put me inside your mouth, amor." The striker whispered, hand wrapped around the back of your neck. 

Strong hands pulled at your hips as you leaned down. Pedri's hand sneaked inside your panties again, finding your pulsing clit. 

You let spit run over João's tip, covering his shaft, before taking him. Teasing the head by tracing the small furrow on the underside with your tongue made him call out your name. You clenched your thighs. 

Your boyfriend pulled your legs apart with one hand, keeping them apart with one knee. Pedri kneeled behind you. His hips flush with your ass. He must've taken his pants off, because you felt his hot skin on yours.

João's other hand started to play with your hair again as he watched you take more of his cock. 

"That's perfect, take all of me." he praised you, slightly pushing your head down by the neck. He added just enough pressure to make you press yourself against Pedri's erection. The midfilder let go of your hip to play with one of your nipples. Pulling and twisting it, making it harder not to grind against him. 

Removing your hand from João's shaft, you grasped his shoulder. The hand on his knee moved to play with his balls. They were full and heavy and João thrust his hips up, making you gag. 

Tears formed in your eyes from the burning sensation in your throat. João found a fast pace with his hips, hitting the back off your throat repeatedly. You were on the edge with Pedri rubbing your sensitive spot. 

You came with tears and spit running from your face, still swallowing João's cock. 

Pedri pulled you up and João wiped your tears with his thumbs. Pedri held you to him and kissed your flushed cheek. 

"That was so hot, princesa. Can't wait to be inside of you." he said, lips warm against your face. 

João's warmth disappeared as he got up to take his pants off, but you stopped him. Reaching forward you pulled his jeans and briefs now all the way down. 

His thighs looked strong as he walked towards you. He turned to Pedri, asking him something in Portuguese which you didn't understand. Pedri laughed and nodded, replying. 

João went over to one of your drawers but before you could see what he did, Pedri pulled you into a kiss. His tongue massaged yours and his hand intertwined with yours. You reached under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his six pack. 

The midfielder broke the kiss to take his shirt off, only his boxers covering him now. You wanted to please him. He shouldn't have to watch you have fun with João, even though Pedri had encouraged all of this. 

"Lay down." he whispered and grabbed some pillows from the headboard. 

As you were getting comfortable, Pedri positioned one pillow beneath your head and one beneath your ass. His hands explored your body doing so, touches lingering longer than needed. It got you excited all over again. 

The bed dipped beside you as Joao came back. His hands travelled from your knees to the dip of your waist, spreading them in the motion. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them off you. His hand immediately cupped your exposed pussy and you bucked into him. 

He watched you squirm, lips slightly parted and moved to lay beside you. His lips left butterfly kisses on your shoulder, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Two of his long fingers entered you, making you arch into the pillows. 

After discarding his briefs, Pedri appeared on your other side. He whispered declarations of love into your neck. You felt something cold on your wet folds and hissed. João pulled his fingers out, spreading the cold liquid over your sensitive pussy, before moving them back inside. 

At least you thought so, but his digits only teased your entrance before guiding them lower. His middle finger teased the little ring of muscles, making you shriek in shock. He stopped.

Pedri caressed your cheek and pressed his forehead against yours. 

"I'll be careful. You'll like it if you relax." João mumbled against your shoulder. 

Your boyfriend moved his hands down your lower stomach to find you're prepared and dripping. He easily slid his fingers inside. 

"I'm here, mi vida. I've got you." Pedri said, curling his fingers. You cuddled into him. "We've got you." 

Pedri made you feel safe. 

João moved slightly atop of you. His free hand exploring your chest and his lips followed. When he teased your nipple with his tongue, he continued to massage your back entrance. 

This time you relaxed, enjoying the new sensations. The tip of his finger slipped inside as Pedri found your sweet spot inside of you. 

You felt your orgasm building up and Joao pressed further inside. He slowly started to move in and out, reaching hidden spots. 

The name on your lips was now his. He chuckled against your breast. "I told you you'll like it." 

Pedri circled your clit, wanting you to reach your peak. He had you clenching uncontrollably around him in seconds. João took the opportunity to slip a second finger inside of you. You barely even noticed it, being focused on the electricity making your body spasm. He bit down on your nipple. 

Now focusing on your other breast, he increased the pace of his fingers and Pedri, too, continued the play of his fingers. 

"Hermosa, you're a sight." Pedri moaned against your lips. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed. He looked so sexy when he was aroused, you almost started drooling.

João looked up at you from your chest, releasing your abused bud with a pop. "I think you're ready to take my cock now, amor." 

He cocked his eyebrow and smirked. Removing his fingers, he crawled next to you. Pedri guided you to lay on your side, facing him. Your boyfriend handed João the lube again. 

Your heart thumbed in your chest. You had never experienced this much pleasure. Pedri hooked your leg over his waist, pulling you closer. 

Finally you could feel his cock against you. You were impossibly wet, his tip immediately slipping inside, being pressed flush. 

Pedri fucked you in a static pace, enough to make you moan, but not enough to make you come. His face pressed into your chest, hands spreading your cheeks for João.

You clawed at Pedri's back, surely leaving bruises. Arching your back into him, he increased the speed of his hips. You barely even noticed João entering your backside. He felt big, too big to make this pleasurable, but these two had proved you wrong before. 

Guiding his cock further, he moaned your name into your neck. His hands held your hips in a vice grip. He filled you out completely, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. 

Your hand found his and he slightly intertwined your fingers, resting them on your hip. 

"You're doing so well, amor. Taking two cocks at the same time." João kissed your shoulder. 

You couldn't quite register what he said, your thoughts and feelings overwhelmed by the intense pleasure. Your face felt sticky as you pressed it into the pillow. You didn't know if it was from the tears or the sweat. 

Pedri groaned into your chest as João started to move. They must feel each other pleasuring you. After a few thrusts the two synchronized each other. The sounds coming from your mouth were pure and raw desire. 

"This feels so good, makes me think we should invite him more often. What do you think, cariño ?" Pedri toyed with your nipple between his teeth, making you nod and scream out in pleasure. He never had a better idea.

João grinned against your neck and moved your joined hands to your middle. He let go of your fingers, but you trapped his hand in a vice grip. His fingers found your clit, drawing figure eights. 

The third orgasm of the night crashed over you in waves. It felt even better than the first two. 

Expecting the boys to come inside of you, you tried to move your hips, riding out your orgasm. 

They had other plans, as João carefully pulled out and detached himself from his hugging position against you. Pedri followed and slid up to the headboard. 

His crotch was now at level with your face, cock glistening with your juices. You felt João's hands guide you on all fours above Pedri, repositioning the pillow under your pelvis. 

João slipped inside your pussy with ease, filling you to the brim. You clenched around him greedily accepting his hard thrusts. His balls slapped against your throbbing clit. 

Pedri jerked his cock, guiding your head onto him by holding your hair in his hand at the back of your skull. Taking him fully, he moved the hand from his manhood to rest comfortably on the pillows behind his neck. 

Before you got to enjoy to blow your boyfriend, João released himself inside you. He pulled out, spilling some of his cum on your pussy and ass. 

This didn't bother you enough to stop sucking Pedri off. His cock was familiar between your lips and you knew exactly how to move to get him to lose control. 

João didn't let go of your hips. His fingers spread his cum over your core and found your clit again. The striker soon had you coming for a fourth time. 

The vibrating moans at the back of your throat, brought Pedri over the edge. He thrust his hips into your mouth until he was spent. His cum tasted salty, but nice. You liked swallowing him. 

Climbing off him, you laid on your back exhausted. Pedri turned to pull you into him. João left into the small attached bathroom. 

After getting a washcloth he kneeled between your thighs, softly cleaning you up. 

"If Pedri doesn't mind, I'd like to hear more about your little obsession with me, amor."

A/N: Finally I built up the confidence to post this!

Special love and thanks go to @pedrisgatorade & @simpingmyassoff who were so kind to read this over! You're the best!

I really hope you enjoy this and leave me a comment 💕🫣

Love you❤️

[gepardling]

what about a shy!reader confessing to gepard and him being so surprised he’s at a lost for words

unspoken heart w/ gepard.

desc. : dis is 1 day overdue bc i was 2 busy playing league w/ friends :(( aphelios has my whole heart... but here it is <3 i erm hope i did dis 1 some justice, my mind ran away w/ me when i started writing o.o i feel like every1 has their own perception of shyness, and as some1 who considers themselves pretty shy in a romantic aspect, i had 2 lay it bare... ( wc : 1.3k )

tags / cw : sfw, just fluff, gn!reader, reader is a shopkeeper, not proofread

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards wasn't one for frivolous pursuits. That being said, they never seemed to come his way either. It was a double-edged sword – And yes, it did hurt. To put it simply, Gepard wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Yet, as long as he never expressed genuine interest in a person (vice versa), he wouldn't budge.

There was, of course, one individual in particular who had grasped the attention of the Captain. It was nothing major, really, just another shopkeeper around Belobog. At most, he found himself stealing glances at you every now and again when he passed by your shop, whether on patrol or off duty. But staying 100% "cool" was something you couldn't quite manage.

The first few times it happened, you thought you were under investigation for tax evasion or something equally crazy. The moment you caught his eye, he would turn away and continue walking, and it was weird. Yeah, he was pretty weird. But he was also just... pretty. It was kind of embarrassing to think how easily you had fallen for the quiet silvermane guard. Each time those intrusive thoughts wandered into your mind, you had to savagely fight off the crimson blush that crept up your neck.

It only made matters worse when he started visiting your shop, actually entering and purchasing an item. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the little bell by the door chimed, revealing the looming silhouette of Captain Gepard himself. His aura was intimidating up close, his steeled gaze seemingly piercing straight through you. It made a lump rise to your throat each time you had to greet him...

Normally, you'd never have a problem working with customers. You would greet them, help them with their orders, take their payment, and thank them. You didn't really need to have any social skills for that; it was just standard workplace protocol. But for some reason, Gepard made it increasingly difficult for you to just be natural at work. You would stutter when you greeted him, almost drop the Shield he gave you as payment, and hide behind the counter for a quick moment to compose yourself every time he left.

It was frustrating, almost infuriating, how your emotions got the better of you whenever he was around. In fact, one day you were beyond embarrassed when he actually tried to have a conversation with you. It didn't help that midway through, he asked if you were feeling unwell because of how red your face was becoming, even encouraging you to go home and get well soon. He was none the wiser about your true feelings, of course, which made you feel both relieved and anxious.

Over time, you came to realize that you must be attracted to him, which didn't do your mental state any good. It completely shattered your resolve each time you saw him from that point onwards. Your hands would shake ever so slightly, and you could barely conceal the tremble in your voice whenever you spoke to him. Though you appreciated the lingering conversations that grew longer with time. It was safe to say that you had grown accustomed to seeing the Captain’s face every day.

Yet, while you were comfortable with the way things are now, people tend to stagnate if they keep doing the same things all the time. The worry that Gepard would grow distant again before you even had the guts to tell him how you felt gnawed at your heart, and the whole situation made you feel anxious, to say the least. The feeling only worsened when he started visiting less and less, and the confidence you'd somehow managed to build up in your comfort zone dissipated before you. 

The rollercoaster of emotions had you feeling a little silly about your seemingly one-sided infatuation with him, and your own reluctance to confront him with your feelings merely heightened your awkwardness. The harder you fell, the more absentminded you seemed to become as a coping mechanism for the crippling shyness that threatened to envelop your being. But your own absentmindedness was about to bite you on the arse the very next time you met with Gepard at the shopfront. 

While you were ringing up his goods, Gepard started a light conversation. It was nothing serious, just some basic how-are-you banter between acquaintances. He told you a bit about the situation on the frontlines and how busy it had gotten lately with a spike in fragmentum activity.

"You know," your voice trailed off, gaze fixated on the Shield you were counting in your palm. "You should take care of yourself out there, I miss seeing you here." As soon as the words left your mouth, you froze up entirely. The heat in your cheeks rose exponentially fast once you realized Gepard’s own wide-eyed expression. Overwhelmed by the accidental confession that slipped past your lips, you found yourself stumbling over your words, desperately trying to salvage the situation. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, a torrent of thoughts racing through your mind. 

How could you have been so careless? The fear of rejection loomed over you, and you wished for nothing more than to disappear into thin air. Gepard's stunned expression mirrored your own internal turmoil. His usually composed demeanor faltered for a moment as he searched for a response. The silence hung heavy in the air, and the weight of your confession seemed to press down upon you, suffocating any semblance of composure you had left.

As you fumbled to correct yourself, the words tumbled out in a jumble of awkward phrases and incoherent ramblings. Your mind raced, desperately trying to find an escape from the overwhelming embarrassment that had engulfed you. But there was no way to take back what had been said, no way to erase the vulnerability you had just laid bare. Gepard's silence wasn't doing you any good either, and you were just about to excuse yourself before you melted into a puddle on the ground.

Gepard's eyes softened, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His hand reached out, lightly brushing against yours as he accepted the change you had hastily pushed into his palm. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, momentarily distracting you from your own embarrassment.

"It's alright," he said, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "I appreciate your concern, and I've missed seeing you too." His words were laced with a tenderness that sent your heart aflutter, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos of the moment. You stood behind the counter, heart still racing as you attempted to come to terms with what just happened. You blinked several times, but Gepard remained standing in front of you, confirming that he was in fact not a hallucination.

"I- uhm… I mean- No, err… Thank you for supporting us!" you rambled on, "Our shop, I mean, not us like, people, that would be silly…" All the while your eyes desperately searched the room. Your nervous laughter chimed through the shop, and by this point you've caught quite a few people's attention. Gepard's chuckle joined yours, and the tension in the air slowly dissipated. His easy smile and the twinkle in his eyes reassured you that the momentary awkwardness was nothing more than a shared experience, a humorous twist.

"Don't worry, I understand what you meant," he said, his voice warm and gentle. "And I appreciate your gratitude." His gaze swept across the shop, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you, realizing that your accidental confession had not gone unnoticed by the other patrons. 

Blushing furiously, you offered a sheepish smile to those around you, feeling their curious gazes upon you. This truly was a spectacle to behold, and you were sure to answer some questions regarding your behavior later. Suffice to say, this sudden turn of events was enough to leave you red faced for days on end…

[beatcroc]

turns out i have to make an unnecessarily wordy thoughtspost about doombox too bc there is nothing about this character that isn't fucking ridiculous and also really funny and i'm kind of really obsessed with all of it. ordinarily i would just start firing but in this case I need to just. paste his bio and then go through it step by step because every phrase here is absurd when looking at how he's handled along with the other characters and the world as a whole. here we go

first sidenote: i should also add 'nonsensical' to the list of descriptors up there, because this is a fighting game and no doubt has the typical Bad Fighting Game Writing at play that doesn't really hold up when put under scrutiny as i'm about to, but understand that this is something i've come to love about the genre and its typically batshit lore, and it further enhances the experience for me. it's all utter nonsense and its my favorite shit ever.

the biggest thing to me that makes his entire shtick ridiculous is that he was explicitly made to be a weapon. like his express purpose is destruction and/or killing people, and he certainly has the disposition to be doing that. except that he is not doing that. he's out there playing Ball Game, evidently of his own volition.

i feel it is also important to highlight that he was not originally or intentionally a boombox; he just kinda lives in there. his own bio frames it as happenstance, but sonata's dlc skin lore** implies he isn't permanently stuck in there and can kinda just hop out and take control of whatever he wants whenever he wants. there is an entire goddamn tank just sitting there in the background of one of these stages. he is a weapon. there is heavy artillery readily available to him that he could be commanding if he wanted to, but he's not doing that either. he is still a boombox. i think he likes it in there. *there's an argument to be made that maybe he's not powerful enough to control something that large, or maybe just that switching hosts is really tiring or risky. im just saying though there's like a bajillion host devices better suited for A Fucking Weapon than a boombox, but he seems really committed to this for some reason. while im here btw it's fucking terrifying that he apparently can possess thing that are Not tech as well **as a side note from that the specific mention of her boomhammer is interesting. i don't think it's an intentional implication but i enjoy the idea he has an affinity for sound-based devices; i like to think the boombox left an impression on him with its being the initial thing he possessed and got used to

and then there is the berserking. the 'rampaging', as it is otherwise called. not exactly strange on its own given his temperament and designation, but strange for the way it's characterized as only a tendency. it's only that he's prone to rampaging. he rampages often, but not all the time. just often! what is he doing he is not rampaging? getting a custom trimmed jacket with his own logo emblazoned on it? like a nerd? and on the flipside, what exactly do these rampages even entail? because it's apparently not anything destructive or disruptive enough for anyone to care about stopping him under normal circumstances.

like how are you a giant angry "not exactly stable" weapon of a guy and everyone's like 'yeah that's fine. that's our doombox!' toxic's specific wording regarding his getting unfucked postgame is "back to his old raging self", which implies to me there's almost a certain fondness, or at least amusement, at his being like this. i know one of the core themes of lethal league is letting these oddball misfit dudes do their thing and freely be who they are, but like. is doombox sincerely just not a threat for that? like really? dice's interactions also sort of imply that his actually trying to kill someone is really out of the ordinary for him so truly like. db my man what ARE you doing out there. * re: toxic and dice's talking about him; i do also find it amusing that one of his defining traits is just being pissed off all the time. again, not surprising given his purpose/designation as a weapon, but funny in that it's like. how he's KNOWN; in the sense that it is immediately noticeable and a cause for concern for other characters to see he is Not angry. fuckin social barometer of a guy. local angry guy isn't angry, something's wrong.

the "reasons for playing in the league unknown" bit also strikes me as a little odd even though it REALLY shouldn't. i'm like 97% sure it's just written like that to make him seems mysterious and unpredictable and dangerous, but it's a weird thing to call attention to when you consider that...less than half of the other characters' reasons are known? raptor is there trying to get info on his dad, that one's well out there. dust & ashes i think have some kind of implied reason for being there as well but it of course isn't elaborated on, and grid is like trying to impress "the youth" and establish a profile or something. nitro seems like he might not actually be IN the league as an official competitor? it's just helpful for him to know how to ball for the situations he gets into with his investigations. everybody else's "reason" pretty much seems like they're just out there to have fun. and toxic says as much in the story mode intro! the game was developed for people to escape the monotonies of shine city! so to imply doombox has a separate, non-recreational reason for being here is weird. the easiest read on it for me is just that he was drawn to it cause it's intense and destructive but at the same time.... if all he wants is an excuse to wreck shit....why are you competing in a structured sports game with rules and shit my dude. you are a weapon. just go attack people. except that we've established that he doesnt really do that. so. once again. what IS he doing out here

----

aside from the bio though, there's of course random little tidbits of characterization throughout the game itself and they are all also likewise ridiculous.

he refers to himself in third person, which is always an amusing choice for a character in general. it carries with it a certain sense of ego, an awareness of and and pride in one's presence and gravitas. this was mostly just surprising to me bc before i started looking at everything, i'd assumed he was more or less mindless and, yknow, robotic; without much personality/reason for being there beyond being the Biggest Baddest Best At Ball Game Guy doombox is already very imposing, so this is frankly a well-earned sense of pride for him to have.....but it still doubles back to being funny again because, as i've established above, he could stand to be a hell of a lot scarier! but he doesn't seem to notice or care that there are many readily-available options for becoming more powerful and/or establishing himself as unquestionable top dog. so instead he is a boombox. third-person is also often used for characters who are a little dumb, and i think this applies to doombox as well. he is a weapon, and clearly a brute-force-over-precision type of weapon at that, he doesnt need smarts. i think this is also sort of hinted at with his voice lines; where the other characters have some kind of snarky phrase or one-liner for their kill/score voice line, doombox just goes "bye-bye". Which is still appropriately Disrespectful, but it's also very, uh... simple. again i just think there are... more imposing things a guy like him could be saying there, but i guess he hasn't got anything more than fucking. bye-bye.

anyways the ego thing i think is well-echoed by his stupid fucking jacket. none of the other characters have their logo as part of their design and i'm pretty sure the rest of the symbols are just game abstractions and don't exist in-universe, but like. doombox is just going around wearing a jersey with his own damn face on it. ok. to be clear i love his jacket but it is literally so silly for him to have that. imagine being the guy having to custom-fit a fucking boombox. did db pay for it? how? we're getting into unproductive territory here but you could ask a million questions about that jacket and they all have hysterical implications. while im on the topic of designs i'd also like to say that while i don't count any of the other blaze redesigns as "canon" like actual events the characters went through between games [like raptor in particular would have already had to have the stitches since that's his backstory, it's just they weren't a design point before], doombox is in a weird spot since the first game's design for him was very specifically referencing its HUD in a meta way for his flavor and that was pretty much the entire extent of his flavor; while in blaze he and the HUD are very much separate distinct things with their own flavor. there's more to talk about here later but as it pertains to design what im saying is i think he just went out and found a better and cooler boombox to be in between games. and also got a funny jacket. *actually i have no idea if there's even a Timeline here. the gut vibe i had been running on was that blaze happens a couple years after the original, but looking at it now that doesn't seem right. does blaze Replace the timeline of the first game? are there even Events in the first game to count as a timeline? do they run concurrently?

alright anyway the last point here is the 3rd-person thing is even moreso interesting to me though bc i was under the assumption that 'doombox' was something akin to a codename he was given when other people saw this big fucking Thang rampaging through the streets. but seeing as 1. he's definitely aware of it, and 2. not even the damn scientists who made him knew he was in a boombox [as implied in his dlc skin lore], i'm led to believe he came up with the name himself. the fucking tape in his cassette player does just say 'doom' on it so i am choosing to believe that's either where he got the name, or that he put that on there himself.

MOVING on, another really good thing is that he does this

i just think it's funny he's continuing to use the thing as an actual boombox; i feel like that isn't something he necessarily Has to do. obviously he's susceptible to certain quirks and limitations of being a boombox re: mind control tape, but i don't think that means he has to play out its every function. i think he's doing that on purpose and i am filing it under "he likes it in there". hes listening to his jams.

also on a similar note,

this is also not important and i realize it's mostly just a quirky videogamey way to get around saying the robot kinda character is "asleep", but i do enjoy the implication that shine city's biggest terror is like out there running on 4 D-cells.

also i'm making this guy out to be a city street menace, and the vibe i had assumed for him before was like, a random encounter in the back alleys that you super do not want to run into; but his associated stage/hangout seems to be the desert/scrapyard? which i don't really have anything interesting to say to that, but it's definitely a different vibe for his character if he typically hangs out in more desolate areas.

---

i think maybe the most baffling thing doombox has going on is the apparent "rivalry" with dice. this is also bizzare from dice's side of things. what the fuck does it even mean to be "rivals" with doombox? what are they competing for? what kind of things does dice get up to that doombox would even give a shit about in the first place, let alone to be considered a rival in? i mean, like, the league, probably, but why dice specifically, out of everyone? would doombox's league rival not just be whoever's the [second] strongest there? i believe dice when he says they're evenly-matched, but there isn't really anything that implies dice is of particularly high prestige within the league so it feels like he shouldn't hold much interest as a target. to be fair dice doesn't seem like the type that would care about prestige, but again, if he's not out there flaunting his shit or trying to claim he's the best or whatever, why does db care? this would be a lot easier to understand if it was a one-sided thing on doombox's part like okay maybe dice pissed him off one day and he's still mad about it. whatever. that's the vibe they go for in story mode, but then there's dice's dlc skin description, which seems to run entirely counter to that and has dice as the aggressor:

when deprived of his usual sense and restraint, dice's first thought is I Gotta Go Fuckin Kill Doombox? even if he's over it under normal circumstances, it's clear both of them have some deeper-rooted beef in this exchange. there is yet another layer to this in that doombox is, weirdly enough, not really shown to be the kind of guy that's interested in revenge. again, going back to his own dlc description, he- and i quote- "couldn't care less" about the guys who made him capturing him and chaining him up. his only interest there is breaking out and getting back to doing his thing. if you want to be really generous, you could also read this vibe from the story mode epilogue: doombox was not the one hunting down the safety league, that was nitro. doombox was simply, as stated before "back to his old raging self". both of these to say, he simply does not seem to give a shit about people who have directly wronged him and only wants to Do His Thing. so. once again. what the fuck is going on with dice that they both have lasting beef here. i truly cannot fathom what either of them did to be so mad specifically at eachother. this rivalry is something they reference a LOT too like it's a big deal in-universe, or something otherwise really important to portray. like

lore so strong you gotta put it on an achievement!!!!! really!!!!! and there are no details whatsoever about this????? * while i'm here i'd just like to say have more questions about dice than fucking anything else in this game. sadly there's practically nothing to intuit from the game about any of his situations so i don't have much for coherent thoughts to post on him, but my god. what the fuck, dice. this rivalry is arguably the single strangest thing doombox has going on but it doesn't even break top 5 weird things about dice.

anyways, the final section and MOST interesting thing to me in all this is that, coming out of the first game, i was really under the impression that doombox is just the arbitrary final boss monster you gotta kill; no real purpose or personality his own to speak of, and most importantly just synonymous with the game itself and its aesthetics re: mirroring the HUD design. he certainly still holds the role of big scary final boss monster in blaze too, but blaze 1. has him much more fleshed-out as his own Guy, and more importantly, 2. doesn't really consider him a Problem like your typical big angry final boss monster. or at least not moreso than anything else going on in the game. he's not a threat to be eliminated, he's respected as a character and as a competitor in the league; and more than that he just seems to be... liked? as in, liked by other people in-universe? and he's liked enough that they'll readily help him out so he can keep doing his thing? i do think latch fixed him up postgame mostly bc he felt bad about being the one responsible for getting db brainwashed in the first place but like. the game could have just as easily gone "and then doombox was defeated yay" and left it at that. instead, they seem to have a vested interest in keeping him around. most transparently this is likely just a "we can't get rid of any of the playable characters or else story mode would be noncanon", BUT the point of this post is trying to read cohesive narrative sense into places there probably isn't any, and my read here is that doombox is a sort of inadvertent guardian of the league. for 1, he does still very much embody a lot of what the game [both The Videogame and the league itself] is about, but more importantly i think his presence is just really good at keeping a lot of the more minor threats at bay. if you try to fuck with the league, you will eventually be squaring off with doombox, most likely having freshly pissed him off in the process, and i can't imagine that goes well for who or whatever is in that situation. there's probably not much that wants to stand up to him by himself, and there's even less that can challenge the league as a whole unit; he's really just a good guy to have on your side like in general when you are running an illegal sports operation. i think at Worst toxic might see him as the league's funny little mascot but realistically i think she has more respect for him than that. either way i don't think he's going to care and it doesn't affect him much regardless. for this, doombox simply gets to keep doing his thing, whatever the fuck that may be. there are certainly still forces beyond his control at play here [as demonstrated in story mode by the safety league], and when these come into play, the league in turn looks out for him and keeps him on top of his game. i'm not sure if he has the, uh.... kind of cognitive ability that he could be grateful for this, but if nothing else, we know he seems to enjoy playing in the league, so he probably at least recognizes that he's not going to meet a lot of resistance in it and/or that it's a good environment to keep doing as he pleases. i don't mean for this all to sound so transactional, but it's hard to say whether he has much charisma in-universe for people to want him around for more "legitimate" reasons. likewise, there's also still a lot up in the air on how like... sapient doombox actually is. whether he can have complex motivations about anything or if he has some concept of "having friends" or if he can experience emotions besides rage; i tend to lean to "no" on those because i am really trying my damndest not to woobify this guy, but ultimately i don't think it matters much; in the end, he and the league are still mutually beneficial for eachother, and they still enjoy having the other around. and i think that's pretty cool :)

[mha-princess]

Canon Dabi x insecure reader where she’s insecure about her body since she’s not thin. She voices it to him after seeing a pretty and smaller girl flirt with him, and he shows her how much he cares for her? NSFW pls! Thank u!

stop your whining [dabi x fem!reader]

A/N: I didn’t proof this so bc I really wanted to post today also I’ll be posting my 1k event soon! - Anako ✿

Genre: canon-verse, smut, drabble

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning: unprotected sex, breeding, degradation

You continue to twirl on the bar stool, your attention long adverted from the chatter dispersed around you. It wasn’t an uncommon for you to tune out of the league’s conversations, especially when the topic was new recruits. New female recruits. To be honest you didn’t think new recruits within the group was necessary, but then again it wasn’t your call. You rolled your eyes at the thought and let yourself tune into the girl riding Shigaraki’s dick, desperate to receive a compliment.

“I really admire your ideologies. I’m willing to follow through with any task given. Any task given.” She enunciates, taking a step closer towards both Dabi and Shigaraki. Her small stature made her seem sweet, cute even, but her eyes had mischievous intent. The two men glance at eachother exchanging an understanding look before, looking back to the girl.

“Thank you for your interest. We look forward to your loyalty. Kurogiri be a gent and show her out.” Shigaraki, responds.

The girl grins as if she just had an interview and was sure she got the job. As Kurogiri shows her out you watch her sway her hips, the skirt she’s wearing a little less than admiring. After Kurogiri is out of sight you sigh in relief.

“Thank god that’s over. Fucking groupies, this is getting old.” You sigh raising from the bar stool.

“Her quirk will be of use to us.” Dabi shrugs.

“Shapeshifting? Tch, isn’t that what we have Toga for?”

“You think I’d drink animal blood?! Gross Y/N!” The blonde exclaims, partially offended.

“Wouldn’t put it past you babe.” You shrug, “I’d rather you be able to do both that way we don’t have some groupie in the league.”

“Why so judegmental now Y/N? Aren’t you all about giving people chances and bullshit like that?” Dabi snarks, shoving his handing into his pockets.

“Not skanks,” you reply, “Well, maybe she didn’t come off as a skank to you seeing as you were pretty friendly.”

“Jealousy is fucking ugly on you.” Shigaraki rasps, opting to leave the room with the others rather than hear you bicker with the black haired male.

“Jealous? The hell is there to be jealous about?!” You shout, the leader sending you the finger before leaving.

“Shigaraki’s right.” Dabi agrees, beginning to stroll away to his room, “It’s also a huge turn off.”

“Turn off ? It’s not like I ever turned you on. You’d rather the skimpy skinny bitch, right? She seems more your type.” Dabi stops to turn around to face you.

The expression on his face was unreadable but the aura he was emitting was deadly. He then inches toward you causing you to take little steps back.

“Y/N.” Is all he says and you stop right where you are. As he closes the space between you he grabs your arm, the force of his fingertips crushing into your muscle.

“The room. Now.” He grits, shoving you in front of him.

“Don’t fucking shove me. Better yet keep your hands off of me. ” You mumbled, making your way down the hall.

When you enter the room Dabi slams the door behind you.

“So fucking unnecessary,” you voice, back turned to him.

“No, your fucking unnecessary. And fucking look at me when I’m talking to you.” He demands gripping your shoulder and flipping you around.

“Didn’t I say to keep you damn hands off of me?!” You hiss, pushing his hands off of you. Dabi, refutes by taking a death hold on your waist, pushing you into the foot of the bed. His hands grip tighter and eventually your sides begin to run hot, the smell of singed clothing flooding the air.

He draws closer to your face, he gets so close you can feel his breath ghost over your lips, “Now listen you fucking brat, I don’t know what your problem is but you better fix that shit real fast. I don’t like to play with bratty bitches.”

“Your the bratty bitch,” you bark. Dabi’s lips draw together before he pushes you over the footboard and onto the bed. He then climbs inbetween your legs and loops his fingers around what’s left of your belt loops.

“You can either tell me what your problem is now or you can wait until my cock is rupturing your fucking cervix. ” he offers, pulling your pants off along with your underwear.

“Do your worst, bitch.” You spit.

Now I know it seems like that was a badass move, but it was a bad decision to say the least. Dabi was never a gentle lover and now that you’ve pissed him off, he definitely wasn’t going to take and precautions. You were being a bitch and if the only way to fix that is fucking you, then so be it.

Without any care he yanks you up and takes off the remainder of your clothing. Your lips purse into a thin line, the feisty part in you wanting to say something, but with the mood you had put him in you knew better. In one motion your back hits the mattress once more.

The male on top of you doesn’t even bother stripping from his clothing. You watch as he undoes his zipper and shimmies his pants below his hips. He sucks air into his mouth before pushing it out causing spit to fly onto your slit as well as his cock.

He then grabs the back of your knees, his fingertips still hot from the incident earlier, and throws them onto his shoulders.

“Don’t open your mouth until your ready to tell me what the hell is wrong with you,” and with that remark he plunges the whole of his cock into your pussy. You let out a shaky gasp which is quickly met by a hand around your throat.

“Not a fucking peep.” The male urges, drawing out of your folds before thrusting back in. He slams his hips into yours hard enough to send you moving forward on the mattress. The sheets beneath you losing there stability. Your pussy clenches around his length in an attempt to lessen the impact of his thrusts.

“Stop clenching. Your gonna rip my dick off,” he growls, and it sends chills through out your body. Dabi had such a disgusting mouth, vial even, but in the end it’s only added to your pleasure. The pleasure which you couldn’t admit you were indulging in. The thought of Dabi fucking you with no mercy only made you want to piss him off more.

Your voice ached to be heard as he continued to fuck your greedy pussy. The sounds of slapping and low distasteful grunts echoed off the hollow walls as he continued to reek havoc on your slit. The closer he got to cumming the closer he neared your cervix.

“You know what? Your fucking cute like this. Being a stubborn fucking brat. Making me fuck you just to get you to act right.”

Cute? Through the rough pleasure that you were feeling that word made something burn inside you.

“Cute? You don’t think I’m fucking cute.” You wither through labored breaths. He takes the pressure off of your neck, interested in trying to hear you explain yourself as he pounds your cunt.

“And why wouldn’t I think your cute, mm?”

“Because you were into that thin bitch. Talking to her, grinning at her. Bet you couldn’t wait until I left so you could fuck her.”

“If I wanted to fuck her I would’ve fucked her. But here I am balls fucking deep in my cunt. In the pussy that belongs to me.” His vulgar words, spark a heat in your tummy, leaving your insides twitching.

“So that’s what the attitude was for? Because you thought I wanted to fuck some rando?” He chuckles before taking the back of your thighs into his hands. He then pushes them back as far as they can go before pulling the length of his cock out, leaving only the tip. Your hand scrambles to meet his stomach but by the time your fingers meet his skin he’s already eight inches deep in your pussy. The head of his cock kissing your cervix.

“Dabi!” You cry out, your toes curling as he slams the weight of himself into you. The boy leans down and places a tart kiss on the shell of your ear.

“So pretty when you cry out like that.” You whimper at his words and weakly shove at his chest.

“Take some out. I told you what was wrong.” A feeble whine lacing your tone.

“I know that’s what we agreed on but your sucking me in. I couldn’t pull some out if I tried.” He whispers, dragging his tongue up your ear. You groaned, squirming under him it was as if he just kept adding inches. Nevertheless the pain you felt was something you were use to, something that you only used to add to your pleasure.

“Gonna cum.” You cry out as he rhythmically fills you up, his cock crashing against your womb again and again. You feel you thighs tremble as your body locks up around him. Your hands slam down gripping the sheets as your orgasm courses through your body. Dabi moves his mouth to kiss you as he lets his own orgasm spill into you. Once you regain your breath you lazily push him off of you.

“Heavy.” You mumble, grabbing the sheets to cover yours self, but before you can pull them over your chest they’re ripped from your hands.

“Don’t.” He demands, letting his hand trail up and down your lower abdomen as he lays he head on your chest, “Let me rub here. It’s cute.”

“Stop calling me cute.” You say rolling your eyes.

“But that’s what you are. Your a damn brat as well but your beautiful, perfect body, perfect smile. It warms my shallow ass heart.” You fluster at his words as he continues his actions.

“Dabi don’t say-.”

“Will you be quiet?” he sighs, “I love you. Your perfect. I wouldn’t dare think of another girl so stop your whining.” You obey and entangle your hand in his hair .

Nothing else needed to be said on your part or his. You were aware of you over exaggeration of the situation and you were glad you had a boyfriend who cared enough to hear you out, even if it was after destroying your cervix.

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

[lexivass]

I see what you're doing, Alice: you're trying to distract us with cute and sexy moments, then when we THINK we're finally figuring out the mystery you throw us down the rabbit hole again. Wicked wicked woman! Just kidding, I'm loving the crime plot line, and the dialogs between the team are just the coolest! 😍 It's like watching a Criminal Minds episode (back when it was still good, lol).

Ok, so there is a connection between Julia and the second victim after all, but I'm still holding on to my "escape goat" opinion regarding the doctor. The line about him being safer in prison made me insane. People said he was acting weird that week. What if he was acting weird because he knows who's behind the murder of Julia's sister and her child and the disappearances? And he got scared when he heard about the second body, so MAYBE he knew who it was already.

Me thinks, which might be the product of the voices in my head speaking and it probably sounds really stupid bc I don't know anything about Julia's sister but ME thinks, Julia's sister and her child's death were not random or just "another death" to this killer. While Julia may have been killed in a crime of passion, I don't see how this could apply to her sister unless the doctor was having an affair with both of them and did it, but that goes against what Lloyd observed so far. Also, it's just too much coincidence that two sisters who (probably) never knew each other being killed around the same time and found in near sites. Unless they knew each other? Did someone wanted to hurt her sister and the doctor just cleared the way for them bc of his abuse? 🧐 This is frying my brain

"He tucked the sheet under your chin and watched the gentle rise and fall of your breath. Seeing you look so serene in his bed gave him a curious sort of satisfaction. The feeling turned his heart warm and soft, as if a ray of sunshine had shone directly into his chest, and melted it."

Alexa, play "You are in love" by Taylor Swift 💕💕

"(...) and collected the luggage. Unless he threw in a load of laundry tonight, you’d have to go home and change in the morning. He unpacked and sorted your laundry with his, making sure to inspect the tags for special instructions."

Domestic caring (future) boyfriend 🥰🥰

"If you’d like, I can contact your siblings and-”

Lloyd has siblings????

"Lloyd’s eyes turned to the mirror in the dining room. He had his father’s bone structure and his thick, dark hair. They stood at exactly the same height and shared a powerful, athletic build. Most days he hated their resemblance, but he was eternally grateful for the last two traits. After puberty his body easily developed and retained muscle, giving him a priceless advantage on the football field. He’d turned it into a ticket to the Ivy Leagues, then to freedom. There were other differences between them, but only on a superficial level. Where Joe Hansen’s eyes were jet black, Lloyd’s were cobalt blue. Joe’s skin was a medium olive that browned quickly in the sun. His own skin repelled sunlight and what little melanin he could develop in the summer vanished before Labor Day. The contrast in coloring was the starkest difference between him and his old man. Except for that, they were almost clones. The fair skin and blue eyes were gifts from his mother. Those recessive Norwegian genes that caused the divergence seemed most readily passed from mother to son. Without them, he’d begin each morning staring at the face of a monster as he shaved. Thank God for small favors."

These descriptions were so fucking good, Alice! Truly a delight to read 👏👏👏

“You don’t want to come keep me safe? What if I get mugged?” So cute ksksksk 🥰🥰

“Why were Julia’s remains so easily found? If Nguyen had the means to dispose of numerous other victims before her without leaving a trace, why wasn’t he as careful getting rid of his own girlfriend? (...) He showed guilty knowledge of Julia’s death. That’s one point we can wholeheartedly agree on. The problem is that they distorted his domestic violence into a generalized violence towards women. When the two separate concepts are blended into one, it’s easy to jump to conclusions.”

I agree with everything 👆👆

“They ask me stupid questions, I’ll give them stupid answers,” Lloyd talking to a journalist must be the funniest thing ever ksksksk

“It’s easier for a father to have children than for children to have a father.” Also agreed.

“Angry. Cheated. Full of regret. Confused. Which is stupid. There’s nothing to be confused about. The bastard finally drank himself to death, and the world is a better place.”

Thank for writing Lloyd being bitter about this. I think it's very realistic (and rightful in my eyes bc I don't think children of abusive parents ever need to forgive them) him not giving a fuck about his father but still feeling something.

Part XII of “The Princess & the Lawyer”

Summary: Lloyd notices Princess’ rising stress but he’s distracted by some unexpected news. Lloyd gives Mr. Bishop his impressions of Nguyen and Princess meets Detective Roth, who reveals a shocking development in the case.

Masterlist

Word Count: 8,481

Warnings: Smut. Sexually explicit writing, erotica level heat. Mention of domestic violence, murder, legal proceedings, stalking, violence, and discussion of criminal behavior. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors.

The Princess and the Lawyer - Part 12

“Careful!”

Lloyd caught your elbow and steadied you. After traveling for twenty hours straight, waves of exhaustion were crashing down. First, the weariness had made your head swim. Now it was disturbing your usually good sense of balance.

“Mmmmhhh.”

“You’re asleep on your feet,” Lloyd said.

You leaned into him and blinked, trying to focus.

“Uh-huh…”

You felt drunk. Even navigating the familiar layout of Lloyd’s front hall was a challenge. He guided you around the corner, to the stairs leading to his bedroom.

As you climbed them, his hand never left your waist. When the bed came into view, the sight of it turned your knees weak. Excitement and relief propelled you the last few feet before you dropped face first onto the mattress. Lloyd chuckled as you buried yourself in the green jacquard duvet, savoring the feeling of the cool fabric. With effort, you dragged yourself up the bed and then sorted through pillows until you’d found the right combination.

The moment your eyes shut, you were asleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lloyd smiled at the sound of the deep, rhythmic breathing that signaled your unconscious. He slipped off your shoes and socks, and when that didn’t rouse you, he unbuttoned your pants and tugged them down. Trusting the effects of jet lag, he removed your shirt and bra, then dressed you in one of his button-ups. You didn’t stir during the entire process.

He tucked the sheet under your chin and watched the gentle rise and fall of your breath. Seeing you look so serene in his bed gave him a curious sort of satisfaction. The feeling turned his heart warm and soft, as if a ray of sunshine had shone directly into his chest, and melted it.

You were stressed out about something.

He’d felt you tossing and turning all night yesterday, and knew your sudden collapse wasn’t strictly due to jet lag. The emotion had become visible in the same moment you’d learned the bad weather had cleared. He watched it build and was mildly put off that you hadn’t shared the cause of your feelings with him. Not yet, at least.

Comforting you was impossible when he didn’t understand the problem. He’d held you last night, but it hadn’t settled your racing pulse. Your heart had pumped so hard and fast, he could feel the beat of it vibrate through you and invade his own body. All night he’d felt it thundering, like drums shaking the walls of a concert venue. This morning at the airport he’d asked if you were feeling okay. Your denial was unconvincing, but he’d marked it down to the public setting. He knew something had gotten your tail in a twist. It was only a matter of time before he found out what it was.

Since this was hardly an appropriate time for that conversation, Lloyd headed downstairs. He reset the alarm system and collected the luggage. Unless he threw in a load of laundry tonight, you’d have to go home and change in the morning.

He unpacked and sorted your laundry with his, making sure to inspect the tags for special instructions. Then he put a load on quick cycle and went to check the mail. He was standing in the kitchen sorting it when his phone buzzed.

The screen showed a 208 area code. He didn’t recognize the rest of the number, but picked up the call anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello. I’d like to speak with Lloyd Hansen, if he’s available?”

“Speaking.”

“My name is Abigail Essex. I’m calling from St. Benedict’s Hospital in Ketchum. Before we continue, can you please confirm the nature of your relationship to Joe Hansen?”

Ice formed in his chest and slid down to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Joe Hansen is my father.”

“Thank you. I’m a nurse in the medical ICU. Your father was admitted a few days ago for generalized weakness and nausea. His condition took a turn for the worse today.”

She paused. Lloyd stared at the glossy white wall. The message was straightforward, but his typically agile brain struggled to comprehend it.

“I’m sorry to be blunt, Mr. Hansen, but your father’s condition is quite serious. He’s suffering from viral influenza which is complicated by his existing liver failure. From the medical records, it looks like his general physician diagnosed him six years ago. The illness was already so advanced that his treatment options were limited.”

Limited treatment options. That meant terminal, didn’t it?

Abigail cleared her throat. “Mr. Hansen? Lloyd?”

“I’m here. How long?”

“Hours, maybe days. His condition is deteriorating. There’s a note in his file that Joe is estranged from his children. However, during end-of-life care we always try to reach out to the family. Social work searched for next of kin, but only found your records. If you’d like, I can contact your siblings and-”

He cut her off. “That won��t be necessary.”

“Okay. We have his POLST on file, so there’s no need for you to make decisions.”

“POLST?”

“I’m sorry. A POLST is short for physician’s orders of life-sustaining treatment. It’s a form filed with the state to express final wishes. Joe already documented his refusal of invasive life support, which is what our next steps would be. You don’t need to decide. Like I said, it’s standard practice to contact family members when we initiate palliative care, in case they’d like to pay their final respects. This call is strictly a notification.”

His lip curled, and rage tightened his belly. Final respects.

“As far as I’m concerned, you can unplug him.”

Shocked silence filled the line.

Lloyd’s eyes turned to the mirror in the dining room. He had his father’s bone structure and his thick, dark hair. They stood at exactly the same height and shared a powerful, athletic build. Most days he hated their resemblance, but he was eternally grateful for the last two traits. After puberty his body easily developed and retained muscle, giving him a priceless advantage on the football field. He’d turned it into a ticket to the Ivy Leagues, then to freedom.

There were other differences between them, but only on a superficial level. Where Joe Hansen’s eyes were jet black, Lloyd’s were cobalt blue. Joe’s skin was a medium olive that browned quickly in the sun. His own skin repelled sunlight and what little melanin he could develop in the summer vanished before Labor Day. The contrast in coloring was the starkest difference between him and his old man. Except for that, they were almost clones.

The fair skin and blue eyes were gifts from his mother. Those recessive Norwegian genes that caused the divergence seemed most readily passed from mother to son. Without them, he’d begin each morning staring at the face of a monster as he shaved. Thank God for small favors.

“Is there anything further?” Lloyd asked.

“Would you like to be notified when he passes?”

“Call if you want, I don’t care. He’s been dead to me for years.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m.

Lloyd hit snooze with enough force to send the clock skittering across the nightstand. You curled into your pillow and groaned. He stretched and climbed out the bed to open the curtains.

On Mondays, he usually jogged the five-mile loop from Old Town to Belle Haven. He shoved back the drapes and saw the sky was ink black and the sky was spitting rain. The humidity would be a bitch and even the light rain would soak him to the bone in minutes. Blankets rustled faintly behind him as you rolled over. He glanced back and smiled. There were other forms of cardio, which were just as effective, and he’d stay warm and dry doing them.

Lloyd sat down by the cocoon of blankets you’d coiled into during the night. He ran his hand over your back and lightly scratched between your shoulders. You made a noise, something halfway between a hiss and a moan, like a cranky kitten.

“It’s Monday morning, Princess. Time to rise and shine.”

“No…”

“C’mere,” Lloyd purred.

You whined as he dragged you into his arms, trying to grab for the pillow. Because you hadn’t opened your eyes, you missed it by a mile and flailed in protest as he hauled you into his lap. He kissed your cheek and rubbed the bridge of his nose against your jaw. Instantly, you softened. He took advantage and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Lloyd. I’m tired.”

“You’ve slept ten hours, you need to stretch your muscles.”

“Go away! I’m not going jogging! Self-respecting humans don’t run at this hour of morning.”

He pretended to be hurt. “You don’t want to come keep me safe? What if I get mugged?”

“Muggers don’t get up at this hour.”

Lloyd chuckled. “Because they’re such nice, polite, self-respecting humans?”

“Yes. You have a screw loose, Hansen.”

“Several,” he agreed. “What if I did my cardio here? Would that repair your impression of my respectability?”

“Mmmmhhh. Okay.”

You were falling asleep again. He could hear it in your voice and feel you relaxing in his arms. Lloyd pushed off the remaining blankets and undid the dress shirt’s buttons. You stirred as he drew apart the sides of the garment to expose your chest. Kissing a feather-light pathway from your ear, down your neck, to the swell of your breast, he took his time.

You arched and lifted your arms over your head, an offer he couldn’t refuse. The rise and fall of your chest quickened as he explored the sides of each breast and nibbled on the delicate swells of their undersides. He kissed your sternum, making sure his mustache tickled your skin.

You squirmed and giggled.

The sound made him smile, even as heat throbbed in his groin. He returned to your lips for another taste. You kissed him with feverish demand, your fingers delving into his hair as you tilted your head back. The innate submission of the movement cracked his control. He growled and his tongue flicked into your mouth as he teased your nipples with his fingertips. You moaned when he cupped the soft flesh and stroked the tender buds. They were rock hard, biting into his hand like pebbles. Every little whimper you made inflamed his desire.

Your nails raked the back of his neck, sending a bolt of lightning straight to his cock. When your hands moved from his shoulders, down to stroke his chest, he inhaled sharply. The caressing exploration made him groan. Your touch felt almost innocent, as if you were still fascinated by his body, despite your increased experience. You traced the swirl of a cowlick in his chest hair. Then your nails scraped, and he hissed at the flash of pleasure.

He lunged, attacking your neck with his lips and teeth, eager to retake the upper hand. Lloyd pinned you to the bed, easily countering your half-hearted attempts to squirm away. Then he bit your neck, and the startled cry it elicited from you went straight to his groin. He licked the mark he’d left and savored the taste of your sweat. When he took a deep breath, and scented the tang of your arousal, hanging thick in the air, it shattered the last of his control.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

All the pleasure you’d experienced at Lloyd’s hands paled compared to this. It was like he was everywhere at once. Your lips, neck, and cheeks buzzed with heat. A bead of sweat rolled between your breasts - Lloyd licked it up. His eyes flashed to yours and he purred, the sound dripping with satisfaction.

During the week in Qatar, you’d done nothing more than cuddle. His experiences there haunted him and you understood the lack of desire was nothing personal. It seemed this morning he’d shaken off the ghosts and was making up for lost time.

His kisses were dominating, and his touch was tinged with a new sense of property. He was focused on your physical reactions and the caution he’d shown with you in the past was nowhere to be found. His tongue drove into your mouth and your teeth clashed against his. He restrained your wrists above your head without a second of hesitation. Excitement bubbled up at the realization that the flash of dominance he’d shown in Qatar had come out to play again. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you threw yourself into the kiss, matching his feverish assault with equal heat.

He broke the kiss to return his attention to your breasts, and you whined at the loss. Lloyd chuckled, low and warm. His teeth scraped over the pounding pulse in your throat. He nipped at your collarbone and across the mound of your breast. The brush of his mustache as he nuzzled the side, a spot you’d never known could be so sensitive, made you shiver. When his lips finally closed around an aching nipple, the sensation made your back bow.

Fire licked over your skin and raced to your core. The sensitive walls of your sex convulsed, frustrated by unmet need. You felt the wetness soaking your panties as desire built and your body prepared to be filled. Lloyd took his time, lavishing attention on your breasts. He seemed to take pleasure in foiling your attempts to gain control and drew out the foreplay as long as possible. When he finally eased back, you were sobbing and quivering at each brush of his lips against your hyper-sensitive nipples.

Tears glazed your eyes. The pulsating heat in your core was nearly painful. The intense desire rippling through your muscles had turned them weak. Hunger throbbed in your blood and sweat soaked your skin. It was unclear what portion of it was yours and what amount Lloyd had contributed. His body was feverishly hot against yours and his eyes burned with the same hunger that had you writhing helplessly against him.

Finally, he settled over you, peeling off the damp lace covering your sex and shoving it down your legs. He lifted the panties to his face and breathed in the scent. His eyes flashed to yours and their cobalt depths radiated victorious heat.

He growled. The authenticity of the sound stole your breath. It rumbled from his chest, raising the hair on the back of your neck at the barely restrained violence it contained. His fingers delved into your pussy and he groaned, flexing his digits and stretching your inner walls. The searing heat building in your channel turned molten as his fingers expertly stroked and teased. You cried out, sensation rippling from your womb, down your thighs, up your spine, until it crested and you bucked against his hand.

“Lloyd!”

He grunted, then his thumb swiped over your clit, eliciting a scream. The ecstasy made your whole body shudder.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go.”

His fingers kept moving, plunging in and out, teasing your sweet spot, and caressing your pulsing clit. You trembled on the cusp of orgasm, wanting the release, but not quite able to reach it. Lloyd captured the peak of your breast between his lips. You screamed and shattered. Your body surged, hips canting off the bed as you convulsed. Lloyd continued to draw the pleasure out of you, moving steadily even as your powerful inner muscles seized on wave after wave of climax. His thumb teased your clit, even when you tried to jerk away and twisted, trying to dislodge the tormenting stimulation.

“No, no, keep going. Come on, Princess. Give me one more.”

Your shoulder blades pulled together, clenching, as his coaxing words triggered fresh spasms of climax. Right on the heels of the first orgasm, a second wave dragged you into mindless rapture and knocked everything out of your head. Lloyd sucked your nipples, using the strength of his arm to increase the roughness of his ministrations. The change pushed your orgasm to new heights. You keened, thrashing, clutching the sheets for purchase, and wailing as the pleasure refused to let up.

Several minutes later he eased his drenched fingers from your channel. You could only hear the blood pounding in your head and the ragged sound of your breath. Every muscle was shaking. There was no way to count how many orgasms he’d taken from you, or if they’d been separate, because after the second, they’d all blended together. The final tremors of climax lingered in the shaking muscles of your thighs and clenching sex. It felt endless and overwhelming. Despite that, a deep ache inside of you demanded something more. It needed a more complete pleasure to be slaked than his hands alone could give.

He settled between your legs, stretching over you. Lloyd tilted your face up and when your lips met, his kiss was surprisingly gentle. He gently teased your swollen lips before his tongue darted into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed him with fervor.

“Good girl,” Lloyd praised. “Slide down for me.”

He guided you lower, tugging your hips, pulling you away from the headboard. His hands went under your legs and he pushed your knees up, then widened your thighs as far as possible. A tremor ran through you as he dipped his fingers into your sticky folds. He explored around your clit without touching it directly. Just that was enough to make you shake. Lloyd groaned.

“Such a responsive little thing. You’re so fucking tight, Princess.”

The head of his cock rubbed your slit, teasing you with the promise of relief. You whimpered at the slow, cautious breach of his cock sliding into your sex. Lloyd’s eyes fastened on your face. His girth burned, but the discomfort only made your sex flutter harder. The delicate channel beat with a welcome pulse as it struggled to draw him deeper. You groaned at the delightful stretch as he worked himself into you inch by inch. When he was halfway there, he drew back, and with a powerful thrust, drove home. You shrieked when the throbbing spot, deep in your body, that inferno that had demanded relief, was struck hard by the crown of his cock. A blinding surge of pleasure made you thrash, toss your head and claw at his back.

Lloyd snarled. His hips pistoned forward, triggering another blinding surge of pleasure. He rocked again, then set a brutal pace that electrified your spine, making your pliant muscles undulate with a new intensity. Your hands were weak as they grasped his biceps, clinging to him for security.

“Look at me.”

His rough command made your eyes open.

“Say it…”

Your hormone addled brain stuttered, unable to process the demand. He pounded into you harder at your speechlessness, eyes flashing.

“Princess, I wanna hear you.”

He jerked his hips, impaling you deeper than you’d ever felt him. The devastating flood of pleasure made your toes curl, eliciting a scream as tremors became convulsions and you unraveled.

“Say it!”

“Lloyd! Aaaahhh…”

His fingers found your clit and rubbed, quick and hard. You jackknifed at the unexpected pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, Lloyd!”

“Yeah, that’s it. Say my name!”

The pace of the thrusts increased as his control slipped. You recognized the signs of his orgasm and whined in anticipation. His hands tightened on your hips and he lifted you slightly to pound into you at a deeper angle. It brought on another orgasm. This one was fast, sharper than the first. He put his weight behind the thrusts, driving impossibly deep. You screamed.

“Lloyd! Uuhhh…”

The climax felt unending. A groan rose in your throat, low and reverberating, as an entirely different kind of pleasure sent you reeling. The depth of his penetration caused the waves of climax to spread, up into the muscles of your belly, and down your quivering thighs. He teased your clit mercilessly, even as you sobbed. Ripples of pleasure caused your legs to jerk, seizing around Lloyd’s hips as they stripped you of your senses. You shuddered helplessly, crying, whimpering, consumed by a delirium of passion.

His thrusts grew quicker, turning harder and shorter, before his seed flooded you. Lloyd gasped, moaned and then collapsed. In your post-orgasm stupor, all you could manage was to curl one arm around his back. The other was limp, along with the rest of your body. You felt disconnected, so much so that even the pressure of Lloyd’s crushing weight was a distant echo.

This couldn’t be normal. How could so much emotion pour out during something so profoundly physical? You weren’t built to handle this kind of intensity. It had been like the first time, when the sheer excitement of being with him had short-circuited your brain. Except today there had been more. More power. More raw, unbridled passion.

Was it because of the foreplay? Or the brief period of abstinence last week in Qatar? Or was it just the especially potent chemistry between you and Lloyd?

He moved first, rising to his elbows. His eyes were glassy and the emotions in them mirrored exactly what you felt. Recognizing it calmed your racing thoughts. You brushed back his hair and kissed him. His arms flexed around your waist and you felt another pulse of release splash against your womb. Then you realized your bodies were still joined, and you were sticky with more than just sweat.

“I need a shower. We both do, actually.”

He grunted. “Can you move?”

“Probably not. I feel boneless.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lloyd’s eyes skimmed your figure appreciatively as you walked ahead of him, entering the lobby of Bishop & Howard.

“No ogling before 10:30, Counselor.”

“If you don’t want to be ogled, don’t wear skirts that make your legs look so tasty.”

“When did I say that I didn’t want to be ogled? I only said it had to be after 10:30.”

“10:30 p.m. came and went nine hours ago.”

“I hate lawyers.”

He followed you to the elevator car and leaned against the wall, his eyes still tracing your curves.

“You look good enough to eat.”

“And you look like a troll that woke up on the wrong side of the bridge. Are you jet lagged?”

“Maybe. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

The car arrived with a chime and you stepped in. Lloyd tapped the button for the fifth floor.

“All that cardio this morning probably didn’t help. Why don’t you take a catnap on your sofa? I can cover for you.”

“No. I need to see Bishop.”

Your humor faded. “You’re going to tell him?”

“There’s no point in waiting.”

“Alright. Just make sure he’s caffeinated.”

Lloyd snorted. “I do have some sense of self-preservation.”

The elevator doors opened to the unexpected sight of Bishop, waiting for you. He had a take-away carrier of coffees balanced in his left hand.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. I already had two cups.”

You assembled in Lloyd’s office, and everyone fell into the same places you’d taken on the day the case was introduced. Bishop settled into one of the armchairs while you and Lloyd shared the couch.

“How was Singapore?”

“The interrogation went smoothly. Nguyen wasn’t forthright, but he wasn’t as hostile as he could’ve been,” Lloyd said.

Bishop considered. “Age could do that, but so could twenty years of living with a guilty conscience.”

“I wouldn’t say the good doctor has an overdeveloped conscience,” Lloyd said.

“I’d concur. Did you learn anything new?”

Lloyd leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He laced his fingers together loosely and met Bishop’s gaze.

“I don’t think he did it.”

“That’s ridiculous. I know my prosecution didn’t have the strongest evidence, but I stand by that verdict.”

“There are significant inconsistencies in the case.”

“Nguyen’s history, and his obvious motive, were evidence enough.”

“He had a motive for Julia’s murder. But there’s no solid connection between him and the missing women. In the best cases all there was is circumstantial evidence and in the worst cases, it’s pure conjecture.”

Bishop waved his hand as if wiping away the claim.

“He had opportunities and he’s the only person directly connected to all the victims. When his girlfriend turned up dead, we knew. But the real nail in his coffin is that when he was prosecuted, the disappearances stopped.”

“Roth sent us the files on the other suspects. I’d hardly call those ‘investigations’ thorough,” Lloyd said.

“When your list of suspects is the whole town, it’s hard to be thorough,” Bishop fired back.

“Fine. But this is an instance where the simplest explanation was molded to fit the public’s theory and calm the community.”

“Don’t chase zebras, Lloyd. You spoke with the man, you’re an astute judge of character. It takes all of five minutes to know what he is.”

“Emotionally unstable. Intelligent. Manipulative enough to identify emotions but cold enough not to feel them. His sense of empathy is strictly cognitive - he can understand why people have emotions, but I suspect he doesn’t feel much more than pleasure, excitement, anger, frustration, and disgust. He’s pretty high up on the spectrum of psychopaths. But he’s not excited by violence.”

“How could you tell?”

“His reactions. He feels, or at least pretends to feel, a sense of shame for how he treated Julia. The investigation scares him. But what really made him react was hearing about the second body. He knows more than he’s saying. It’s probably why he didn’t fight the charges harder. He knew he was safer in prison.”

“Who’s your suspect?” Bishop asked.

Lloyd snorted. “Everyone in town, unfortunately.”

“The media has dragged this story through the mud, and back again, several times. They’d whipped the locals into a lather long before Dr. Nguyen’s name entered the investigation, and they’re fixing to do it again.”

“I expect it will be a challenge, but that’s why you brought me in. Roth provided the original case files. The kindest way I can phrase my opinion is to say that their investigation never really got both oars in the water.”

Bishop’s hand covered the joint of the ankle that rested on his left knee. He tilted his head back in what most people would have taken for arrogance, but knowing him, you pegged it as discomfort.

“The state police took one look at Julia’s case and immediately decided it fit the pattern of the disappearances. Nguyen wasn’t just a convenient suspect, he was their only suspect. Extrapolating from a solitary murder, one that occurred within the setting of a domestic violence situation, to a broader accusation doesn’t track.”

“What tracks is that after he went to prison, the disappearances stopped.”

“Nguyen is an emotionally unstable, deeply insecure, coward of a man with an unquenchable need for control. Beating on his woman gave it to him. Why seek other outlets for his anger, when he had a perfectly good punching bag waiting at home?”

“I’m not a psychiatrist. Why he committed his crimes isn’t my concern. My concern was that women stopped disappearing in Harmony once they locked him up.”

“Why were Julia’s remains so easily found? If Nguyen had the means to dispose of numerous other victims before her without leaving a trace, why wasn’t he as careful getting rid of his own girlfriend?” Lloyd asked.

“Dumb luck. Son of Sam was caught because of a parking ticket. Israel Keyes used a credit card from one of his victims. Anyone can get sloppy - even serial killers. When they do, it’s a lucky day for the justice system.”

“Murdering your girlfriend is one type of crazy. Serial killing is another. It’s no stretch to imagine Nguyen in the first category, but the second? He doesn’t have the patience, the emotional control, or the guts.”

“He had connections with all the missing women,” Bishop said.

“Shocking, isn’t it? Given that Harmony’s such a bustling metropolis, and considering Nguyen was a local doctor who treated hundreds of patients a year. Most of those so-called ‘connections’ were pretty thin.”

“Well, along with being connected to all the victims, he lied to investigators and showed guilty knowledge about the circumstances of Julia’s death. He also had a documented history of violence against women and no alibi.”

“He showed guilty knowledge of Julia’s death. That’s one point we can wholeheartedly agree on. The problem is that they distorted his domestic violence into a generalized violence towards women. When the two separate concepts are blended into one, it’s easy to jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not seeing the distinction,” Bishop said.

“Nguyen had a personal attachment to Julia, and he was violent toward her. However, I suspect anyone who got too close with him would be at risk. Dominating someone else, taking away their control, that’s how he relieves anxiety. It’s a feedback loop, one that only works when there’s an emotional bond between him and the victim.”

“That’s interesting. But the fact stands: locking Nguyen away precipitated the end of the abductions in Harmony. Twenty years have gone by without another case.”

“Coincidence.”

Bishop bristled at Lloyd’s dismissive tone. “No more victims equals no more offender.”

“That’s a non sequitur. No more kidnappings equals no more kidnappings; drawing any other conclusion is bending the facts to fit a theory.”

“I disagree, but common sense isn’t a flower that grows in everyone’s garden.”

Lloyd snickered. Just like that, the thick layer of tension hanging over the room evaporated.

“You asked my opinion, and went to a lot of trouble arranging the interview, because you knew I wouldn’t be anything less than candid.”

“You’re a blunt instrument, Hansen,” Bishop sighed.

“Always have been, always will be.”

“I considered sending Zach to interview Nguyen. The trouble is, my objectivity in this case took a hike long ago and whoever went to Singapore…”

He trailed off, cheeks flushing with embarrassed color.

“Whoever went to Singapore had to come back and pull the thorn out of the lion’s paw,” Lloyd said, filling in the rest of the thought.

“I needed an unfiltered perspective on Nguyen from someone I trusted. You’re the only person I respect who’d be irreverent enough to speak your mind, regardless of it pissing me off.”

“Irreverence is a speciality of mine.”

Bishop laughed, then sighed. “It’s difficult to re-investigate a cold case under the best circumstances. When the media learns there are new victims, and where they were found, they’ll descend like a plague of locusts.”

“No doubt,” Lloyd agreed.

“When I met with Roth, he mentioned reporters had already come sniffing around. Nguyen probably contacted them himself.”

“I can handle the media,” Lloyd said.

“Uh-huh.” Bishop glanced at you.

“I’ll keep him away from reporters,” you promised.

“Just try your best. Even reformed, he’s damn near ungovernable.”

“They ask me stupid questions, I’ll give them stupid answers,” Lloyd said.

“No, you won’t. If they call, you forward it to me. If you’re approached in person, the only acceptable answer- even to stupid questions - is ‘no comment.’ Under no circumstances will you say anything else.”

“She loves to cramp my style,” Lloyd said to Bishop.

“I know… my peace of mind often relies on it.”

A tap sounded on the door frame, and three sets of eyes swung to the noise.

“Visitors for you, Mr. Hansen.”

The receptionist stepped aside, revealing a uniformed police officer. Beside him was a man you’d have guessed was his partner, if he’d worn the same navy blue. Instead of a uniform the second guest was dressed in slacks and a blazer. The jacket was the most hideous shade of burnt orange you’d ever seen. It should be a crime to dye perfectly good fabric such an ugly color.

“I’m here to see Mr. Hansen,” the officer said.

“That would be me.”

“May we come in?”

Bishop moved to the couch, directing the newcomers to the matching armchairs on the far side of the conversation area. You slid to the middle seat and let him take the end.

There was a grimness in the officer’s features that suggested this wasn’t a casual visit, or a pleasant one. Bishop frowned, apparently picking up the same vibe. Lloyd, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed by the apprehension the guests carried into the room.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’m Officer Audley, of the D.C. Metro Police. This,” he gestured to the man in the hideous jacket, “is Morgan Lopez, our community coordinator.”

Audley paused and scanned Lloyd’s face.

“I have some bad news, Mr. Hansen. Your father was admitted to the hospital in Ketchum, Idaho last week. He had chronic liver disease, which was complicated by a bout of influenza. I’m sorry to tell you he died earlier this morning.”

The statement hung in the air, wiping everything away with its finality. Lloyd’s father was dead. Your heart twisted unpleasantly. Your father was your rock, the steadiest, most reliable man you knew. In Lloyd’s position, you’d be devastated.

“Alright. Thanks for stopping by.”

Officer Audley blinked, and Mr. Lopez’s eyebrows lifted. Even knowing Lloyd like you did, his reaction was unsettling. He noted their response and gave a tight smile.

“Look, there isn’t much to say. My father and I haven’t spoken in almost 25 years.”

Audley’s expression shifted, recovering its professional mask. “I understand. The Blaine County Sheriff asked us to pass on some information.”

He waited for Lloyd to nod, then flipped open a small notebook.

“According to the sheriff, your father had downsized his cattle ranching operation but the… uh…” Audley squinted to read his writing. “Brand inspector?”

“That’s right. I take it there are cattle to be dealt with?”

“367 of them according to the Brand Inspector’s records. They’ve contacted the feed store and some local cowboys will take care of things for a couple days.”

Audley’s tone was tinged with disbelief as if he found discussing the day-to-day operations of a cattle ranch utterly bizarre.

“Was anyone available?” Lloyd asked.

“Just for the next two days. Sheriff Holbrook said he’d put out some feelers to see if anyone was available for temporary hire, but all the cowboys are employed, or busy rodeoing.”

“I’ll make some calls,” Lloyd said. He looked at Bishop.

“Go. Take care of your family matters.”

“The case-”

“Zach will take the lead and Princess can keep you in the loop. If you’d like to be in the loop, that is.”

“I do. I want regular updates.”

“Then it’s settled. Don’t spare a thought for the investigation, just take care of what you need to. Your team can handle things.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You closed the door behind Officer Audley with a quiet sigh of relief.

Lloyd’s complete lack of reaction made enduring the rest of their visit hard. It was difficult not to comfort him. It was even harder to sit there quietly, aware of his pain bubbling up, as the shock wore off. Bishop had charmed the visitors and skillfully ended the visit by escorting them to the elevators. You felt like an eon had passed before he’d led them away.

Lloyd stood by the desk, his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the items lining the edge. You stood with your back to the door and braced for the crash of him shoving everything off the desk. Even with therapy his strongest displays of emotion leaned toward volcanic.

A minute passed and the crash didn’t come.

“Lloyd?”

You stepped closer and when he didn’t react, approached him. Making sure he saw it coming, you touched his shoulder.

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s easier for a father to have children than for children to have a father.”

You stroked his arm, observing the quick rise and fall of his chest. The increase in respirations was the only visible sign of distress.

“I didn’t come up with that,” Lloyd said.

His tone was remote, as he stared sightlessly at his desk. The vacant expression called to mind the pictures of shell-shocked soldiers from the First World War. After seeing them in your third-grade history textbook, those photos had given you nightmares for months.

“Some dead Pope came up with that saying. My father, he grew up Catholic… he repeated that phrase. Repeated it a lot. When I was a kid I thought it was nonsensical. Then one day the meaning of it hit me, and I realized he knew exactly what a shitty excuse of a father he was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His voice prickled with defensiveness, the kind that always reared up after he revealed something painful about his past. You usually eased away when he signaled discomfort, because comfort was something he despised, especially when he was the one who needed it. Today you couldn’t offer him that space. Your arms went around him and you slid between his body and the desk, cuddling into his broad chest.

Lloyd’s arms banded around your waist, loosely at first. Then they tightened into a fierce hug.

“I got a call last night. His nurse asked about end-of-life care and I told her it was fine by me if they unplugged him. But he’d already put his last wishes on file. No life saving measures. He stole the only chance I could’ve had to legally kill him. That pisses me off.”

His voice was gravelly with a hurt that ran deeper than anger ever could. You could feel the sorrow welling up in him. After a minute he lifted you to sit on the desk and buried his face in your neck. You spread your legs as far as your tight skirt allowed, drawing him close.

“I thought I’d feel relieved.”

You combed your fingers through his hair, listening to his ragged breathing. After a while, you felt dampness on your shoulder. It didn’t surprise you that his tears came, or that they fell silently.

“How do you feel?”

“Angry. Cheated. Full of regret. Confused. Which is stupid. There’s nothing to be confused about. The bastard finally drank himself to death, and the world is a better place.”

But he was still your father.

You didn’t say it, because it wouldn’t do any good. It wouldn’t comfort him or lighten the weight of his grief. The fact was, nothing could break that primal tie between a child and a parent. That was the cruel nature of heritage - it endured, no matter how hard a person tried to break away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Trying to be subtle, you glanced up and down the hall. When you were sure you were alone, you ducked into the stairwell for a secret meeting on the fifth floor landing.

Jake was already there, with Landon McAnanny.

“Have you talked to Lloyd?” Jake asked.

“I couldn’t, something came up.”

“What the hell came up?!”

“His father died!”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Lloyd’s father is alive?”

“He was until this morning.”

“Uh… he’s never mentioned his father before.”

“He’s going to Idaho to settle his affairs.”

“He’s leaving today?” Landon asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not good.”

You cringed at the concern in his eyes. Seeing his reaction fanned the anxiety you’d been fighting back for days.

“I’ll tell him as soon as he gets back.”

Landon eased a half step closer. “Look, reaching out to Aiden’s father was a good start, but he can’t control his son for long. The anger is escalating and there’s a subtext of entitlement in the latest messages. It stinks of trouble.”

Jake nodded emphatically as Landon continued.

“You’ve already documented everything. It’s more than enough to file a complaint.”

You were shaking your head before Landon finished.

“They can’t do anything. Aiden’s texts are anonymous and he’s been careful not to be spotted.”

Landon’s right eye twitched. “I know. But reporting your suspicions-”

“Will be little more than an exercise in humiliation.”

The men exchanged a sidelong glance. You sighed, knowing they probably didn’t share your distrust of the police, especially not in a matter like this.

“Look, cops are notoriously bad at handling stalkers. A lot of it comes down to the fact that anti-stalking laws have to be balanced against the bill of rights. Using other avenues to resolve this is a much better option.”

“Mr. LeDoux is a cop, and he said he would help with that,” Jake pointed out.

You sighed. Having Mr. LeDoux’s support behind your complaint would count for a lot in a town like D.C.

“With the amount of evidence you have, they’d be completely negligent to ignore you,” Landon said.

Someone coughed. You looked up and froze at the sight of Bishop on the sixth floor landing.

“I apologize for eavesdropping, but if I can interject…”

“Please do,” Jake invited.

Bishop came down the steps and joined you on the lower level.

“From what I gathered, your ex is making a problem of himself, Lloyd doesn’t know, and the situation is escalating.”

“Yeah.”

“How bad are the messages?” Bishop asked Landon.

“Bad. He’s gone from annoying and sadistic to action-oriented threats. The past three days he’s been sending pictures of her building like he’s staking it out.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“It started when I was in Singapore. I contacted his father already, and he holds the purse strings, which should help, but so far…”

Bishop nodded. “Uh-huh. Legally speaking, it would be beneficial to start a record with the police sooner, rather than later.”

“I’m coming around to that… slowly. I’m going to tell Lloyd, just not right now. I can’t add to his stress.”

“You’re working in the field with Zach this week,” Bishop said. “Stick close to him. Outside of work, you’re going to be house-sitting for Lloyd while he’s out of town, correct?”

“Yeah.”

The thought of Lloyd’s security system brightened your mood. Your top priority was not returning to your apartment for the foreseeable future. Not when Aiden might be sulking around.

“What about telling Zach?” Jake asked.

“How do you think Lloyd would feel if I told Zach before him?”

“You told me, and I told Landon. What’s the difference?”

“It’s different. Zach is his best friend.”

Bishop frowned. “Under the circumstances, I think he’d understand.”

“Can she work from our offices?” Landon asked. “The rent-a-cops down in the lobby aren’t much more than window dressing.”

“You can work from home, Zach’s offices, even the State Police building if Detective Roth allows it. Until Lloyd can be here with you, our building has too much foot traffic for safety,” Bishop said.

“Weston might not be thrilled with that.”

Bishop sighed at the mention of your supervisor. “He’s still annoying you about time cards?”

“He called me in Singapore to inform me that my card from last week is wrong.”

“You’ve never had an issue before, so I’m sure it’s nothing. Have Jen approve your card and tell Weston it’s resolved.”

“Thanks.”

Bishop opened his phone and typed out a message. Your phone chimed, and you saw he’d shared a contact card.

“That’s the information of a detective I’m acquainted with on the Robbery-Homicide squad at Metro. He’s in the second district office. Just in case you feel the need to speak with someone, keep his number handy. You’re going over to Fairfax with Zach, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll text Lloyd and stop by to pick up the keys, learn the alarm system.”

“Stick close to Zach. Between Lloyd’s security system and him, you should be okay for a few days.”

“And file a police report. Tonight,” Landon said.

You scanned the serious faces of the three men and gave in.

“Okay. I will. Tonight.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You arrived at Lloyd’s finding his luggage packed and sitting by the front door. From the back of the house, a door slammed, and you followed the sound to the kitchen where Lloyd was re-lining the trash can.

“Hey.”

“I just finished cleaning out the fridge. You might need to pick up some groceries. There’s $300 cash in the cookie jar, don’t waste your own money.”

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel real.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You’re already doing it.”

You hugged him and he propped his chin on top of your head as he returned the embrace.

“We hadn’t spoken in decades, so I don’t know why this feels different. But it does. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s okay to be confused. And you don’t owe me any explanations,” you said, rubbing his back.

“I can’t understand how I can hate him so much and still feel grief.”

“Feelings aren’t required to make sense. They get to be complicated, and if you don’t want to unravel them right now, that’s okay. Just don’t feel like you’re alone. Whenever you need to talk, or just be with someone, I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’ll be staying here while I’m gone.”

So were you, but for entirely different reasons.

“Call me when you land, okay?”

“I will. Text me about the meeting. Even if it won’t get through until I’ve landed, I want an update.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At the state police headquarters in Fairfax, you met Zach in the parking lot.

He peppered you with questions about Lloyd’s reaction to his father’s death. You realized he knew far more about their relationship than you did and traded bits of information for the scant details he could offer about the late Mr. Hansen.

A young female officer escorted you to a conference room, where Detective Roth was waiting. Having spoken with him on the phone, you’d formed an image of how he looked, which was completely wrong. He wasn’t in his mid-thirties with sandy brown hair as you’d expected.

Instead of hair, he had a shaved head. At first glance his eyebrows appeared blond but when the sunlight caught them, you saw he was actually a redhead. Most surprising was that he wore rimless glasses, the kind Steve Jobs was famous for, though his were more oval than round. When he stood, he towered over you. Even Zach, who wasn’t short by any means, had to look up at him.

“Good afternoon,” Roth greeted.

There was a hint of a Georgia drawl in his vowels and his eyes were arctic blue. The icy gaze carefully examined both his visitors before he invited you to sit.

He opened the meeting with the usual pleasantries and you noted his manners matched the Southern drawl. His relaxed posture didn’t hide the cunning intelligence in his pale eyes and within a minute you recognized that he was every bit as dangerous as Lloyd or Zach. Questions flowed naturally into the conversation, like slippery eels, and his nonchalant mannerisms disguised the intense scrutiny behind them. Roth took his time, thoroughly analyzing you and Zach, before he addressed the elephant in the room.

“Given Bishop’s history with this case, I’m not comfortable with his people involving themselves in my investigation.”

“We’re here to help, nothing more,” Zach said.

He’d been trying to connect with Roth, using the good old boy affability he wore like a veneer when he was trying to be personable. It wasn’t working, not even a little.

“Help,” Roth repeated.

His tone was bland, despite the twinge of annoyance you caught around his eyes. He pinned Zach with a hard look.

“You’re here to help, alright. And to keep your boss informed. He’s already been down and given me his version of the charm offensive. To be honest, Mr. Hightower, I liked his style more than yours. But I didn’t answer his questions and I’m hesitant to share anything further, knowing he’d like to influence my work.”

Zach smirked. “I don’t work for Bishop.”

“Employee or not, he pays you. That’s working for him in my book.”

You jumped in before Zach could dig a deeper hole.

“Detective, we understand your concerns. Trust won’t grow overnight, but we’re here. What can we do that would be most helpful to assist your work?”

“I have a nightmarish list of records to locate, if they even exist, and organize. That’s priority number one.”

“I had a thought about that the other day,” you said.

“Creating a database of publicly available records from that time would streamline the research process significantly. With some help from the Harmony library and the courthouse, I can get started. Once we’ve logged our own copies of everything, it will save a lot of time cross-referencing later.”

“That could be useful.”

Zach cleared his throat. "Speaking of useful, can we get access to the recent labs?”

“No. But if you file a request with the front desk, they’ll get back to you.”

“File a request? Are you kidding me?”

“Does the look on my face suggest that I’m joking?”

You had to smother your laughter. Roth’s face didn’t suggest anything. He might be the most closed-book person you’d ever met. You especially appreciated the way he pushed Zach’s buttons.

“Have you had any media attention on the case lately?” you asked.

“Fortunately, no. But my luck won’t hold for long. Any help managing that shit storm would be much appreciated.”

“I’ll leave you my card.”

“And I guess I’ll go file my request with the front desk,” Zach said.

The tiniest smile curved Roth’s thin lips. He waited until Zach began to unfurl himself from the chair, then reached for a folder.

“Here’s the DNA results.”

He turned it over, so the print side was down, and slid it across the table. Zach picked it up and held it so you could both read. Your eyes scanned the page quickly. As you took in the meaning, you bent forward to check that you’d read it correctly.

“They’re sure this is accurate?” Zach asked.

“Yeah. We were surprised, too. Not by the first result, but the third comparison they did was a heck of a plot twist.”

You studied the results. “The first test established that the woman in the recently discovered slab is the mother of the child found with her. But what about the DNA sample labeled X? Who is that from?”

“A relative. We do that a lot in cases like this, trying to identify a family tree. DNA from mother and daughter matched with a known sample in CODIS.”

“50% match with the mother and a 25% match with the daughter. You found a grandparent?” Zach asked.

“We identified a full-blooded sister of the mother,” Roth said.

“Who is sample X from?” you asked.

“Julia Xiarong.”

“Holy shit,” Zach murmured, staring at the report.

“That wasn’t the strangest part. Now, I’ve confirmed this next piece of information five different ways, trying to wrap my head around it. By all records, and from interviews with people in China who knew Julia as a child… Everyone confirms the same thing. She didn’t have a sister.”

You struggled to absorb the revelation. Roth pushed his glasses up and rubbed the bridge of his nose where they’d rested. A disbelieving smile twisted his thin mouth.

“There’s no record of Julia Xiarong ever having a sister.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Coming Soon: Part XIII

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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[lovely-angst]

Hi I saw your post can I request a scenario with dabi and female reader having an argument vut with fluff ending, thank you so much 💗

a/n: this took so long bc i couldn’t sit and write for more than like 10 minutes a day. but this fic is  l e n g t h y  bc this is the kinda of angst I like hehe. also, it’s hard writing for dabi! his character is so complicated!

tw: arguing

genre: fluff and angst

pairing: dabi x reader

summary: you and dabi get into a heated argument and trying to fix the relationship is harder than it seems.

word count: 3.5k

03.09.2021

-

It was probably a bad idea that you ran out of the house at night, but you felt as if you had no other choice. You and Dabi had just gotten into a heated argument—the most heated argument the two of you had ever had actually.

It might have been over something stupid, but it had been running through your mind for the past few weeks, so it couldn’t have been that stupid. Not to you at least.

Your eyes were stained red from all of the crying you had done prior, but every time you thought back to the words the two of you threw at each other, you couldn’t help the blurriness of the tears that filled your eyes.

“If you’re so miserable with me, why don’t you just leave!” Dabi shot at you as anger filled your entire body. 

“I can’t!” you shouted back before sadness washed over you, tears quickly rising to your eyes as you stared over at your boyfriend. “I have nowhere else to go anymore because I left everything behind for you!” 

“I never asked you to! Maybe you should’ve thought about that when you decided to mess around with someone like me.”

“You didn’t have to ask! I did it because I love you! But you wouldn’t understand because you don’t care about me!” You shouted angrily at Dabi, who was fuming at you with clenched fists, 

“You’re right, I don’t care. Get out of my fucking place.” 

Staring down at your hands, you let out a sigh. You were starting to miss Dabi. Even after everything that had just happened, your heart was still full of love for him. There was no way he meant it, right?

It wasn’t that you were miserable with Dabi, you loved him with all your heart. You had just wanted him to put more effort into the relationship, into you. He was always away doing whatever work he had to do and you missed him—Dabi was all you had left.

Reaching into the pockets of your light jacket, you frowned upon only finding a few napkins and empty wrappers from whatever treat you had snacked on. In a rush to leave the apartment, you had forgotten to take your phone and wallet, leaving you with nothing.

Sniffling, you glanced around at the empty streets, trying to find a warm place to stay at. It wasn’t terribly cold, but cold enough where you would love to be someplace warm. Going home wasn’t an option, seeing how Dabi had just kicked you out, but going back to your parents was an even worse option. They had given you an earful about Dabi and you were practically disowned when you left with him.

It was just like any other day. The two of you were on his roughed-up couch that so happened to fit the two of you perfectly. Dabi sat behind you as you sat in between his slender legs in a comfortable silence. 

He had this place for himself when he didn’t feel like staying overnight at the league and it used to feel so big when it was him alone. But recently, you’ve been occupying this space with him which made everything feel so much warmer. 

And he told you. “You should move in with me,” he said, earning a small smile from you. 

But you knew it couldn’t be that simple. 

“My parents don’t want me around you anymore,” you told him softly in his arms. “They said you’re not a person I should be spending my time with.” 

“Well, you’re old enough to be making your own decisions,” he huffed and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am,” you told him, finding his hands and gently running your fingers along them.

“But if I decided to move in with you, they’ll disown me. Cut me off from the family,” a heavy sigh escapes your lips, slumping back on your boyfriend’s chest. 

“Yeah, but we can be our own family,” he said before a small wave of silence fell upon the two of you. Turning around to face him, you couldn’t help the sad smile on your face, “Could we really though? I mean, you’re busy and if I’m no longer with my family, I’d be alone.” 

“Trust me, doll,” he starts with a smirk, pushing hair away from your face, “we will make it work.”

You stared up into his blue eyes hesitantly. Dabi was no family guy. He wasn’t even the type of guy to settle with someone, yet here he was asking you to move in with him to be his family. 

But you loved him too much. 

Placing a gentle hand on his chest, you lean forward to press a kiss onto his lips before slightly pulling away, “Promise me you’ll take care of me?”

Dabi let out a small chuckle, grinning before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Promise.”

You were really alone now.

-

Panting heavily, Dabi stared at the door you had just slammed shut as you fled from the apartment the two of you shared. Good riddance, he thought, storming over toward the bedroom to cool himself down—his flames were about to burst out any minute now with how angry and irritated he was.

He had already told you that he couldn’t be that perfect boyfriend who could do all these amazing things for you. You knew this and you had told him it was alright because you love him. So what was that back then?

Roughly running his hands through his hair, he sat back against the bed before letting out a heavy sigh and rubbing his eyes out of frustration. Maybe telling you to get out of the apartment was a bit much, but Dabi knew you’d eventually find your way back. You always did.

Grabbing his phone from beside him, Dabi decided to shoot you a text telling you to come back because it would be a hassle to take care of you if you got sick—his way of telling you he cared.

It was late in the night already and Dabi was tired from everything. He wished that you could’ve been there for him to hold when he drifted off into a dreamless slumber, but you weren’t because of him.

Walking over to the front door, Dabi made sure the door was unlocked if you had decided to sneak your way back in. Which he secretly hoped you would.

Upon opening the fridge, Dabi’s heart clenched once he saw all of the food you had cooked and stored away for him with little notes written on them.

‘I know you hate fish, so this doesn’t contain any fish!’

‘This dish has a lot of meat so eat up to get all your protein in because you’ve been working so hard <3′ 

‘This one is my favorite, so try it out and see if you like it just as much as me :^)’

Did you have to be so stupidly cute?

Dabi was weak against you, and he knew it too. Heating up the dish you deemed your favorite, he walked over towards the small dinner table that would fit the two of you perfectly.

Staring down at the dish, Dabi let out a chuckle—of course this dish was your favorite. And it tasted like home too, something he seemed to enjoy more of when you were here too. 

He really did miss you too.

It had been a week since you moved in with Dabi. He enjoyed coming home to you sharing the space with him and making it more homely and warm. Dabi was quite ecstatic that you agreed to live with him, but there was only one problem.

You didn’t seem so...happy. 

Dabi would often catch you staring off into space or constantly staring out the window as you let your thoughts run wild. And when he would finally build up the courage to ask, you’d respond with a smile.

“No, I am happy to be here with you,” you’d remind him softly, “I just kinda miss my family.”

And though Dabi knew that, he couldn’t help but want to be selfish and keep you here to himself. You were his family now and you chose to be his a part of this family when you agreed to live with him. 

“But we’re our own family now and we’ll take care of each other,” you told him with a smile despite your sadness.

You seemed to always find the right words to soothe Dabi’s thoughts. You were great at helping him—even when he couldn’t seem to help you at all.

Twitching awake, Dabi glanced around confused. When did he fall asleep? His discarded dish was still on the table right where he left it. He must’ve fallen asleep when his thoughts consumed him.

Glancing over at his phone, Dabi frowned when two hours had passed and there was no response from you. You didn’t even bother looking at his text. Were you seriously that upset? Letting out a sigh, Dabi decided to call you instead, hoping to get you home safe.

It wasn’t until he heard your familiar ringtone playing from the living room that Dabi had realized that you left your phone. Which meant you were out somewhere alone and defenseless in this sketchy neighborhood. It had already been two hours. Who knows what could have happened to you.

He always felt as if you were so small and so fragile that it would be so easy to break you.

“Fuck,” Dabi mumbled as he ran into the bedroom to grab his hoodie and a mask before taking off searching for you. Even with most of his skin covered, he could still feel the chill of the late night.

Where could you be at a time like this?

As he ran through the quiet neighborhood, he was glad to see that no one was out and about doing whatever shady business they had going on. But to Dabi’s surprise, there you were, just a few feet away from the apartment.

You sat crouched into a tiny ball as you hid your face in your knees, looking extra small and extra fragile.

Dabi let out a relieved sigh before gently walking towards you, his feet tapping against the concrete gently before stopping in front of you.

“(Name),” he called as gently as he could, “It’s cold out. Let’s go back,” but you didn’t budge. “Stop being stubborn and let’s go back,” Dabi’s voice was laced with irritation before you finally moved, which should have been a great sign. But seeing how you shifted away from him, bothered him more than he liked to admit.

“I don’t want to go back,” you say weakly, curling in on yourself. Dabi scoffed, “Then are you going to stay out here in the cold? I know you have nowhere else to go.”

Your head raised slowly to glance up at him, a heartbroken look on your face before you stood up to face him. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to come back. You promised me you’d take care of me, but look where we are now.”

Turning away from him, you let out a sigh, “I think this relationship is too much for you right now, Dabi. You’re not ready to have another person in your life.”

And your words seem to hurt Dabi more than he had expected. It was just an argument. Things like this always happen in relationships, right? So how come things were turning for the worse?

“You’re dramatic, (Name),” Dabi chuckled. “Just come back and it will be better in the morning.”

He didn’t know how to fix this anymore.

“We can’t act like that argument didn’t happen, Dabi. That was the worst argument we’ve had, and it really hurt me,” you continued, lips quivering as you blinked rapidly, trying to hold back your tears.

“Just come back to the apartment,” Dabi tried once more, but with a surprising calm. “It’s not safe out here and it’s warmer.”

You hated how he could crumble your resolve with a few simple words—you were head over heels for this man. Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you dig your shoes into the ground, “Only for tonight. If things don’t work out, then I’ll find a new place to stay at.”

And though your words carried a heavyweight, Dabi was just glad you agreed to come back. Maybe if he snuggled up into you when the two of you went to bed, you’d forgive him.

But when he saw you setting up your bed on the couch, he realized that this was a bigger problem than he had discovered.

“What are you doing?” Watching you fluff out your pillow, you quietly got into your makeshift bed, bringing the covers towards your cheeks, “I’m going to bed,” you replied, shutting your eyes as you turned into the couch.

“But why are you on the couch?” 

“Because I don’t want to be around you right now,” you mumble into the blankets, hiding your face from your boyfriend as he stood there irritated.

“You’re being such a baby right now,” Dabi responds angrily, but you only replied with a hum, further irking the male as he trudged towards the bedroom and thankfully, shutting off the lights for you on his way.

It hurt to see that Dabi wasn’t as upset as you were about this problem the two of you were having. You wanted to fix this because you love and care for him, but you couldn’t say the same about him. Snuggling deeper into your blanket, you hoped that this night “apart” would help the two of you sleep on the problem and be able to face each other the next day.

-

Your constant stirring had woken you up from your sleep, though you weren’t able to get much sleep anyways. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was the fight that you and Dabi had gotten into.

Anything you dreamt of seemed to be a replay of what had led to now. You couldn’t escape.

Sighing, you let your arm hang off the couch only to have the back of your hand bump into something. Gently, your hand brushes against the foreign object before your eyes widen when your fingers brush across something soft.

Dabi?

Gently turning, your eyes land on Dabi, who asleep on the floor beside you with a small blanket covering his taller frame. Your fingers that landed themselves in his hair gently ran across down to his face, brushing along his scars as he slept peacefully beneath your hand.

Watching Dabi sleep was something you could never get tired of. He always looked so at peace, so relaxed and so carefree and you couldn’t help but wish for him to always have a restful sleep. You just wanted him to be happy.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the hand coming up to brush across your own before they gently held your smaller one in yours. 

Words weren’t exchanged as the two of you laid there in silence as Dabi gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. A small but very comforting affection for the two of you—something you didn’t know you were craving.

“Did I wake you?” your words finally cut the silence as you laid there, basking in the feel of his hand in yours. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“It didn’t feel right sleeping in the bed alone,” A strange confession coming from the man who seemed to strive alone, but it was sweet hearing it from him, feeling how his hand gently caressed yours.

Gently prying your hand from his, you noticed how he tensed slightly before you brought your fingers back to his face gently, running across his scars once more.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

His words cut the thick silence that filled the space between the two of you. Your hand stopped right above his eyes before your brows arched sadly as you listened to him. “We’re our own family now. We’re all we’ve got.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you laid flat against the cushions of the couch, staring up at the dark ceiling above you, “I love you, Dabi, but this isn’t what a family is supposed to feel like. You promised you’d take care of me, but...I just feel like I’ve been doing it all on my own.”

Your eyes stung with tears that began to surface as your emotions came crashing back down on you.

You love Dabi, you really do, but you deserved to be treated better.

“I’m not miserable with you Dabi, I love being with you. It’s just hard when you’re all that I have left and you’re not here too,” you reminded gently, trying not to upset him. But even now, he remained silent.

“If we want things to work, I need you to talk to me,” you were met with silence and you had thought Dabi had fallen asleep but when you turned to glance at him and saw his blue eyes staring off into the distance, you knew it couldn’t work.

Turning back into the couch, you pulled your blankets up towards your cheek once more, letting your tears run freely, “I’ll be gone by the morning. Thanks for everything.”

Dabi laid there listening to your quiet sobs as you cried yourself to sleep on the couch beside him. And to be short, Dabi was freaking the fuck out.

He wanted to say something, anything, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Everything he wanted to tell you was caught and shoved back instead of flowing from his lips.

Sitting up after hearing your breathing even out, Dabi hovered over your, watching how your tears glistened with the faint moonlight and the way your breath would hitch every so often.

He really did love you, even when he couldn’t express himself to you.

Letting the back of his fingers glide across your skin gently, Dabi allowed himself to relax as he watched your peaceful state. You really did deserve so much better than a villain like him.

But he wanted to be selfish.

“You deserve so much more than this,” Dabi’s fingers run across your delicate features as he watched the way your chest rises and falls, “but I can’t give you anything.

“I can’t do anything for you like you do for me. All I do is get upset at you because you just want me to show you a little bit of love when you give me unconditional love.”

“I won’t get mad at you for leaving. I wish I could’ve given you a better family, but I don’t even know what a real family is.” Quietly standing, Dabi leans down to kiss your temple gently before giving you one last glance.

“You were the best thing to have happened to me.” his footsteps fade into the distance as he walked back into the empty bedroom.

Your eyes open once Dabi left, leaving you in the living room as your heart clenched with every word and emotion he managed to squeeze out from his conflicted heart.

You just couldn’t leave him.

-

The birds were chirping freely outside beyond the walls of his small apartment, which meant you had already left. 

With an arm over his eyes, Dabi tried not to think about it—about you, but how could he not when he was so in love with you? 

“ugh, fuck,” he grumbled as he tried sitting up in his bed, only to feel something restricting him. Peeling his arm from his eyes, Dabi glanced down only to be surprised to see you clinging onto his waist as you hid your face in the side of his chest. “(Name)?”

A sleepy whine left your lips as you moved your head around before adjusting yourself beside him, breath evening out once more as you continued to doze off.

He wasn’t sure when or how you got into the bed with him, but he thought maybe this was God’s last gift to him—allowing him to have you in his arms once more before his world would continue to drag him along the ends of the Earth. 

And once Dabi intertwined his limbs with yours, he fell asleep just as fast as he woke up. 

It wasn’t until he felt something weaving in his hair that he woke up for the second time that morning. His tired eyes slowly opened before he turned his head towards the body beside him, eyes catching onto yours before a fragile why fell from his lips. 

“I know it’s hard for you to tell me how you feel and I’m sorry for pressuring you into doing it. But I heard everything you said last night. Thank you.” You place a gentle hand on his chest before lifting yourself onto his chest, your eyes focused on his vulnerable expression.

“It’s hard for the both of us, but if you’re willing to give a little bit more into this small family of ours, we’ll be just fine.”

Dabi couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he brought his hands to the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths mingled, “anything for you, doll.”

[lunaekalenda]

Can I request a JeanxFem!reader where the reader is super friendly/clingy and isn't conscious of the effects it has on Jean? Like sometimes reader would just grab his hand or hold on to his arm, or even stand in front of him and put his arms around their shoulders? Reader ou does this to Jean bc they're best friends but he will never get used to it bc Jean loves them and is all "asdfghjkl" everytime it happens. But then one day reader stops doing this stuff because someone told her Jean likes them but ONLY bc they look similar to Mikasa, which breaks the Reader's cute lil heart. Angst but fluff at the end please!

hi! of course!! i hope you like it! <3 sorry if i got too fluffy at the end :’)

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❁ jean x female!reader

❁ canonverse

❁ a/n: i didn’t want to make annie like a “villain” but she’s just being really honest with what she thinks about it, she’s not trying to bother her!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

"Jean!" you yell. He smiles at you once he found from where your voice comes, and you run to hug your best friend. His tall body gives you difficulties to reach his neck, but he leans closer to you, his big hands on your waist. His heart flutters happily when he feels your warmth closer to him. 

“How was your training?” he asks. You tangle your arm with his, starting to walk calmly towards the dorms. 

When you entered here, on the military, you wanted to punch him. How he was always feeling superior. You wanted to punch him so bad.

But, after the first battle, where some unlucky friends passed away, he changed abruptly. He understood the pain of the more weak ones, and didn’t vacillate to take risky decisions in due to help the mission. He was made to be a leader, and you two worked hand by hand in the same squad. Thats how, quietly, you started to notice how funny and sweet he is, even when he tries to cover it with his prideful façade. But, since you two got really close, you can even difference what he is feeling, even when he tries so desperately to hide it.

Or so do you think.

One day, when you two were training, Mikasa passed by, following Eren. Jean got his eyes fixed on her black hair.

“You like Mikasa, don’t you?” Connie told him, joking. 

“I-I like her hair, no-o more.” He says. In that times, he was your friend, but you weren’t that close. 

Surprisingly, the more friends you became, the more strange you felt. Why did your heart a flip every time he smiled at you? Why did you felt bad when Mikasa asked something to him?

Maybe you were starting to feel something for him?

“You’re totally into Kirstein.” Petra told you. You enjoyed talking to her, she’s really nice. 

“Shut up, Petra, or else I’ll have to tell you how you look when Capt...”

“Got it!” she interrupted you and you both laughed. It was a quiet afternoon, and you two where sitting on the lake. “I think you should go for him.” she said. 

“He isn’t into me.” you answered. “He likes Mikasa.” Petra looked to the lake.

“Who knows, maybe he does feel the same...”

Petra is really positive, unless you talk about her. Then, she says she has zero opportunities.But, you didn’t want to break your special bond with Jean. That’s why you tried to keep things in a friendship, ignoring your feelings for so long.

“It was fine, yep.” you say. “But I’m hungry.” Your belly confirmes it. He lets out a little laugh.

“Let’s go and eat something first, then.” You smile and, letting go his arm, you tangle your fingers with his, walking with his hand on yours. He blushes a bit. “By the way, tonight we have free time. Do you want to hang?” Today, the Captains of the Squads gave you all free time, celebrating that you all survived another expedition yesterday. 

“Sure.” you pull him softly, his hand caressing yours in an unconscious way while you two walk towards the cantina.

❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁

You feel the cold wind against your skin and wet hair while you walk to the encounter point you agreed with Jean earlier. You found Annie walking back to the dorms.

You and Annie haven’t talked that much, specially since her introverted nature finds your outgoing one terrible.

“Hi, Annie.” you say. She looks at you.

“If you’re searching Jean, he’s talking with Mikasa near Eren’s dorm. Just in case.” She speaks. You maybe looked concerned or down, because she looked at you for a long time. “You know you don’t have opportunities with him, right? He’s not the type of boy to fall in love with.” She says. You look at her back, kinda confused of the words she just said. “He thought he liked you, I’m sure he was confused. But then he realized you look so much like Mikasa, so he just likes the way you look like her. Never thought of it?”

“I do not look like her.” You say. 

“The same black hair that Jean loves. That’s enough for him to remind of her every time he looks at you. She’s out of his league, but maybe you...” Maybe she’s right. After all, he loves Mikasa’s black long hair. She cut it, you still have long hair. But, is all of this the truth? 

“Y/N!” Jean calls you from the place you accorded. Annie waves her hand before disappearing, going back to her dorm.

You walk towards Jean without your usual clingy ways. You walk silently, the sweater hugging your body and your gaze low. Jean is aware of your change of attitude. He gets concerned. What did he do to upset you? Maybe you don’t want to see him again. “Are you okay?” he asks, once you’ve reached him. You nod and fake a smile.

“Annie told me you were talking to Mikasa, so I decided to wait there. I didn’t want to bother.”

“You should had call me, dummy!” he says, colliding his shoulders with yours, playing. “You never bother me, y/n.”

His hazel eyes search any type of reaction on yours, but he only gets your gaze on the floor again. He stops walking and turns you to face him. “Hey, it’s everything okay?” He asks. He has lowered his voice and his tone is way more concerned. You don’t know if his kindness makes you feel good or bad. “Y/N?” He asks again. He just needs to know you’re fine, he needs to hear that nothing happened to you. Maybe, he thinks, you’re just upset with him for some reason he can’t think of. 

“I’m fine.” You’re not. You’ve been binge thinking about what Annie said to you, and you ended believing that maybe that’s true. That you’re just a Mikasa impostor on his heart.

“You’re not fine.” He says. Your skin feels electricity when he holds your hand, trying to avoid you from walking away. He searches your eyes once more, but now, they’re full of tears. His eyebrows move in a worrying expression. “What happened?” He asks. His tone is now sweet, trying to calm you.

“Well, now I know why you always pat my hair.” you say. At the end, the logic Annie followed is totally right, at least in your brain. “It is like touching Mikasa’s, right?”

His expression is now extremely confused. What are you doing bringing up Mikasa in a conversation that has nothing to do with her?

“Mikasa’s?” he asks. You wipe your tears with your hand quickly.

“You liked her when she entered, so probably you keep liking her. And my hair looks exactly like hers. Are you using me?” You ask. Your brain thought all of this in one second, this was kinda messy and you don’t know exactly what is happening. Jean is as confused as you are, he doesn’t know how he made a mistake like that. Make you think he’s in love with Mikasa when he’s in love with you. 

“Listen, Y/N...” he says. This wasn’t the confession scenario he built up in his head, but he needs to clarify things now, before this weird conversation ends with you two ending your friendship. "I did like Mikasa. I liked her when we entered, yes. But it was just a platonic love. We're friends. The point here..."

"I'm your best friend, Jean." you say. "You can tell me if you like her, I'll be okay with that. I gave up on you on any way."

He looks surprised. You liked him? You liked him all this time? As he liked you?

“What?” he asks. “Gave up?”

“I liked you, Jean Kirstein. A lot. My heart was out of my fucking chest every time you hugged me and I couldn’t think straight if your body was behind mine. But you were probably thinking about Mikasa and how beautiful she is...”

“No.” his face is serious when he looks at you. Both of his hands go to your cheeks, taking with his thumbs a couple tears that run fast down to your chin. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” he says. Your teary eyes look at his, searching a joke or something like that, but his eyes are more serious than ever. “I knew it was maybe a one-sided love, because I thought you’ll never be interested in me. Every time you acted clingy, my heart was about to explode of happiness. I feel so good when you’re around me, y/n...” he passes one lock of your hair behind your ear. “I knew i was in love  because I didn’t care it was one-sided, if you were happy, I was happy. That’s why I got so concerned today. Even knowing maybe it was my fault, I couldn’t see you looking sad. I couldn’t. Because I’m still so madly in love with you, I care about you and your well.being so much that I felt the pain of your eyes myself. Sorry for making you feel that way.”

There’s now a silence between you. Jean is probably giving you space to understand all he said, and your brain is having an emergency reunion. He does like you, and you’re still so in love with him... After all, all that happened was because a misunderstanding from you. You feel so silly now...

“Sorry.” you say. “I misunderstood things.”

“But that’s because I never told you clearly what I felt.”

“It’s all my fault.” you try to convince him that he’s wrong, that you were the one confused. “Now I probably lost all the opportunities to be with you and also our friendship.”

“Don’t be that drama queen, dummy.” he says, his voice a low whisper. “I think we just need to honestly tell each other what do we feel now.” He says. 

Telling the other? Telling what?

“I’ll start, then.” he says, “I fell in love with my clingy best friend and I’m still so in love I wouldn’t mind dating her.”

His words made your heart beat faster. After all, where you hiding feelings that were probably reciprocate? 

Probably.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” He laughs sweetly when he sees your blushed cheeks. His thumb makes soft circles on them. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this now, but you’re so fucking pretty...” his gaze gets lost in your face, admiring every single part of it.

“I also still love you, but don’t let your ego raise.” he laughs and so you do. Now, you can look at his face freely, how his hazel eyes have such an intense gaze...

“So, now that this is arranged, why don’t we act as if this never happened and you let me confess in a proper way, hm?”

“Sounds great.”

[m4rkiza]

pile of headcanons

bunch of raihan/leon headcanon nonsense from my twit*r

theres alot under the cut, warning : its cheesy, also, i headcanon raihan calling leon "bubu"

Raihan is really good at baking and leon is great at cooking savory & spicy food, raihan likes spicy food and leon likes baked goods, they complete each other

Leon so thick and firm he'd be so good to hug and raihan took advantage of that, holding his bubu until leon complains or whine, yknow when ur pet looks so cute and u hug them, like that

leon contacts name on raihans phone is like "♥💖my bubu♥💕", but raihans contact name on leons phone is "Raihan" with capital R

raihan complained about it, showed leons contact name on his phone, leon is surprised bc he thought his contact name on raihans phone is just "Leon" or "Lee"

then leon changes rai's contact name too "🥰raihoney💖

leon doesnt look like the guy who'd be extra on hair and skin treatment, the reason his hair and skin (especially his hair) is unbearably soft and shiny is bc raihan kept reminding him to do so (and buying it)

sometimes leon act spoiled so raihan will do an entire haircare for him

yes raihan do it bc he loves leon unconditionally and he thinks leon deserves it

raihan has a dirty mouth and uses every swear word but for some reasons, around leon all he can say is "jerk" "ugly" and "dumb"

raihan does that bc all he remember when hes with leon is pet names and how-to-coo-and-woo-your-boyfriend

raihan being leons moral compass feels fitting, not bc leon is dumb but bc leon himself is swallowed by his own title and got the hero complex, making him selfless and have a hard time to say no

raihan is there to "what the fuck are you thinking, dont do that baby, you'll die"

but leon seems stubborn yes? he wont listen if people just say "no", he'd ask the reason why, and if the said person doesnt give a clear answer, he leaves but raihan always tries to explain him in full description, short & long lasting damage, consequence etc

so obviously leon listens, and as time goes by, raihan is.. his moral compass, in a way

raihan playfully growls while squeezing leons body parts but its definitely not so playful in leons mind

raihan always ask leon to wear his freshly-washed-hoodie at sunday so when he go to work at monday, his hoodie will smell like leon

raihans laugh is like "aha haha haha *low volume wheeze* phew heehee" and leon got a laugh that can trigger an earthquake

Raihan sneeze like a kitten while leon sneeze like a buldozer

Leon muffles his laugh by hugging raihan so it wont surprise anyone around them

leon demanding affection from raihan by giving him stupid empty threats

leon : Kiss me or ill

raihan : u will what

leon : i-i will shrink your hoodie and make it mine

raihan : no, now come here bubu

In reality, leon doesnt need to do "things" to get raihans attention, raihan told him he can just ask or "just sit on my lap or tug my shirt and ill cuddle and kiss you till the next day", but leons ego is too high for that so he does stupid shit instead

raihan is very loved by leons family bc surprisingly hes able to stop leon and hop from fighting

if u ask how, raihan simply pick up leon up and walk away

aihan is the only guy who leon will listen too and got called as the "champion tamer"

but all raihan do is just

raihan : bubu, no

leon : no..?

raihan : leon. no

leon : no...

then nag him softly while explaining the consequences, sometimes short and long term effect it depends on the situation

leon is stubborn, so it took sometime to convince him that his plan or an action he almost took to partake is very impulsive or doesnt give a good result

the thing is leon is not stupid, infact hes quite brilliant, therefore its hard to convince him if a person who tries to stop him doesnt have a similiar mind like he is, but thankfully theres raihan

for some reasons raihan is able to found leon in any occasion so the league staff ALWAYS calls him whenever leons gone

league staff : mr rai-

raihan : is it leon

league staff : yes

raihan : im on my way

leon likes to ask raihan for hairbands bc he kept losing them

raihan : bubu, isnt this your third time asking for them this week

leon : ....yes..?

raihan spoiling leon bc he feels he wants to make up for him, bc he wasnt available near leon when fought eternatus

leon follows raihan everywhere in the winter and kept pressing himself to him, whenever raihan question whats wrong leon just looked him in the eye and "im warming you up"

leon is small by raihans perspective but he hugs leon tight anyway

raihan is possessive of leon hes THAT hot, charismatic yet very adorable, leon is the one who keeps his chin up and soothe his fears, and hes the champion, everyone wants the champion, u think he'll let go that easily? no, never

and leon is probably possessive too, raihan is a hot nerd, affectionate and gentle, hes the one who push him to his best, the one who also stops him for doing too much, hes his source of comfort and he wont let go and wont let anyone take his raihan away from him for sure

10 years of friendship and healthy rivalry means 10 years of being on each others live, being one of the biggest contributor and supporter for the other, who pushes to the limit yet stopping when one is too close to the edge of the cliff

no matter if its platonic or romantic, they wont let anyone take their rival, friend and lover away that easy, you wont let anyone try to take away one of the important and huge part of your life

raihan big, so hes the big spoon, he loves cooing right at leons ears and kissing the back of his neck, shoulders and sometimes reaches forward to press a sloppy wet kiss to leons cheek

leon crying to raihan when he founds out raihan smokes when hes stressed out, and begging the other to stop and talk to him instead or cope with healthier way

raihan doesnt need an alarm clock to wake him up, leons just need to grin and say "good morning!" its so bright it WILL wake him up

raihan and leon lives together and since then the outfit leon has on his wardrobe is a collection of formal tailored outfits and his battle tower outift, some booty shorts and work out clothing, and obviously underwear and socks.the rest he just stole from raihan

especially t-shirts, hoodies, and jacket, raihan seeing him walking and opening his wardrobe after shower is such a common occurence that he doesnt even need to ask anymore

raihan looks like the type who carries lipbalm and hand cream in his hoodie pocket, he carries 2, 1 cocoa lipbalm for him and honey lipbalm for leon. whenever he met leon, he applies the lip balm on him, it becomes habit that leon even raise his chin up for raihan

leon can sleep alone fine, but when he woke up he felt groggy,but if he slept on top of raihan he'd woke up like he had a perfect 8 hours sleep even tho he slept for only 5 hours

raihan is a heavy sleeper but waking up with leon glued to his chest/back make his whole day better,especially when he woke up to leon peppering his face with kisses to wake him up

raihan being lowkey flustered and overwhelmed by leons beauty/cuteness/sexiness/everything while leon is being clingy and acting spoiled around him

leon cant be serious around raihan, when he saw the gym leader,he automatically let his guard down infront of him, changing from champion leon to leon from postwick, all giddy and happy

leon unzips his champion outfit and once raihan heard the zipping sound he zooms to leon to plant his face between leons chest

if leon wants attention from raihan he will do various things from holding his arm and press his head to raihans shoulders,sitting on his lap and loop his arm around raihans neck,hugging him from the front and put on a cute face

but if raihan wants attention he just, hug leon from behind,put his head on leons shoulder and doesnt let go until leon does SOMETHING

leon has been taking care of others for so long,so when raihan takes care of him ,its a new,yet quite familiar feeling.

its hard to accept since he felt bad about receiving the attention,but raihan kept doing it until leon tend to act spoiled around him

raihan always kiss leons forehead before he sleeps,when raihan is away, he has the urge to videocall raihan so he can coo him to sleep,but hes too embarrassed to do it

he thought abt that and raihan suddenly videocalling him,its noon on the region he visited, and hes like "heeeey, i just want to say good night to my beloved!! good night leon,sweet dreams,sorry bc i cant kiss your forehead but ill kiss u 10x more when im back"

leon was shocked and stared to his camera "lee? fuck,is the connection that bad-" and leon stuttered "n-no! i was surprised...thank you darling, have fun and stay safe okay?"

"of course! dont stay up thinking abt me for too long,i love you so much bubu,good night!

"..good afternoon raihoney,i love you too" leon stayed up for the next 20 minutes rolling around the bed screaming

raihan actually helps leon on taking care of his dragons, which made leons dragonmons actingspoiled around raihan,and sometimes leon thinks that his dragons loves raihan more than him

raihan plays with his dragonmon as if hes playing with a yamper,calling them "cute little babywubby" and playing with their hands,kissing their foreheads and lays with them on the floor,and of course leon joins in by laying on top or next to raihan

even leon have seen raihan carrying his dragapult like a baby with a baby axew hugging his legs, raihan is legit a dragon pokemon magnet

raihan has a habit of cooing or complimenting at leon even when hes doing the simplest thing ever and leon feels giddy like a 5 y.o everytime raihan does it

can u imagine how many pictures of leon raihan have on his phone,its probably more than 1000, he takes picture of leon as if hes a baby pokemon

leon comes to raihans place at 2 am without any warning,i mean raihan DID gave him a spare key so, raihans flat is HIS flat too,and there he goes,going to the bedroom and slip himself under the duvet,crawling to sleep closer to raihan

at first raihan is SO surprised that he jumped from the bed,but now he doesnt care anymore and just kiss leons head,mumbles "goo'nite bubh" and sleep again

leon does it so often that if hes gone from his apartment,people call raihan instead of him

raihan hugging leon from the back while leon is doing stuff in the kitchen while singing,and raihan is there like,peppering smooches and compliments while leon is STILL singing,and giggling bc raihan is smooching him

raihan is BAD at it but he sings along with leon in a joking manner and leon cant even sing anymore bc hes just wheezing while raihan is just "cmOn bAbeEEe SING AgAiiiNNnn"

[emersonfreepress]

ok ok in the spirit of community, how would the ros fair in a paintball war?

(referring to this ask! like the zombie au post this ended up making me think a lot 😅)

ohh... interesting, interesting... p sure the only paintball wars i’ve really seen were the ones featured in The League, Peep Show, and Community... but let me wrack my lil head...

ok, i ended up coming at this from multiple angles like the zombie au post 😅 always so much to consider in battle environments! and in the spirit of community, I'll stick with the individual player elimination style paintball match. in the woods with other e prep seniors. last one standing wins bragging rights

Gabe

Shooting skill | 6/10 - Experience with shooting and practice with Kile ofc

Stealthiness | 8/10 - He's done a fair amount of sneaking around during his after school activities, is super observant (or just paranoid lol), and naturally light on his feet. Good luck ambushing him.

Strategy | 8/10 - Strike deals. Do favors. Form alliances. Shoot 'em in the back once they’ve outlived their usefulness. ...What? It’s just paintball.

How does he win? | Graciously. Gabe likes winning, and especially via strategic manipulation, so it puts a smile on his face. And he's in a good mood so he treats a bunch of you to ice cream or smth 👀

How does he lose? | Slumps in frustration at being outwitted or taken off-guard, sulks about it for a little while. He's not that sore of a loser but needs time to lick his wounds and stop thinking of the different choices he could have made.

Kile

Shooting | 9 - The most accurate shooter of the cast and easily one of the best shots at E Prep. Lots of practice + talent

Stealth | 10 - They're stupid good at climbing trees and 100% consider that a valid method of ambushing their classmates. People start having flashbacks to 3rd and 4th grade recess and P.E. Scanning the trees. They just start taking people out with such efficiency it quickly starts ruining the game 😂

Strategy | 0? 10?? - “...Strategy? You just stay out of sight and kill 'em all, right?” (immediately scolded by Gabe for word choice 🙄) They really do mainly stay out of sight and pick people off with max stealth, like 😆 they'd be such a terror, people would need to take them out early for anyone else to stand a chance! They spend a lot of the game staking out the most frequented paths in the area and taking out groups quickly, all at once. Then they'll get around to stalking and picking people off one by one. The real fun...

Winner type | Stoic. Likes winning combat but the stakes were non-existent, so... the win is meaningless! this just infuriates the losers more 😅 such disrespect

Loser type | Sucks their teeth and tosses their paintball gun to the ground. "Y'all suck." (they're over it five mins later tho lol)

Jack

Shooting | 3 - This is nothing like shooting light guns... ☹️

Stealth | 5 - Not just due to his size making him an easier target, but homeboy is liable to get distracted by a cute squirrel or some pretty flowers 😂 He's not great at keeping his voice down either so good conversation would make him easy to seek out. He's just out here enjoying a beautiful day 😅

Strategy | 7 - All that movie-watching (and DMing) make him a valuable creative mind for problem-solving, but he needs a cooperative team to be effective. Rescued and recruited by Rupan/Rohan early on in the game ^ ^

Winner type | Disbelief! And everyone’s content and satisfied with him winning. Except Vivian/Vincent, that jealous fool

Loser type | Doesn't mind losing at all! He just hopes he was a good teammate and was glad to have fun ☺️

Jessie

Shooting | 7 - Comes from a family of hunters, girly knows how to shoot.

Stealth | 6 - Familiar enough with woods and stalking prey to be capable of sneaking around. Having too much fun to not giggle and get overly invested in the developing plot of the game. Even more easily distracted by critters and flora than Jack 😅

Strategy | 5 - Oh, she's just here to have fun. She'll go with whatever the person she's teaming up with decides, but can adapt easily enough.

Winner type | Surprised... then elated! Bouncing and happy and it's completely contagious. No hard feelings about a single thing. Convinces Heidi to invite people to the Emerson Estate—it's a hot day and they have a nice pool

Loser type | Same as Jack! Congratulates the winner with a hug because she's sweet like that 🧁

Rain

Shooting | 2 - This... thing is so cumbersome. And ugly. At least it shoots pretty colors.

Stealth | 7 - Small and used to sneaking around different environments and seeking out hiding spots. Their height and frame makes them harder to spot too.

Strategy | 4 - Hide!!! They’re not getting assaulted with paint and pellets!! Especially not after managing to make this ugly jumpsuit look cute?? Waiting it out is perfectly legitimate. Might share snacks if you decide to join them in hiding 😆

Winner type | Falls asleep in an unexpectedly cozy hiding spot and emerges as everyone thought they’d declared the winner. I imagine R and others yelling at them to get their gun while the original winner scrambles to get theirs, just for Rain to win by pure luck of the draw. Won’t stop them bragging about it, though! (I want this spurned runner-up to be Vi bc ofc)

Loser type | "So I can stop holding this thing?" Yawn. "I'm so hungry and bored, we've been at this for hours..."

Rupan/Rohan

Shooting | 4 - Ah, shit. These don't shoot anything like light guns.

Stealth | 7 - They sneak out and around town a lot 😂 They just force themself to be careful about how loud grass and bushes are.

Strategy | 7 - They’re treating this shit like an action movie and banding together a ragtag team of misfits to take down the strongest alliances and players. Savvy enough to reject Gabe’s and Curt’s offers to join, not opposed to strategic backstabs. They're very clearly just as focused on having fun as they are on winning—and playing Predator, which honestly works with Kile runnin around. They even brought war paint and borrowed a tactical vest. Is it mostly packed with snacks and weed? Maybe. Does it prove useful for negotiations? Hell yeah.

Winner type | Raucous celebration, just pure joy and adrenaline ☺️ Celebrates with their team, brags a bit, rubs it into Vi's face, makes fun of Curt, the usual. Then invites allies out to get pizza because it's the obvious next step

Loser type | Mostly disappointed they can't keep playing. They're a little sore about being left out of the action, but soon just start chatting with other marked players about how the game went for them. Plenty entertaining on its own, they want all the details

Vivian/Vincent

Shooting | 5 - They've got a little bit of shooting experience.

Stealth | 4 - They're overly sensitive and hate being in nature. Their skin is sticky, they keep feeling bugs everywhere, they've gotten dirt all over their pants, it's so hot, they keep WALKING into SPIDERWEBS, [flails about, screaming furiously]

Strategy | 8 - They have good ideas, they're just difficult to execute alone, especially since they're getting sunburnt and getting crankier and can't stop swatting at insects 😅 they're one of the first people to figure out that someone's taking out groups from the trees, so they stay solo and try to find a single person to team up with. Really what they need is someone who's a better shot but easy to boss around. They can probably just owe them for an in-school favor...

Winner type | Barely suppressed gloating. Vi somehow finds a way to be an obnoxious winner almost entirely by the look on their face. Once they're in a smaller group, they're passionately discussing the details of the game and happily boasting about their triumphs (while glossing over all of the whining and and slip-ups lol)

Loser type | Booo, such a sore loser. (Especially in the scenario where Rain wins 🤣) If they're outsmarted or outgunned in a clear, transparent way they'll growl and stomp off, then quietly glower and sulk for way too long. If they're double-crossed or beaten in an underhanded way oh lord —they're fighting it to the end. R can't help but get involved either way, reminding them it was a damn game with literally no prize. "C'mon, Vi, chill. You want ice cream? Let's get you ice cream."

Heidi

Shooting | 6 - Some shooting experience.

Stealth | 8 - She's very aware of her surroundings and her body. Perceptive yet quiet. Tactical. All residual traits picked up from her many activities over the years.

Strategy | 9 - Most likely to outsmart everyone. The first one to figure out groups are being targeted from the trees. Goes it alone and only open to trading (unless she sees Curt with Jess in which case she puts a quick pin in her plans to rescue her 😂). She also immediately figures out it's Kile, because ofc it is. Keeps close tabs on what groups are doing, knowing that eventually Kile will come down to ground level to pick off individuals and couples. Predator becomes prey 👀

Winner type | Proud but not boasting. She doesn't need to be. Victory looks good on her, natural and fitting. Thanks everyone for a good game then takes the girls for a long ride in the Cadillac 😎 top down on a bright day, baby

Loser type | Damn. She should have won this. Maybe if she'd... She probably could have... Then she snaps out of it, roped in by the celebratory mood of congratulating the winner. She's over any feelings of frustration or regret after getting to discuss the match with the person that took her out/the winner and there's no hard feelings. If anything this was fun as hell, it should be an annual thing. ☺️

Curt

Shooting | 8 - Some shooting experience and a natural knack for it. Good reflexes.

Stealth | 8 - Curt likes to say he gets along with the woods around these parts. Sneaking around is second nature to him. Really good hearing too. He's an easy target if you manage to seduce him though, having no issue leaving himself vulnerable if it means that kind of fun 😂

Strategy | 7 - Honestly, he's most interested in seeing how long he can get away with using charm and seduction for both protection and double-crossing 😂 Eventually becomes persona non grata and gets all of his ammo stolen by a vengeful mark, barely getting away in the process. Since that jig is up, he finally starts thinking a win might be nice... and so he teams up with the only competent player who would never betray him and also inspires the least vitriol in others: Jessie. What? Is his back-up plan using her as a human shield? No! 😚 Of course not! 👉👈

Winner type | Insufferable and gloating. Rubs it in a lot of people's faces, specifically Heidi, Rupan/Rohan, and any participants who genuinely don't like him. Brags to Gabe (who is completely disinterested in gassing him up 😂), then promises he'll make things up to Jessie (who didn't mind and had fun lol). Then celebrates by asking whoever he's flirting with these days for a quick date—and a ride in the Ferrari. Makes a scene pulling out of the parking lot. Ass.

Loser type | Doesn't care one bit as long as he had fun! And he always finds a way to have fun, it's why he's so carefree 😅

[fyodorsslut]

Before you go - Dabi

REQUEST : If you write for dabi, it would be highly appreciated if you could I write some angst to fluff for him and his fem s/o who starts fighting with him out of fear he’ll lose his life if he can’t stop being reckless. He starts coming home later than usual, sometimes not even at all and she feels like he’s slowly slipping away from her. She knows he’s part of the league but Dabi has made it clear he doesn’t want her getting involved out of fear she’ll become a target. I also love you so heheheh here’s my requests bc ur a real one 😎❤️

A/n :TYY!! ILY!! I hope you like it! sorry t’s late, tumblr kept on deleting it. Also they lyrics in bold are from my own song so please don’t steal them <3

Genre : Angst

Pairings : Dabi x fem!reader

Keys : y/h/c : your hair color -- y/h/l : your hair length

Play : before you go - Lewis Capaldi

word count : 1k

 A loud, desperate gasp escaped her throat, eyes gagging tears as the girl sits upright. Running hands through her y/h/c hair, she silently sobs.

 Then it hits her.

 “D-DABI?!” she turns to the side frantically, gripping the gray sheets and pulling them off the shirtless male’s body.

 “Ugh,” he groans, rolling to lay on his back.  “It’s cold~ can you please give me-” yawning, he rubs his eyelids- “back the cover?”

 Before he gets to least as grab it from her fingers, he notices the terrified look on his girlfriend’s face.

 “Babe-? Are you o-” But she cuts him off once more, wrapping two strong arms around his neck.

 Sobbing into the purple nape of his neck, y/n continuously shook her head no. Dabi was clueless of what to do to make her feel better, seeing that he was also ignorant as of what the reason she was sobbing hysterically was.

 “P-please don’t leave” she sighed, loud enough for only him to hear. Before he was able to let relief wash over him because she stopped crying, she went into another, much worse, round of sobs.

 ____________

 “Baby please don’t leave, stay by my side here”

 ___________

 “Fuck-!!” y/n threw the phone across the room harshly, the black device colliding into the white wall of the room she shares with her absent boyfriend, probably gaining a couple new cracks on its screen.  “Where is he?”

 Y/n ran her hands through her y/h/l hair once more, in desperate frustration. It’s been three days since she has last heard from her villain boyfriend, and she could only imagine all the horrible things that could have happened to him, considering the risky nature of his job.

 “I can’t live like this anymore,” she whispered to herself and to the walls if they could hear. She crawls into the bed as would a baby, remembering all the times she would crawl on top of him before he joined the league, probably ending up either sleeping on his chest or doing things Jesus wouldn’t take much pride in.

 She, scared for his life, doesn’t know if she’ll ever see him again. All she is able to do is hope so.

   __________

 “Everyday now I’ve been missing you, needing you, wanting you”

   _________

 “Where are you going?”  

 “Y-y/n,” he turns around from the open door, startled but also careful as to keep from showing how he was obviously just jump scared by his girlfriend.

 “Dabi,” She insists. “Where are you going at a time like this?”

  “I have business to attend,” He declares, clearing his throat awkwardly.

 “Business?” she echoed; voice small. She was barely in his sight range but still the pained confusion was crystal clear on whatever he could make out of her features.

 “What you heard,” Nonchalantly, he confirms.

 “Why didn’t you tell me earlier-? I could have-”

 “Because you’d make a big fuss about it,” Cutting her off, it’s his turn to take a single long stride towards her, closing the distance between them and towering above her (sorry if you’re taller than him-!) “Just like you’re doing now.”

 Y/n was much drawn aback. Make a big fuss? Since when is caring about her boyfriend considered a big fuss?

 “Dabi- let me at least come with you- please?”

 “Y/n,” He grumbles under his breath, low but the non-existing distance between them made it easy for her to hear it along with the annoyance in his voice, to see the drop in his features as he ran long fingers across a rough face of piercings and burnt skin. “We’ve been over this a long time ago-! I can’t have pu be in a place where a target is-”

  “I don’t fucking care, Dabi-! I just want to damn protect you and you know that damn well! I just want to be there for you when you need me! Because.. Because..” her voice dies down, tongue unable to form words. She was cold, not from the breeze in the air at this time of the year but from the unforgiving fear in her heart. She was sad, not because she’s once again fighting with her lover over the same topic that shouldn’t be even up for discussion, but because she knows that if this goes on, if he dies like he might do, she won’t be there for him and guilt won’t leave her until the end of her days.

 “Why?! Y/n, why do you have to be so damn stubborn! Always make it so hard on both of us?! Why do you have to insist on changing things that were set from day one?! We are fine just how we are! Why is it so fucking hard for you to understand that I can take damn well care of my-”

  “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” She finally admits, tears streaming down her face as all the times he died in front of her in her sleep rush across her vision. He was lying, they weren’t fine. Nothing was when his life is at risk everyday of his life. She wasn’t okay with it. He wasn’t either.

 Her sudden confession sent him aback, unable to form either words or thoughts as her shout sings in his head on loop. The only thing he was able to keep steady was the crack-ful facade he always keeps on in front of everyone but her, or so he thought. It’s only now he noticed how much he wanted to stay.

 He knows he can’t, never the less.

 “Then stop loving me,” he sighed, sounding final. He would’ve said ‘I love you’ back but he knows this isn’t the time. His feelings.. This wasn’t the place to put them out, no matter how much he wanted to.

  “W-what-?” She whimpers, shakily looking up at him; face red, a miss, sad and scared and shocked and all other feelings there is to this. Tear tracks spattered across it even though she didn’t cry for long. Eyes not only shaken but so wide in shock they could be replaced by tennis balls.

 Dabi doesn’t answer, he only closes the door on his way out.

[1oserjk]

— 20 something

maybe it’s how much you try and try so hard with every passing thing you do to still end up getting absolutely nothing in return. maybe you’re just jealous.

word count: 1.1k

+ jock!jk n his athlete complex again n all he does is use his sport to shield n protect him w literally anything he does in school. also i know football is an american thing but it’s the only sport that can portray how much of a dick he is in this. this is also just oc pulling a megan n going: it’s a discrimination to nerds,, everywhere! she’s mean about it too, rightfully so.

u can associate this jk with the to be urs universe but they r kind of a confusing couple i literally actively avoid bc i have a hard time explaining their off/on situation so idk,, see it as it is i guess

x masterlist

His tongue prods the inside of his cheek with a layer of confusion settled throughout his whole expression. He actually seems hurt. “Really? I tell you some good news about me and this is what I get?”

You’re too focused on the lesson plan splayed out on your laptop screen, and honestly could care less of anything that concerned Jungkook and his blinding news right now. If you could even call it that. “Congratulations,” you dryly reply with. “Glad you had something to brag about.”

“I’m not fucking—“ His voice began to increase in volume with each second that passes and it takes him a second too late to realize he wasn’t in a place to be yelling. Not when the thin walls of your room separated you both from your uptight bitch of a roommate, especially on a grueling Friday night like this one. “—bragging,” he eventually hissed out, taking a seat right at the edge of your tiny bed.

“You’re boasting, Jungkook,” you state so obviously. Like a brat. “Anybody could have seen it the moment you waltzed in and suddenly announced you were transferring to somewhere better.”

“No,” he grits out, “I came here to let out the great fucking news I was looking forward in telling to my best friend. Maybe even say sorry for not carrying out the promise we had.”

You sigh. “That’s great, Jungkook. I’m glad.” The sincerity is barely there and your eyes are only stuck on that one problem you’ve been putting off the whole night. “But I’m not really surprised. Our plan.. it was really nothing but a thing to keep us going, you know? I honestly didn’t really think it would have happened anyway.”

“With what?” He spits in disbelief. “Moving in together? I told you we would’ve made it happen if you weren't so reluctant in—“

“With everything, Jungkook!” You irritatedly interrupt. “Everything was ideal but the thought of you actually staying for it was absolutely not happening. You’re an athlete—“ His eyes roll back dramatically, having to hear you repeat that label over him for the nth time already, “—and other universities are hungry for people like you.”

“Is that all you really think of me?” He genuinely asks, brows evidently furrowed. You probably even lied about wanting to wait out being roommates, saying you weren’t ready yet and to delay it another year. In actuality, you were just waiting for Jungkook to announce his leave. “Just a jock to you? Not even a friend?”

You don’t answer.

He sighs, “This opportunity.. This school.. I’ve worked hard for this, _____.”

You utter out a laugh and cross your arms. “Good fucking grief, Jeon.. I’m so glad somebody had the chance of seeing you on the field play the way that you did and offer you to attend somewhere far better than here just for it.”

He shrugs passively. “If you’re jealous, just say that.” And as soon as those exact words escape his mouth, your palms curl inwards and dig deep into the skin.

“You know what? Yeah, I am,” You answer, “I’m jealous that I have to compete with someone who barely tries in his grades, only to land better opportunities than me just because he can run and throw a fucking ball around.”

“It’s more than that!”

“Yes,” you drawl, “Because running to get tackled and getting concussions every week is far more complex than anyone can explain.”

All your life, it’s been failure after failure, having to prove yourself every time you were fit for whatever job or project you set yourself out to do on your own. Jungkook though? He was always so goddamn perfect. Walking in late to each of his lectures, acing the exams you stress over, and being an all-around boy for everybody to gawk at. Did he deserve it? You’re not sure. But you despised the amount of work you’ve put in for the one unforgiving person to completely erase your name and climb his own way up to the top — with ease and nothing else.

Actually, it was something you always despised. Like you were watching him get on every rollercoaster at an amusement park because he had that special pass on his neck to do so while you had to wait out through each one you wanted to ride on.

He has always been a constant mess, but fortunately for him, ever since he was capable of picking up a ball and running with it, suddenly all of his problems were cradled and taken care off with the slinky of his sport being the main support in it. His own coaches have to coax him through horrible grades and missing assignments just so that the kid wouldn’t be booted off the team.

Seeing it now, you entirely stripped all of the energy from him, any response to argue with you, any way to get rid of whatever image you plastered over him - that even convinces himself to ask if he was really someone who acted the exact way you described - it’s gone. Both hands run through his hair in absolute stress, face contorting in exhaustion.

“Can I ask you something?” Sitting up fully now, you face him with a demeaning look, that fucking face that puts him at a level below you without even realizing it. Like he means nothing to you. “What are you going to do when you graduate after? When you don’t have that chance you think you have in getting scouted for a professional league? When you’ve reached your absolute peak and have nothing left to offer? What’s going to happen next?” You taunt him. “Stick to Plan B, come back, marry, and have your kids here? Maybe apply for that coach position at our old high school and take over the former spot of being a failure?”

“You’re a bitch,” he manages to mutter, glaring at the ground before standing up to his full height and heading for the door. He should have never come and made you the first person he would tell. His friends would have threw him a party, pat him on the back and tell him he’s the fucking best. You’re too truthful for that. “And a fucking loser too,” he comments as the hinges creak.

“Yeah,” you wave, mean smile never loosening, “Have a fun celebration, Jeon. You deserve it.”

The door slams shut. 

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Damijon Secret Santa

@woahjaybird happy holidays ris!!!!!!!!!! i admit, i was a bit confused, bc you signed up for a ship fic exchange and requested platonic bros, but whatever. i hope you like it!

To be honest, it was something Damian said a lot. 

Jon heard those words practically every time Damian opened his mouth: in the middle of a mission, when they were baking pies with Ma Kent, during a stakeout, on a rooftop eating takeout. 

They used to be annoying. God, sometimes Jon just wanted to drop his restraint and punch Damian in the face, full-force. Especially when he said those words, again and again and again. Over time, though, Jon grew used to them, and after a while, they just began to amused him.

You should be afraid of me.

Because Jon never understood those words. What was there to be scared of?

The two of them were sitting on a rooftop in Metropolis, Jon with his long legs dangling over the side of the building, Damian cross-legged next to him. Taking a long slurp of his smoothie, Jon glanced over at Damian, who was outlining their plan of attack for tomorrow-- a mission to take down an arms dealer who had been working out of Metropolis for months. With Dad stretched thin over League, international, and intergalactic affairs, criminals were becoming a little less hesitant to step foot into the city. Superboy and Robin would be taking care of that soon.

Jon was listening, he really was. The battle plans were definitely lodging themselves somewhere in Jon’s subconsciousness. But he had to admit, most of his attention was fixed firmly on Damian himself.

Jon remembered the days the prickly young boy would throw his nose up haughtily in the air, state he’d been intelligent enough to have a doctorate at seven years old, and miff at anyone who insinuated otherwise. It was a far sight from when Damian had  curled himself up on Jon’s bed, and under the guise of watching a movie, told Jon about his acceptance into the most prestigious art schools in Gotham. 

And that was the reason behind Jon’s inattention, wasn’t it? Damian was eighteen, now. Their age difference didn’t seem like much when they were ten and thirteen and going against the world with all the confidence of a couple boys playing pretend. Now, Damian had a weariness in his shoulders, but lips that quirked up into a smile far too often, skin layered in scars but hands gentler than Jon ever thought he was capable of. Jon himself was a fumbling, awkward fifteen year old with jeans that were always too short, hair that was always too messy. And Jon used to think he was over feeling inferior to his best friend.

He’d miss him. Jon would miss Damian so much. Sure, Damian would probably try and keep their visits somewhat consistent, but work would pile up, and a curator would probably see Damian’s talents and whisk him away to the world of the famous artists, and Damian would forget he ever had a friend named Jon and would go on to become a household name while Jon spent the rest of his life living in his parents’ house and updating his mediocre blog that he started because of a dare.

No, he wasn’t being dramatic, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, Damian seemed to catch onto his lack of attention and snapped his fingers underneath Jon’s nose, startling him back to focus.

Never one to sugarcoat, Damian said, “You look miserable.”

“What? No, I’m fine!” Jon didn’t know why he even tried to play it off, he’d never been able to lie to Damian.

“Right. My mistake. Someone who was fine would definitely spend the past hour drinking out of a smoothie cup that’s already empty.”

Huh. Jon hadn’t even realized he’d finished the drink. He put it to the side and shook his head. “Really, it’s not a pro-oblem.” Oh, goddamnit.

“Your voice cracks are ridiculous,” Damian informed him. Why had Jon ever thought he’d changed? That smug voice was as irritating as ever.

“Yeah, they’re hilarious, thanks.”

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” Apparently, this matter was serious enough for Damian to put his map down. Wasn’t that comforting?

But Jon had never liked to keep things from his best friend. “That. That’s what’s bothering me.”

“Your voice cracks?” Now Damian just sounded confused.

“Yes! No, I don’t know. I just don’t like them.” Jon crossed his arms in frustration.

When he looked over at Damian, the other boy’s eyes were wide, and in that stupidly deep and non-cracking voice, he said, “This conversation has gone well past the point of understanding and I’m going to continue with the plan now.”

Jon sighed. “No, Damian, it’s not that.”

“Then?”

Searching for the right words, Jon drummed his fingers together. “You...you’re going off to that fancy art school soon. You’re all grown up. And here I am with my stupid video games and voice cracks.”

Jon wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting. Damian could never be called a master of social interaction, and his basic settings were sarcastic, condescending, or incredulous. Still, Jon expected something a bit kinder than:

“You’re such a moron, Jonathan.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Jon stared at Damian for a moment, blinking stupidly. “So I tell you about the problem that’s been eating me up for weeks, and all you say is that I’m a moron? Thank you so much for that.”

“I’m telling you you’re a moron because you’re worrying about something so inconsequential.”

“Oh please, do elaborate.”

Damian paused, then let out a tired sigh, turning to face Jon. This was going to be a serious conversation, then.

“Jonathan. I have told you time and time again. You should be scared of me-”

“Oh my god,” Jon interrupted. “This stuff, again?” He was laughing now. “I know, I know. You should be horrified, cower in terror underneath my ruthlessness, blah blah blah. You say it all the time, I get it. I should be scared of you.”

Damian stared at him. “Are you done?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m tired of you bringing up the same thing over and over, Damian.”

“And in saying that, you just proved my point.”

Jon frowned in confusion. “What?”

“I’ve always said that you should be afraid of me. But you never have been, not since the moment we met.”

“Like there’s anything to be scared of.”

“Yes, Jonathan. There is.” Damian looked Jon in the eye, his gaze sharp and serious.

Damian’s honesty was strange, something Jon wasn’t used to, so he tried to play it off with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, assassin training’s tough-”

“When I was six years old, I murdered a man in front of his daughter.”

Jon fell silent.

“I used to command an entire legion in my grandfather’s army. We completely destroyed and took down three different countries.”

“Damian, I-” 

“Once, Grandfather put me in a straightjacket and wrapped me in chains, surrounded by trained guards, with no instruction other than to escape. And I did.”

Hesitantly, Jon said, “I never knew.”

“Because I never told you. That, and so much more, is why everybody I ever know has been scared of me.”

“Even Nightwing?”

“Nightwing grew out of it eventually,” Damian admitted. “But everyone else. The rest of the bats. Father. Even Mother. There’s fear in their eyes when they look at me.”

“Oh. Uh,” Jon shrugged. “That sucks.”

“That sucks?” Damian said, dry but amused.

“I didn’t know what else to say!” Jon defended.

“See? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “You’ve been trying to tell me it sucks? Because I already knew it sucks.”

“Jonathan…” Damian trailed off, then grabbed Jon’s wrists with his own hands.

“Hey!” Jon protested, though only out of surprise. Because Damain’s hands were warm and his thumb was pressing down on Jon’s pulse point and Jon could honestly say he had no objection to this.

Damian’s face showed nothing but piercing intensity: brows furred and eyes locked on Jon’s own. “Jon. Look me in the eyes, and tell me you’re scared of me.”

“But I’m not?”

“I just told you things that would have grown men running away from me in terror. Tell me at least some of that scares you.”

“No,” Jon shook his head and gripped the other’s boy’s wrists back. “No. I’m not scared of you.”

Letting out a breath, Damian moved away. For a moment, Jon found himself chasing that warmth.

“You are the only person who’s ever thought that.” Damian turned, shifting to mirror Jon’s position. Staring out over the city, a billboard washed colours over Damian’s face. He looked like a work of art, and Jon had no idea how anybody could ever fear him.

“You’re my best friend, Damian.” Jon shrugged, despite the fact that Damian couldn’t see him. “I’ve seen you scream at a machine for losing at Cheese Viking. I’ve seen you befriend a little squirrel you found on Ma’s farm. So how exactly am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

Damian nodded, as if that solidified something. “If you really think that I would leave the only person that isn’t scared of me, if you think that I would stop being friends with someone who has always thought of me as a human first and a weapon second just because I’m going to a university, then you are the biggest moron to ever walk the face of the earth.”

Stunned, Jon moved to sit next to Damian. “Oh.”

Jon had always been aware of their height difference, made plenty of jokes about it, but it really struck him how much smaller Damian was when the older boy turned to look up and smile at him. “So stop worrying, okay Kent? It’s unbecoming.”

“Whatever you say,” Jon acquiesced. 

Damian wasn’t leaving for good. Damian, with his burning green eyes and molten beauty, still wanted to be friends with him. 

With a smile on his face, Jon turned to look out at the city, letting the quiet wash over him. At his side, Damian did the same. A huge thank you to @iamwhelmed for organizing the secret santa this year!!

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation  @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow  @iconbicon

[samwrights]

Pining After You [hc]

Just some Haikyuu!! head cannons about my favorites pining after the object of their affection—you. I’m gonna limit myself to only one Seijoh 3rd year >_> instead, I’m just gonna make Makki’s super long bc love.

I might turn these into one shots. I’m planning a special series to be released for the entire month of May—let me know what you guys think!

Hanamaki;

Ya know, with my last head cannon, I had such a hard time writing for Makki and now that’s all I wanna do.

Cause THIS BOI is too easy-going, too cool, to ever be blunt and up front about his feelings for you. He can’t ruin his image by stumbling over a confession.

Definitely has been in love with you since your guys’ first year—all thanks to your laugh.

Every time he hears you, even if said laugh is occasionally broken with a gentle, genuine snort, Makki feels every single electrical pulse being sent into his nerve endings.

It was a huge part of the reason that he had started owning the class clown trope, cracking jokes with his peers and even the teachers even though that definitely was not kosher. But his almost dry, sarcastic sense of humor always seemed to be rewarded with the angelic gift that was your laughter.

But he doesn’t know how to talk to you. At all.

He tries really hard not to stare at you, or at least tries not to make it super obvious and fails considering you sit on the opposite ends of the classroom

Makki always has lunch in Mattun’s classroom just so he can freely talk about something you did in class that made him laugh or smile, even if it was something stupid like you dropped your pencil or you raised your hand to answer a question.

In your third year, Mattsun is tIRED of it all.

“Just go fucking confess your feelings, I swear to gOD, or I’ll tell her.”

“Dude no, I can’t she’s way outta my league.”

Did I mention Mattsun is over it? So over it that one day, instead of waiting for his best friend to come to his classroom for lunch, he decides to pay yours a visit.

Makki’s freaking out because the fCK was Mattsun walking over to your desk?!

“She’s coming to our tournament this weekend, so bring your A game.” Was all he said before leaving the poor wing spiker to drown in the blood rising up his neck.

You weren’t friends with anyone on the VBC, but you did actually end up at the tournament with a few friends.

Exhilarating was the only way to describe it, up until Seijoh’s loss to Karasuno.

After the team thanked the spectators for watching, you noticed all the third years crying, signifying the end of their careers.

“Thank you for inviting me to watch, Matsukawa. It was really fun.” You said politely, approaching them afterwards.

Mattsun shoves his best friend towards you, “actually, he wanted to invite you. He just didn’t know how.”

Makki.exe has stopped working. He’s too busy spluttering because he literally has no idea what to say to you now. Cool boy? Not even close.

“I’ve actually wanted to come to one of your matches for awhile. I just thought it was weird because I’m not friends with any of you.”

Oh. O H.

“Y-you could’ve asked me...”

“I was hoping you’d ask me. Why do you think I always laugh at your jokes, Hanamaki?”

“Wait, does that mean you don’t think I’m actually funny?” 💀💀💀 Rip.

“I do. You’re funny, talented, handsome, and I’ve liked you since first year.”

Makki.exe has stopped working.

Akaashi;

Akaashi has studied everything he could about you without ever having actually interacted with you.

He knew you were in Bokuto’s class, he knew your name, and that the two of you interacted often, but never outside of the classroom.

He knew that you always carried your school bag over your left shoulder, and tucked your hair behind your right ear when you felt it was in your face.

Your energy somehow matched his best friend’s while simultaneously calming the owl captain like a gentle wave. You reminded Akaashi of the sun rising over the ocean.

Bokuto, oblivious to nearly everything, never realized that his best friend’s calculations went beyond analyzing the ace. One small section of his brain was dedicated to your ass.

Really, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about you, or at least that’s how you felt about yourself. But every time Akaashi swung by Bokuto’s class to walk with him to practice, his eyes were immediately drawn to you for .067 seconds before he’d look away, so as not to make you feel uncomfortable.

Once in a while, Bokuto would let small details about you slip, like how you were in the art club and that you had a showcase coming up displaying the portfolio you had built over the last three years.

He definitely didn’t ditch practice to be there for your showcase.

Showing up to the venue where the showcase was being held, he suddenly felt very under dressed seeing other third years and teachers adorning formal attire while he showed up in black jeans and a grey button up.

Wandering around the venue, Akaashi looked for you or your artwork, his breath held in his lungs when he saw the arsenal of works displayed on large black boards with your name written elegantly at the very top. Made with various mediums, he was stunned by different paintings and drawings of surreal, exquisite landscapes that could not possibly exist.

Then again, he didn’t think you were real either.

One particular painting invoked a strange emotion in him—a large, desecrated shipwreck amongst of field of bright flowers with the sun setting in the back. Titled “Crack The Sky”, the piece emanated joy and grief in one. It was almost as stunning as you were.

“This one’s my favorite.” You announced sheepishly from beside him and he realized he had never heard your voice before. The setter turned to look at you, drinking in your appearance up close for the first time. “You’re Bokuto’s friend, aren’t you? Akaashi?”

He was kinda hurt to hear you mention Bokuto for reasons unknown to himself jealous much?

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” He bows slightly, remember that no matter how infatuated he was with you, you were still his senpai.

He began walking with you as you explained the creation process of your different pieces. Not that he was actually paying attention, though he’d never admit that. He just liked hearing you talk and he would definitely never admit that.

You excuse yourself as your phone rings, though you don’t walk away, allowing him to hear your end of the conversation. “Yep, he’s here. I owe you dinner. You wanna talk to him?” Akaashi cocks a brow in your direction, staring at your cellphone that you’ve now held over to him. Bokuto’s name flashed on the screen.

“Uh, hi?” The setter asked, confused.

“I made a bet with her that you would ditch practice to go to her showcase because yOu LoVe HeR.”

Aight, imma head out.

Before he could run away out of embarrassment, you grabbed his wrist though you were still on the phone with Bokuto.

“Would you like to join us for dinner? Seems kinda unfair for him to get dinner when you’re the one who made the effort to be here.”

Akaashi graciously accepts to which you respond by telling Bokuto where you would meet him for the evening.

“So you love me, huh?” 💀💀💀 If Akaashi could magically disappear, he would. Or even better, if his blush ran hot enough to melt the skin off his face, that’d be great too.

But you never let go of his wrist until now, opting to wrap an arm around his instead.

“I like you too. Why do you think Bokuto and I made a bet about you coming here, silly?”

Kenma;

Poor Kenma. The worst part of his whole situation was actually being friends with you, knowing he would never get to have you.

Why would you want him, anyway? You were more fit for someone like Kuroo—someone who was as boisterous and confident as you were. He anticipated the day you two announced your relationship and left him behind in your little trio.

Not even Kuroo knew that he was in love with you and maybe that was a mistake on his part but he could never tell his best friend that you were his entire world. It was too embarrassing for him.

It took entirely too much energy to even sort through his feelings alone, how much more exhausting would it be for him to run through every single thing he felt about you to someone else?

Like the way you would nearly skip out your home every morning when the boys came to fetch you to walk to school together.

Or the way you unabashedly asked almost too personal of questions, or questions that were just soooo left field of you were friends with a person. “Hey Kuroo, how many brushes do you think you would break if you finally decided to brush your hair after 17 years?” Was one of Kenma’s favorites.

The way you sing along to every song that plays on your iPod or even the radio, even if you didn’t know the song, you would try to sing along anyway.

Some days, Kenma would look out the window and see you practicing some form of a dance routine in your backyard. He would watch you for hours until you went inside, suddenly feeling shame for being so creepy.

Nearly every night, Kenma just wished he could turn his feelings off while simultaneously wishing you were next to him so he could hold you while he slept.

Your smile was his favorite. Seeing you smile every morning as the three of you walked to school together was what got him through his day. “Hey, hey are you guys coming to my dance competition tomorrow?” You asked in your typical, jovial lilt.

“Of course.” Was all he was able to reply, while Kuroo enthusiastically responded about their attendance.

“Great! I can’t wait to see you guys in the crowd!”

The “C” word, was almost enough to make Kenna regret his decision to come. Even more so when he was surrounded by the masses, all waiting to watch their respective dance teams. But it was for you, and he would do anything for you.

Kuroo was right beside him, a small bouquet of roses in his hand to give to you after you competed. The blood red flowers made Kenna glower and glare in secret, or as secretive as he could be. “I got these for you.” The captain says quietly, handing them over to his best friend.

“Sorry, Kuroo, I can’t say I return your feelings—“

“For you to give to her, you idiot.” 🤡🤡🤡 “I’m not that dumb, Kenma.” The setter really wanted to argue and say that he was, but your school’s dance team was up to perform so he opted to stay quiet.

Have I mentioned that Kenma loves watching you dance? There was a reason he would watch you practice in your backyard. You moved with elegance and grace that was foreign and so opposite to his own demeanor, it was no wonder he was always so captivated by you.

After you compete, there’s a bit of downtime between the other competitors and the awards ceremony, giving you the chance to hang out with your besties.

“These are for you.” The second year says quietly, handing you the bouquet with a blush dusting over his cheeks. The red rivaled that of the roses.

“Aw, thank you, Kenma!” You squeaked out before giving him a kiss on the cheek, his skin burning even hotter. Kuroo’s just over there laughing but ya know.

During the awards ceremony, you’re sitting in a circle with your team not too far from your friends while they announced that Nekoma had taken first. Everyone in the dance troupe began screaming and hugging each other, while you ran straight to your boys.

While still jumping, you were hugging Kuroo so tight, arms squeezing around his neck while sharing the joy. Which made Kenma just a little bit jealous.

Just a little.

Until you’ve settled down from your jumping before wrapping your arms his neck as well. But rather than going for a hug—

Wait what is hAPOENING

You brought your lips to his briefly before burying your face into his neck out of embarrassment because wHY you had thought that was a good idea was beyond you.

Deciding you couldn’t just keep holding onto him, because he was probably embarrassed too, you stepped away, ready to run back to your team. But Kenma didn’t let go, his arms seated securely at your hips as he stared at you.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know w-w—“

“I love you.”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

[cosbeans]

The fact that when i started playing league i forced myself to learn jhin only bc he looked cool (and the voice escusimi) and now i've been playing him for so long that i am mentally incapable of learning how to play another adc (so everytime jhin gets banned i dodge :"))) u-u he really made me obsessed with him hhh (so much that i felt obligated to buy all of his skins °-°) help

gnmdnGNSMD AHH MOOD

i usually only play jhin when i fill in adc, hes so funnnn