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echoe-back-from-the-void · 2 years ago

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Greg Lestrade x Y/N

The doctors said walking would be good for my health after the accident so I got three impound dogs to keep the habit. Sometimes the walks were only around the block and then some days I felt like I had walked half way across London and back.

"Boys! Back up or I can't open the door." I said laughing as lucky was standing between my legs, wagging with enough force it felt like a earthquake. "Okay okay!" I pushed him back lightly and opened the door with a smile as they began to reach new levels of excitement. The dogs flooded out and the only thing holding them back was three leather leashes I had wrapped tightly around my free hand. I locked the door back up and the dogs began pulling me in the direction away from home.

Not too far I spotted a familiar silhouette of Detective Inspector Lestrade. The dogs noticed too and began to bark and jump excitedly. He turned and smiled when he saw me.

"Y/N, daily walk I see." When I was close enough he bent down to pet the dogs and give them compliments. Lucky licked him and Greg chuckled and I giggled.

"Doc says they're good for me. And how can I resist spending time with my boys. They always take me somewhere new." I said in joy while petting Barnaby who was the calmest of the bunch as he sat by my side. "It's always nice to see you on these walks." I said giving a closed eyes smile. My cheeks felt warm and I tried to ignore the small butterflies.

"It's lovely to see my favorite boys, but sadly I'm on another case."

"Off to see Sherlock I bet." I said without malice. I had run into him once or twice during the mans comings and goings. He deduced me from the start and most people would be impressed or insulted but I smiled. I held no anger or emotion for how he saw me. It was endearing in a way for him to see so much. Like knowing your secrets are safe. He wasn't judgmental either.

"Yeah, I'd avoid it if I could." Lestrade said in response.

"Don't be like that. You are a brilliant person in your own right. Your smart and intelligent and funny. Your a lot of things. Just because you ask for help on cases doesn't make you dumb." I said sternly before sighing while I reigned in my emotions. "Sherlock is a genius and it never hurts to have his help. The sooner you catch the bad guys the sooner everyone is safer, right?" I tilted my head and smiled.

"I feel safer just knowing that the Detective Inspector Lestrade is on the case." I admitted proudly. "I'll leave you to it. Always wonderful to see you." I turned and didn't give him time to respond as I walked past him. When I was at his back I quickly fanned my face as I tried to keep down a blush.

I looked down at my dogs and barnaby was giving me knowing looks. "Don't you start! You've been eyeing up the poodle three streets down." I scolded.

With Lestrade.

Lestrade shook his head with a soft smile and a light blush before he slapped his face and settling into a stern expression. He continued walking further where you came from until he was at the door of the one and only Sherlock Holmes. Forgoing the knocker entirely he opened the door and set off up the stairs. His steps not trying to be light as he entered the apartment of the famous detective.

When the door was opened, Lestrade looked toward Sherlock and found it odd that he was standing by the window. The violin in his pale grasp but unplayed. Watson also in his chair and looking confused as well.

"Sherlock I need your help on a case. There's been a few murders—" Lestrade's words were cut off by the screech of a violin.

"She loves you." Sherlock said after ending the screeching noise.

"Sorry?" Lestrade asked dumbly.

"Y/N." Sherlock said it like it was so simple. But everything came simply to the brilliant genius.

"Couldn't possibly, we don't even know each other that well. Only met a couple times in passing."

"Now that's where your wrong. Every time you come over you stall at the store on the corner before coming. Not because you have to but just so if she is walking her dogs that the two of you will run into each other. You always wear a special cologne when you come to me for a case. And unless your trying to court John or myself then it's for Y/N."

"That doesn't mean she likes me. We just stop an chat, is that so unusual? So what if I wear nice cologne."

"Loves not likes." Sherlock commented.

"She doesn't." Lestrade argued while crossing his arms and Sherlock made a show of shutting the open window. "You were eavesdropping weren't you?! That's disrespectful of her privacy you can't just do that!" Lestrade said getting uncomfortably angry.

"Every time you two talk she always compliments you and smiles more. I dare heard her giggle. Did you hear her giggle John? That is the sound of a woman in love."

"That was a giggle." John Watson said from his chair with a mischievous grin. "She loves you. But you should probably act fast."

"What why?!" Lestrade asked and he could feel his heart pinching.

"Two weeks ago she had a balled up napkin with a phone number on it. And seeing as how she hasn't brought anyone to her flat or left wearing something nicer then her casual clothes, then we can assume she and the mystery man haven't talked yet. You might still have a chance if you don't screw it up." Sherlock said moving to sit in his chair.

Lestrade wavered and walked to sit on the couch that was usually reserved for clients. "What do I do?"

"What you can start by doing is admitting you like her back." Sherlock said absently.

"Of course I like her! She's got this smile that makes me warm and her laugh... she's so kind and always has nice things to say about people, even the barmy people. She's beautiful and smart and so funny. She once told me a joke and I laughed till my sides hurt." Lestrade said excitedly with a lovey dovey smile.

"We know. We heard it from here." John said giving the cop a friendly smile. "You should ask her out."

"She likes long walks, obviously, her favorite food is tomato soup. She likes these flowers and you have about an hour before she gets back. Also, arrest the baker he's the murderer. Now go, you only have an hour."

Hour later.

Y/N turned the corner to her street fully rejuvenated from her walk and smiling. What surprised her was Lestrade sitting on a park bench with flowers and food.

"Lestrade? Dontcha have a case going on?" I asked in confusion. Who did he buy flowers for?

"Well Sherlock already cracked it and I was working on another case at one of the nearby resturants and got hungry but I ordered too much to go so I was wondering if you'd like to share it. We can eat it at the park or your flat. Wherever your most comfortable and I got you—I got you these." Lestrade picks the flowers up from the bench.

"He told you." I said while taking the flowers to smell.

"Well yeah, I mean no! No he did not." Lestrade said while scratching the back of his neck.

"It's okay." I smiled and snorted a little. "For a detective your not exactly observant." I said in jest before looping my arm through his free arm. "Let's go to my flat, Detective inspector." When we passed 221b I looked up at the window upstairs and met eyes with the cold genius.

My lips formed into a genuine smile and I nodded to the man and he responded back.

Turning back to Lestrade I smiled and spoke. "You'll have to remind me to thank Sherlock properly."

"Thank Sherlock?"

"You see I've liked you for a very long time but unfortunately as bubbly as I seem. I have a very hard time confronting my feelings. I'm sure Sherlock used the words 'loves not likes'. You're part of the reason I named this big boy lucky. He's my lucky charm because the first time I met you was the same day I got him. I may be forward to ask this but you buying me dinner and flowers means you intend to pursue me?" I looked up at him.

"For as long as you'll let me."

"That sir will be a very long time. I happen to find you charming, funny, and the right kind of gentleman." I leaned up and slipped a kiss on his jaw. "And you have me completely enamored." I giggled at the glowing blush on his face.

(This made me very happy and I loved writing it. Lestrade from BBC Sherlock is just so cute to me. Makes me all happy, you know? Because we all have that one character that makes us go BRRRRRR.)

#sherlockbbc #detective lestrade #bbc sherlock #i am sherlocked #detective inspector Lestrade #sherlock imagine #gregory lestrade

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

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I Can’t Say Anything to Your Face

Summary: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Content: Fluff (1 use of a$$)

Author’s Note: The idea of for this came from @shemarmooresfedora for giving Spencer compliment cards

Word Count: 2.6 K

I Can't Say Anything To Your Face

When Spencer checks his watch for the twelfth time that day, he can practically feel Derek’s eyes roll. He tries to cover up his action by picking at his sleeve, but that just seems to draw attention to the situation. Derek raises his eyebrows at Spencer, as if to tell him, I saw that.

When it comes to teasing Spencer, Derek doesn’t miss a beat.

The team, minus Derek and Spencer, continue to work diligently. JJ walks back and forth from her office to Hotch’s, constantly shuffling through piles and piles of paperwork. Emily seems to keep herself busy with the 33 tabs that she has open on her screen. Y/N, who’s tongue slips out of her teeth in concentration, doesn’t look up from her mound of case files. Spencer likes studying how each of the members of his team works, but he particularly likes to watch Y/N. She always sticks her tongue out when she’s deep in thought. Sometimes she’ll close her eyes and rub the butt of her palm against them. Other times she’ll push her glasses up on top of her head and her hair frames her face perfectly. Spencer couldn’t care less what she looked like or how she wore her hair, but watching her was his favorite part of the day.

In a totally platonic, non-creepy way.

A beep distracts Spencer from being distracted by Y/N. It’s an IM from Derek, telling him something to the effect of asking Y/N out. Instead of responding, Spencer decides to send Derek a more direct message. He shuts off his computer, which isn’t really used, besides for Y/N to send Spencer requests for online scrabble.

Spencer, ignoring Derek’s gloating, walks from the bullpen into the team’s lunch room. It’s a small kitchenette with a couple tables, a very old coffee machine, and an even older refrigerator. Peeking into the refrigerator, Spencer takes out two lunch boxes. One is light green with patterned purple and orange dinosaurs all over and the other is a light blue with green plants. Like clockwork, Y/N rounds the corner with a smile plastered to her face.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Spencer asks, placing his lunch box down across from Y/N’s seat.

“It’s just my favorite time of day,” Y/N responds, unzipping her bag and taking out her banana, water bottle, granola, and turkey sandwich.

Spencer tries to hold back his smile at Y/N saying that lunch is her favorite time of day. He likes to believe that it’s because of him and not because of the top tier kitchen facility the government provides for them. But who’s he kidding, there’s no way that lunch is Y/N favorite part of the day because of Spencer when he’s up against a crappy coffee maker.

“Did you know that sandwiches were only called sandwiches because the Earl of Sandwich ate his meals with bread, meat and cheese like modern day sandwiches? However, there’s much debate if sandwiches existed prior to this. Researchers actually believe that sandwiches were simply referred to as bread and meat or bread cheese, depending on the ingredients. There’s hundreds of works of literature that help to determine this,” Spencer says, as he unwraps his leftovers from dinner the previous night.

Y/N, who takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, listens intently to Spencer’s oral history of sandwiches. She starts to respond to Spencer, but before she can even get the chance, Derek interjects into the conversation.

“Hold your horses, there Reid,” Derek says, his voice tainted with sarcasm and Spencer braces himself for a clipping comment, “you don’t want to scare away the newbie,”

Y/N, ever quick witted, rolls her eyes dramatically at Derek. She gets up and moves her seat closer to Spencer who’s heart rate, at the thought of her sitting even closer to him, speeds up. He knows that it's just an effort to tease Derek. That she'd rather suffer next to Spencer, than to have to entertain the idea of sitting next to Derek. But still, Spencer is a dreamer; he'd like to think she'd sit next to him even without the added bonus at avoiding Derek's playful teasing.

“Derek, leave Spencer alone, I happen to adore his facts. You know, I’ve seen I’ve been here I’ve been a Jeopardy beast. And when are you going to realize that I’m not a newbie, I’ve been here for what 2 years-”

“2 years, 4 months, and 4 days,” Spencer says, cursing himself silently for interrupting Y/N.

Derek grabs his lunch from the refrigerator, and sits down across from Spencer and Y/N.

“You remember the day I started?” Y/N asks, turning her attention from Derek to Spencer, whose face is twisted in what he can only assume is an extremely unattractive deer-in-head-lights look. He shrugs off Y/N’s comment, as if to say it’s just normal for him.

"Of course I do, I remember how long each of us has been here,"

"Oh, right. Eidetic Memory," Y/N mumbles, almost like she's slightly disappointed in something.

Suddenly Spencer’s mouth is quite dry; he reaches into his lunch bag to grab his water bottle, but his fingers brush across a small card taped to the outside. Forgetting that showing the card to Morgan would give him enough ammunition for the rest of day, Spencer quickly scans the card. It’s a small piece of paper, but it suddenly has become Spencer’s most treasured object. More than the set of Chaucer tales that his mother gave him, or Gideon’s watch, or his first microscope that his biology teacher in high school gave him at his graduation.

The one side of the card is decorated in small hearts and there’s a sketch of a dinosaur on the other side. In careful handwriting, the giver of the card wrote “Are you made of Nickel, Cerium, Arsenic, and Sulfur? Because you got a NiCe AsS!”

Spencer’s eyes grow a couple sizes once his brain registers the meaning of the card. Handling it less than gracefully, he chokes on his water, which catches Derek and Y/N’s attention.

“You okay there, Spence?’ Derek asks, questioning what sent Spencer coughing and choking on water like that.

Spencer, not wanting Y/N or Derek, especially Derek, to read the card, attempts to put it in the front pocket of his lunch box. Unfortunately, Derek catches sight of the card and snatches it out of Spencer’s hand.

“Derek!” Spencer whines.

He can feel his embarrassment deepen as Morgan’s smile grows. Spencer seriously thinks that this is how he’s going to die. His death, being in his line of work, is something that plagues his thoughts from time to time, but any gory hero’s death pales in comparison to Derek Morgan reading Spencer’s love notes about his ass.

“Nice ass? I’m not too sure about this, Reid, but looks like your secret lover likes your ass just as much as your brains,” Derek teases, handing back Spencer his card.

“Those are private,” Spencer says, grateful that Derek’s going to leave him alone, places the card back in it’s temporary resting spot near his driver’s license and photographs of him and Y/N at the arcade.

“Hey man, I was just going to put in that shoe box you have tucked under your desk, you must have hundreds of them by now,” Derek says, taking a bite of his ham and cheese wrap. His eyes dash between Spencer and Y/N, like the pair of them is the most entertaining reality show he could think of.

“I have 645, now,” Spencer says, unable to help himself much to Derek’s amusement. Spencer hears the chair next to him screech and Y/N rushes to pack up her half eaten lunch.

“I completely forgot, Anderson needs me to uh, help him with something,” Y/N says, stuffing her water bottle into her lunch box in a flustered state. Spencer watches as she rushes, her need to leave the kitchenette quite evident. Spencer is left wondering why she has to go see Anderson, of all people.

“Anderson? What does he want with you? I don’t remember Hotch saying anything about that,” Spencer says, his voice comes off a little more bitter than he indented.

“Maybe Anderson has some extracurriculars that he needs Y/N’s help with Spencer,” Derek says with a wink. Spencer’s brow tightens and his blush deepens as if he’s trying to decipher the way that Derek’s voice is laced with suggestion. The only logical conclusion is that Y/N is flustered because she’s sneaking off to see Anderson, because she likes him.

Y/N likes Anderson? Something about that doesn’t taste right in Spencer’s mouth.

Like the wind, Y/N is gone and all that remains is Derek’s sly chuckle.

“What!” Spencer says, much too loud for him to continue the coy and unassuming demeanor he usually produces when Y/N gets hit on at the bar or on case by local cops.

“Nothing, Reid. You're just clueless. Just think about how many of those little compliment cards you’ve gotten,” Derek says. He reaches into Spencer’s lunch box and takes his brownie. Usually, Spencer would have protested, but Derek’s words sent him into a confused spiral.

“645,” Spencer responds.

“Okay,” Derek continues, “645 days you’ve gotten those cute little cards in your lunch box or taped to your hotel room door on cases. Now, Reid think. How many years, months, and days, is 645 days”

“That’s 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days,” Spencer starts, “now given if it’s a Leap Year that could change it a little bit bit-”

“Think about it Reid,” Derek says, talking slowly to get the words sink in and hoping that he doesn’t have to spell it out for him.

“Y/N?” Spencer asks, kind of like he can’t believe it, but desperately wants to believe it at the same time.

“Y/N,” Derek repeats, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long, Reid. She’s been making eyes at you the day she’s gotten here. It’s almost sickening to watch you to dance around each other,”

“Y/N,” Spencer says, it’s like he’s saying her name for the first time. It’s the most beautiful string of syllables to ever come from his lips.

Spencer pushes back the chair and swings the door open. As he walks to Y/N’s desk he gets distracted by the little brown shoe box that sticks out slightly from under his desk. He crouches down and picks it up, hoping that it can be helpful. He approaches Y/N’s desk, but JJ stops him before he can go closer.

“Stairwell,” Is all she says before she brushes past with an armful of case files. Spencer, heading JJ’s advice, practically runs to the stairwell. As he approaches he can hear quiet sobs, which he can only imagine are Y/N’s.

Spencer opens the door and Y/N, startled, stands up and tries to mop the tears away from her face.

“Spencer, oh god, I didn’t know you were here, I’m okay, it’s just me being a little silly,” she says, trying to laugh through what she can only assume is going to be rejection.

“I really hope you don’t think these are silly, well some are kind of silly, but others were very poetic,” Spencer says, taking a step forward and gesturing with the shoe box to make it obvious to Y/N that he’s talking about the compliment cards.

“What are you talking about, Spencer?” Y/N says, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You're much too smart to play dumb,” Spencer says, moving closer to Y/N so he can wipe her tear-stricken face with the sleeve of his soft cardigan. He tries not to focus on the way that Y/N seems to melt into his touch. He knows that if he can get another touch of that, he’ll never want to touch another person ever again.

“I’m not playing dumb, Spence. I just never planned for you to find out,” Y/N mumbles. Spencer’s face resembles a mix between shock and confusion.

“Why would you not tell me, I don’t think I made it anything but obvious that I’m crazy about you,” Spencer says, deeply wondering why Y/N would ever hide something like this from him.

“God Spencer, have you ever looked in a mirror?” Y/N asks him, sitting down on the third step, “you’re so gorgeous, Spencer, I can’t say anything to your face. So the next best thing was to write down everything that I wanted to say to you,” Y/N finishes, a little embarrassed. She tries to hide that embarrassment by not making eye contact with Spencer, who sits down next to her.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Spencer asks, not entirely sure that he heard her correctly.

Y/N peaks at him with teary eyes and a runny nose. Spencer thanks science and the universe for his Eidetic Memory. He knows that there won’t be a single day of his life that he won’t want to think back to this day and remember the way that Y/N looked when she first told him that she thinks he’s gorgeous.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever seen,” Y/N says breathily, her voice laced with restraint. She’s terrified of rejection, terrified that Spencer will turn her down still.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Spencer says, equally as quiet and equally as terrified. He notices that Y/N’s hand creeps closer to his. Spencer is itching to intertwine it to his and never let go.

“You deserve to hear it more often, hence the cards,” Y/N explains, moving her hand even more closer to Spencer’s. He has no choice but to wrap his much larger one in Y/N’s smaller one.

“You meant it, right?” Spencer asks, bravely putting her heart out there on the line, “because if you did Y/N, that I’d really like to kiss you right now. But if you didn’t then that’s-”

Spencer tries to finish the sentence, to give Y/N an out, but somehow she doesn’t take it. Somehow she decides to kiss him.

Spencer has kissed a total of three people in his entire life, but none of them ever mattered again the second he feels Y/N’s lips against his and her hands in his hair. Spencer doesn’t complain when Y/N starts to set the pace. Her lips roam across his face. They venture across his jaw, up closer to his nose and then back down to his lips. Spencer had no clue Y/N can kiss like this. It's a little passionate for a first kiss, but maybe it's just the pent up tension and frustration 2 years in the making finally being let out. He's dreamt of the way that Y/N's pillowy lips would feel when they were finally pressed up against his. Spencer, from the fibers that make him up to the hormones that surge throughout his body, tries to be brave. He places his hands so they rest on Y/N’s neck. He’s not passive, but he’s happy to sit back and let Y/N have her way as she continues her feverish assault on his lips.

Her ministrations are interrupted, however, when the box of cards falls from Spencer’s lap. It seems to remind both of them that they are in the stairwell of the FBI making out like over zealous teenagers for the first time. Y/N lets out a small giggle. Spencer wishes he can write down the feeling it gives him and tuck it away safely in a shoe box.

“I hope you know that those compliments aren’t platonic, Spencer. I really do think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Y/N says, her fingers gravitating to the brown curls behind Spencer’s ears. He has the softest, silkiest hair she’s ever felt.

“That’s a good thing, Y/N, because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,”

Standing up, Y/N winks and pecks Spencer on the cheek, “I hate to break it to you, darling, but I think I win when it comes compliments,”

--Thank you for reading--

Taglist (Comment & I'll Happily Add You)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader one shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader happy ending #criminal minds fanfiction

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lunar-wandering · 3 years ago

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Delirium

@smallpwbbles happy birthday, take some delirious Wukong-

Word Count: 2k

Read on Ao3

MK paused in a mixture of shock, horror, and awe as he took in the sight before him.

Pigsy had his head in his hands, looking for all the world like he was totally done with the situation. Tang was standing beside him, trying to hide his increasingly obvious laughter. Mei had no such qualms, and was laughing out loud, practically on the verge of literally rolling around on the floor. Red Son stood next to her, holding up Mei's phone, which seemed to be recording, the fire demon trying desperately to look neutral to the situation, but a small smirk on the edge of his lips betrayed him, revealing his amusement. Sandy stood slightly off to the side, holding a blanket, ready to step in at any time.

And Macaque stood ramrod straight, appearing to be somewhere between 'embarrassed' and 'would somebody please strike me down already'- as Wukong leaned against him, saying a series of sloppily put together compliments.

MK took a deep breath, speed-running all five stages of grief in under an instant. (Possibly a new record for him.)

"I left. For five minutes." He said, taking note of how some places on the deck seemed to be dented, and was that smoke coming from over there? "How, exactly, did things end up like this?"

He received no answer, the others having jumped and turned to stare at him when he had spoken, having not noticed his return.

...Wait, where did Wukong-

"MK." Wukong said, and MK did his best not to jump as the delirious Monkey King appeared beside him out of nowhere and put a hand on MK's shoulder. "My, my dear su- ......succulent.....?"

"Successor." MK corrected, trying to ignore how the others were barely restraining their laughter. (Macaque, at least, looked somewhat sympathetic, but he also looked far more grateful for the fact that Wukong's attention had shifted away from him.)

"That's, yes. That's the word, yes." Wukong said, before grabbing hold of MK's cheeks, squishing them a little as he made sure MK was looking at him. "I am so proud of you."

"...Thanks?" MK said, questionably, pulling himself out of Wukong's grip. Wukong briefly glanced at his hands, seemingly confused as to where his successor had gone. "Monkey King- I'm right here. You should really be resting, until whatever this is gets out of your system-"

"Red Son!" Wukong exclaimed, the aforementioned fire demon making an audible noise of terror, slipping to hide behind Mei as Wukong spun around to face him-

Only to trip over his own two feet, slamming into the deck, denting it ever so slightly.

...For about the twenty-third time that day.

Sandy took this as his time to move forwards, gently laying the blanket down on top of Wukong, before announcing that he was going to try and make some more healing tea, (Wukong had dumped the first pot of it over the side of the ship, claiming that it was 'too bitter', 'wouldn't work anyways', and complaining that it didn't 'taste like peaches'), and the river demon left, going back down inside of the airship, leaving the others without his calming presence.

"...Okay guys, while Monkey King is....asleep..." MK wasn't even actually sure if Wukong was asleep, but he'd stopped moving and had become utterly silent since slamming into the deck, so- "I suggest we make it so that he doesn't hurt himself or us with anything on the ship."

"What, are you suggesting we should baby-proof the entire ship?" Pigsy asked.

"...More like 'Monkey King-proof', but yes, actually, that is exactly what I am suggesting." MK said, "We're going to need to cover all of our bases-"

"Uh, kid?" Macaque interrupted, grabbing MK's attention by lightly tapping on his shoulder. "If you're going to Monkey King-proof the ship, you uh, might want to start with the railing."

He pointed to the edge of the ship, and MK followed his gaze to see-

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." MK said, just catching the barest, tiniest glimpse of Wukong, wearing the blanket around his shoulders like a cape, leaping over the side of the ship. "That's the fifth time he's done that today."

It wasn't all that hard to find him again. All they had to do was follow the destruction a delirious, overpowered monkey leaves behind.

Or at least, that was MK, Mei, and Macaque's strategy, up until they stumbled upon a perfectly normal, entirely untouched clearing.

"...What do we do now?" Mei asked, and Macaque made to give an answer-

Only to have to jump back, barely avoiding being impaled as Wukong suddenly appeared out of the surrounding woods, carrying a rather large tree. He had twigs, leaves, and dirt all throughout his fur. The blanket was seemingly missing, but neither MK, Mei, nor Macaque really wanted to find out where it had gone. The group of three took a cautious step back as Wukong locked eyes with them.

"Wanna see how up I can lift this tree?" He said, already lifting said tree above his head. (Everyone ignored how he'd seemingly forgotten the word 'high'.) MK and Mei shared a look as Mei slowly pulled out her phone, opening up the camera.

"I mean, we really shouldn't, but..." MK said, and Wukong beamed, shifting to hold the tree with one hand, taking the chance to show off. MK and Mei 'ooh'ed and 'awe'd appropriately, but Macaque rolled his eyes and looked away.

Which cause him to miss seeing the exact moment when Wukong's strength faltered, the tree falling upon the Monkey King's back, pinning him to the ground.

Macaque certainly didn't miss Wukong's screech of terror though.

MK and Mei had froze in shock, but Macaque reacted instantly, running over to the pinned monkey. The panicked mutters of "Not again, not again, please not again-" left little doubt as to what was currently going through Wukong's mind.

Macaque practically sent the tree flying in his rush to get it off of the other, and, not knowing was else to do when that didn't immediately quell Wukong's panic, flipped him over, desperately hoping that seeing the wide open sky, with no mountain in sight, would calm the Monkey King down.

And, well, it must've done something, as Wukong quieted, blankly staring up at the sky, without blinking.

"...Are you....okay?" Macaque asked, fearing that he had made things worse as he kneeled down beside him.

"...Have I... ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?" Wukong muttered, and Macaque paused.

"Ah- no. No." Macaque said, standing up. "No, we are not doing this again- MK, come get your stupid mentor, we're going back to the ship."

"MK- hey- hey kid-"

"What is it now, Monkey King?" MK sighed, tired. It had been unanimous that Wukong could no longer go even seconds without being supervised, and now had to be watched at all times. MK, unfortunately, had gotten the short end of the stick and had been chosen for the first watch, (They had drawn straws, and he had not missed the sighs of relief from the others, nor had he missed how Macaque had magically changed the length of the straws. He swore he'd get that shadow monkey back somehow), which of course meant that he was the first to have to put up with the delirious Wukong's complete and utter bullshit.

"Um- Would, do you think Macaque's fur tastes bitter like his rationality?" Wukong asked, from where he was laying on his back, on the couch, yet another of Sandy's blankets set on top of him. (They'd tried to cocoon him, but after enough protesting they'd given up on it for now).

"Wh-" MK started, confused, turning the sentence over in his head to make sense of it before responding. "...First of all, no, I think it would just taste like hair, second of all, did you mean to say personality?"

"....Yes...." Wukong said, slowly, before a wicked smirk came over his face, and MK felt fear settle into his bones. "Do you wanna see me make a hair buddy-"

"No!" MK yelled, and he may have lost all his powers, including his enhanced speed, but you wouldn't have known it from the way he practically flew to stop Wukong from blowing on his hair. "You are not going to be making any clones any time soon, okay? Monkey King I need you to look at me and confirm that you will not make any hair clones while you're delirious."

"...I will not make hair buddies while I'm serious." Wukong said, and MK sighed.

"Good enough, I guess." He said, sitting back down in his chair, slumping, momentarily closing his eyes in exasperation.

When he opened them again, Wukong was gone.

"Fuck-" MK said, jumping up and spinning around-

Only to see Wukong on the other side of the room, curled up on top of the other couch. He'd somehow gotten more blankets than before too, MK was certain there had only been two in the room before, but now there appeared to be at least seven.

MK didn't want to question where and how Wukong had gotten them.

What he would like to know though, was-

"...Why did you move to the other couch?" MK dared to ask, prompting Wukong to stick his head out of the pile of blankets he had buried himself in.

"Cause this one's more soft! The other one's too....too..." He seemed to blank on the word 'stiff', and instead said; "Boney. Boney couch. Bouch."

MK took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from breaking down then and there. It was, of course, at this moment, that he noticed Red Son try to sneak pass the open the door and down the hallway.

MK didn't let him.

"Red Son!" He said, rushing over (never taking his eyes off of Wukong), and looping his arm around the demon's. Red Son squeaked, but MK ignored it as he dragged him over to stand in front of Wukong. "Perfect timing, I think it was about time for me to have a little break, y'know? Would you mind watching him for me for a moment?"

Red Son was about to say no- but the look on his face, the look of someone who was oh so close to Losing It made him reconsider.

"...Sure..." Red Son said, slowly, "So long as it's only for a bit-"

"Cool! Thanks!" MK said, immediately letting go, turning and practically sprinting out of the room. "Good luck!"

Red Son had the ever looming sense that he had just doomed himself.

(He should have never accepted their offer to join them on the ship. But dammit, MK had offered some of that spicy candy he knew Red Son liked, and the fire demon just couldn't have refused.)

For a few blissful minutes, it was silent, Red Son staring at Wukong in apprehension, while Wukong hardly seemed to have noticed that anything had changed at all, still snugly wrapped in his nest of blankets.

And then Wukong lifted his head, a questioning expression on his face.

"...Does blue exist?" He asked, and a look that was somewhere between exasperation and pure terror made it's way onto Red Son's face.

"Noodle Boy, hurry up with your break and get back in here, your mentor's going existential!" He yelled, looking in the direction MK had gone, desperately hoping that the other would come back and save him from this fate.

"You can handle it!" MK's voice called faintly.

"...If blue doesn't exist......Then red doesn't exist......so does that mean you don't exist?" Wukong asked, under his breath, looking at Red Son with fear.

"I most certainly can not handle this!" Red Son yelled, "Could somebody please get over here?"

Nobody answered his call. Red Son honestly hadn't expected them to.

After all, he would've made the exact same choice.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out how to respond to the monkey that currently seemed to be having an existential crisis.

Only to jump as he heard an ear shattering scream of frustration ring through the ship.

This had the fortune of snapping Wukong out of his crisis, instead having him simply look confused. Red Son ignored the faint shouts from Macaque's room (something about 'fuck you've got a serious pair of lungs' and 'warn a guy next time') as he tried to calm himself down from the sudden scare.

Geez. MK had seriously needed that break.

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing #happy birthday!!

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self-indulgent-tword-fics · 3 years ago

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Hella Late Tickles of Color Entry

Fandom: Star Wars/The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din/Luke

Word count: 1.6k

@fanficsandfluff @ticklesofcolor

Sorry for the delay my dear! I wanted to get this to you on Saturday but ended up needing to work this weekend. I hope you enjoy it.

Part II

Luke couldn’t help but start giggling at the Mandalorian’s words. Though Din hadn’t tickled anyone in years he was apparently a quick learner, already breaking Luke down with his words alone. Din smiled as he loomed over the Jedi, trying not to laugh himself watching him squirm. “I haven’t even touched you yet. Why are you laughing so much?”

Luke started blushing, torn between hiding his face and protecting his sensitive areas. “Because it’s going to tickle,” Luke said before giggling more and covering his mouth to smother the sound.

Din found this very endearing. “It is. I see you’re eager for me to begin, so I won’t keep you in suspense any longer,” he said before wiggling his fingers underneath Luke’s robes and tickling his sides gently.

Luke started flailing and giggling like a madman despite how gentle Din was being. Din was a little out of practice and out of fear of accidentally hurting the man, Din decided to go with gentle touches instead of digging in. At least until he got the hang of it. Luke was resisting the urge to fight back and tickle Din again, sensing that the man was having as much fun doing this as he’d had when Luke tickled him.

Din grinned watching this strong warrior being made helpless by his fingers. Teasing had made Din feel a lot more ticklish when Luke did it to him, maybe it would work on Luke too. “Does this tickle Master Jedi?” Din said as he moved his hands to torment Luke’s belly. Din was gaining his confidence and used his hands to claw Luke’s belly, causing the man to squeak before rolling around on the ground in laughter.

Luke nodded his head. “Yes...it does!” he said. He tried to keep still but it was impossible. He managed to flip over from laying on his back to laying on his stomach in an attempt to protect his ticklish belly, but Din still had him pinned down. He started tickling up and down his ribs and wiggling his fingers under Luke’s arms as Luke screeched, kicking his legs against the floor.

Din couldn’t help laughing, Luke’s beautiful laugh was so infectious. This was a far cry from the stoic, poised warrior Din first encountered on Moff Gideon’s ship. If someone had told him at that moment Din would have the Jedi at his mercy, laughing hysterically while pinned underneath him a few months’ time, he wouldn’t have believed it. Din assumed that if Luke wasn’t enjoying himself, he could have thrown him across the room by now with his Jedi powers. In theory, Luke could have done that but the tickling was making it impossible for him to even try. Not that he wanted to.

“You have a very cute laugh, you know that Luke?” Din said chuckling, trying to tease him but he was also speaking the truth.

Luke didn’t know how to respond. He had indeed been told this before, the compliment making him blush profusely every time. Before he could stop himself, Luke wheezed out, “Stop...please.”

Din immediately stopped. Luke was panting and grateful for the reprieve, but he was confused. Luke flipped over to his back looking up at Din. He could sense the man’s concern. “Why did you stop?” Luke asked.

Din looked puzzled. “Because...you asked me to?” But then Din remembered how he had struggled with not blurting out “stop” or “no” during his own tickle attack, not truly wanting it to end. “Do you...want me to keep going?”

This completed flustered Luke. No one had ever asked him if he wanted to be tickled, but he was touched in a way that the Mandalorian was so considerate of him. Unable to form the words, all Luke could do was nod his head.

Din was relieved he hadn’t pushed Luke too hard, but he also couldn’t resist having a little fun with him. Din grinned at him. “I’m going to need you to say it, Luke.”

Oh, he’s a bit sadistic, isn’t he? Luke smiled and closed his eyes. “youcankeepgoing,” he mumbled quietly.

Din squinted his eyes and put his hand to his ear. “What was that? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you.”

Luke started giggling and hiding his face in his hands. “You can keep going!”

Luke had barely gotten the words out when Din pinned one of Luke's arms down with one hand, tickling underneath with the other hand. Luke screamed before hysterical giggles started pouring out of his mouth, shaking his head back and forth.

Din started laughing again. “This seems to be as much of a sensitive area for you as it was for me.” He started drilling his thumb under Luke’s arm and using his fingers to dig into Luke’s upper ribs, tears starting to fill Luke’s eyes. Din could tell this was a lot for Luke to handle so only did this for a few moments before stopping and letting him catch his breath.

Din smirked before asking, “So...is under your arms your worst spot? Or is there another one I should try?”

This was killing Luke. He wasn’t ready for the tickling to end quite yet, but telling the Mandalorian his worst spot was going to be nearly impossible. But with as respectful as Din was, Luke knew he wouldn’t unless he told him.

Luke bit his lip before mustering the strength to say it. “My feet...that’s my worst spot.”

Din smiled, happy for Luke’s honesty. “Ah yes,” Din said before looking at Luke’s socked feet. “That is a very sensitive area for a lot of people, isn’t it?” Din sat down on Luke’s shins before Luke started squealing. Din laughed. This really was precious. “Again, I haven’t even touched you yet.” Din couldn’t resist toying with the adorable man again. He started wiggling his fingers a few inches away from Luke’s soles, though Luke couldn’t see what Din was doing, so Din decided to describe it to him. “My fingers are wiggling dangerously close to these feet of yours, Master Jedi. Can you sense it with those powers of yours?”

Luke started involuntarily trying to pull his feet away and wiggling his toes because he could sense it. He could feel the ghostly tickles already. “Just do it, Din. Please.” The anticipation was already killing him.

Din chuckled. “If you insist.” Din started wiggling his fingers up and down both of Luke’s soles before Luke started screaming with laughter.

Din was being very gentle, knowing this was Luke’s worst spot and that was actually making the tickling much worse than if Din had been rougher with him. Din was paying attention to see which parts of Luke’s feet got the biggest reaction, noticing that the closer he got to his toes, the more he flailed. Din started tickling his toes and Luke was done for. The Jedi started pounding his fists against the floor, silent laughter coming from the wide smile on his face. Unable to hold back anymore, Luke reached out his hands to tickle Din under his arms.

Din fell back against Luke’s chest laughing loudly as Luke wrapped arms around him in a hug, using his legs to pin Din’s legs down. It surprised Din but he welcomed it, finding that he missed Luke’s playful touches. Luke knew this of course, that’s why he’d done this. He also just couldn’t take being tickled on his toes for very long.

Luke continued to tickle Din under his arms and his upper ribs, before switching to grabbing Din’s thighs, then back to his ribs and underarms, sneaking a few tickles to his belly to hear those adorable high pitched giggles again. Din was resting the back of his head against Luke’s shoulder trying (but not really) to wriggle out of Luke’s grasp. Luke alternated spots so quickly it made it seem to tickle more and before long Din’s melodic laughter became a borderline hysterical cackle.

“You know, you have a very cute laugh too Din,” Luke said smiling. Din suddenly felt Luke using the Force to tickle his thighs and the bottoms of his feet, causing him to scream. Din’s feet weren’t nearly as ticklish as Luke’s but the tickling on his thighs quickly did him in, as Luke continued to tickle under his arms. “You don’t mind a little more tickling, do you? I know you missed this.” If the tickling wasn't overloading his brain, Din would have wondered how Luke could have known that.

Luke was merciful and only tickled Din like this for a few moments (using the Force to cause a burst of tickles to engulf every inch of Din’s body for just a moment) before stopping. It was enough to exhaust Din once again, giggling and twitching as he continued to rest his head against Luke’s shoulder, sucking in air greedily. Luke rubbed his hands against Din’s shoulders, Din laughing and jolting for a moment thinking Luke was about to tickle him again.

Luke laughed. “Someone’s a bit jumpy. Don’t worry, I know you’ve had enough.”

Din and Luke were both panting and once they’d recovered enough, they sat back down on the couch while Luke continued to rub Din’s shoulders. “I may be the more ticklish one, but I definitely have more stamina than you,” Luke said looking at the exhausted man.

Din had closed his eyes and was resting his head against the couch. He chuckled before saying, “You’ve got me there.”

Luke felt those warm feelings he’d sensed coming from Din for weeks even more intensely now. Luke smiled and gave Din a peck on one of his rosy cheeks. “I think I’m going to have to make a habit of doing this to you. Your laugh is too irresistible,” Luke said fondly.

I hope you do. “Just know, I will be getting my revenge if you do.”

Luke laughed. Oh, I’m counting on it.

#tickle fic #tickling #ticklish!din #ticklish!mando #ticklish!luke #my writing

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wandering-star-storyteller · 3 years ago

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Kid Math To The Power! Chapter 1

(Listen for the words evaluate and public.)

“It’s another beautiful day in our Fair City for young Becky Botsford… and her friend Rex, who’s come to visit from the next town over.”

Rex looked around for the source of the voice before he remembered. “I’m still not used to that.”

Becky shrugged. “The narrator’s been there for as long as I can remember.”

Bob chattered in agreement. Becky was about to translate, but a cheerful jingle caught the trio’s attention first. Bob took off down the street, chasing the source of the music.

”Hurry, Rex! You don’t want to miss this!” Becky was running after the musical truck too… if you could call using only a fraction of her top speed “running”. Rex darted forward in a blue blur and grabbed the back of the truck, stopping it in the middle of the street.

Rex was feeling pretty proud of himself… until he saw Becky’s glare. Oh, right. No superpowers in public. Luckily for them, it wasn’t a busy day and no civilians seemed to have witnessed the little boy holding a truck in place with one hand.

The driver slid open a window in the side of the truck. “What just happened? Did I hit something?”

Rex was in front of the window in a flash. “Um… I think your brakes are broken.”

Becky cut in, smiling at the man in the truck in what she hoped was a convincing way. “That’s what it looked like to me. Maybe you should have a mechanic evaluate the brakes.”

Before the driver could respond, Bob handed him a fistful of dollar bills. Rex turned to Becky, slightly confused.

She pointed to a colorful picture on the side of the vehicle. “Three of those, please.”

“So this is what a popsicle tastes like,” Rex mused, enjoying the sweet sticky treat. He and Becky were sitting on a park bench in the sun while Bob went to buy himself more ice cream.

Becky finished her popsicle and nodded. “I thought you’d like it.” Her expression changed and she lowered her voice a bit. “But Rex, you can’t pull stunts like that in public. We’re just lucky that nobody saw you hold the ice cream truck like that.”

Rex squirmed. “I didn’t mean to. I just thought you wanted me to hurry.”

Becky put her hand over her face, the way she did when something was wrong. “I didn’t mean for you to use your powers. I just wanted you to speed up a little bit.”

”Oh.” Rex put his hands in his pockets. “I’m still not very good at this kind of thing, am I?”

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “That isn’t a fair evaluation.”

”What do you mean?”

Becky’s eyes sparkled the way they always did when she defined a new word. “An evaluation is a judgment or a review. For example, an evaluation of your progress as a superhero would show that you’re learning from your mistakes and constantly improving.”

He smiled a little bit at the compliment. “I did stop those villains in the next town over from robbing an armored truck all by myself yesterday.”

“Oh, I remember that! I saw you on the news!”

Rex grinned. A little recognition was nice after another battle of good and evil. “You should have seen their faces when I picked up the truck and carried it to jail!”

Now Becky was trying very hard not to laugh. “I love that trick! I remember one time when after a failed scam, Seymour Orlando Smooth—”

A loud screech cut through the air. Rex put his hands over his ears trying to block out the noise. “Which kind of alarm is that?”

Becky groaned. “It’s the bank alarm. Someone must be trying to rob the bank again.”

The two superpowered alien kids (plus Bob the monkey) ducked into an alley to transform. It took Becky only a few seconds to turn into Wordgirl, but the zipper on Rex’s hoodie snagged his shirt, delaying them by about 6 seconds (or 5.982736 since Hexagonians preferred precision over rounding.)

Fortunately, the would-be robber turned out to simply be Amazing Rope Guy, who tripped over the rope and dropped all of the stolen money the second he saw the heroes. Since there wasn’t really much left for them to do, Wordgirl decided to let the police take it from there.

It was too nice of day to waste it on the ground. Wordgirl and Kid Math raced each other through the skies, faster and faster (with Captain Huggy Face hanging onto Wordgirl’s back for dear life). She was laughing from the thrill of flying until she saw Kid Math’s serious expression. The younger boy seemed to be concentrating hard on something that clearly bothered him.

“Hey, Kid Math? Why don’t we take a break? The view from the top of that skyscraper over there is incredible. We could just relax for a while.”

”I can’t do that.” He slowed down until he and Wordgirl were hovering side by side. “We haven’t trained enough for the past few days and that last mission isn’t sufficient practice for anyone.”

Wordgirl paused, thinking about what he meant. “I know Rope Guy isn’t the toughest villain in the city, but—”

”But that’s just the problem!” Kid Math spun around to face her. “Having to change identities delayed us. It subtracted from our time available. If that had been a greater threat, I could have made us too late!”

Oh. Now Wordgirl understood what was upsetting her protégé. “It’s really okay. This kind of thing just takes practice. I know between your schedule and mine we haven’t had much time lately, but it’ll get easier! Huggy and I are here to help. Besides, you’re already improving. You’ve definitely gotten better at remembering when to be Rex and when to be Kid Math.”

He nodded slowly. As usual, Wordgirl had a point. “I just don’t think we train enough. It’s almost time for you to go home and I didn’t get very much done.”

“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to train more, but it’s important to take some time for yourself if you can.”

He wanted to ask if the time would be better spent practicing or going on patrol. This planet functioned in such a strange and arbitrary way that almost seemed to actively resist all reasonable logic. Still, he decided to ask a different question that was also on his mind.

“Wordgirl?”

She looked worried for a moment. “Yes?”

Kid Math gave her a mischievous smile. ”Can we race one more time?”

“Meanwhile, just outside of Earth’s atmosphere, a familiar not-so-friendly face watches from afar.”

A tall alien with pale platinum-blond hair sat watching the planet spin. “Such a weak little planet. We could have run the place in our sleep!”

She kicked the pilot’s seat, making said pilot flinch. Colonel Gigglecheeks almost chattered back at her angrily, but he stopped himself just in time. He knew better than to talk to his companion when she was in one of her foul moods.

Now she was glaring angrily at the computer. The Colonel didn’t say anything, but he seriously hoped she wasn’t about to blast something with her laser eyes again. Last time she did that, it had taken a full lunar rotation to replace the equipment she had scorched in a fit of rage.

To his utter relief, she simply gave him an order. “Scan that planet again. I want to see if their defenses have changed.”

The Colonel pressed a few buttons. The computer responded in a slow, mechanical voice.

“Name of planet: Earth. Also known as Terra—”

Miss Power flicked the screen with her gloved finger. “Yeah yeah, we’ve heard the sales pitch. Just skip straight to planetary defense systems.”

The computer responded.

“One monkey pilot from Lexicon.”

Huh. Apparently someone actually considered that furball a threat. Miss Power rolled her eyes.

“One Lexiconian superhero. Earth age: approximately 10 solar revolutions.”

Miss Power rolled her eyes again. She turned to head back to the captain’s quarters, but then the computer played a piece of information that stopped her in her tracks.

“One Hexagonian. Earth age: unknown.”

Miss Power smirked. “Hexagon, huh? Colonel Gigglecheeks, bring us in for a landing.”

The villain looked through the windshield at the little ocean planet.

“I think we’re going to have some fun.”

#wordgirl #wordgirl kid math #miss power #to the power au #inequality au #i don’t know which name is better #wordgirl fanfiction #rex #rexagon #pbs kids wordgirl #becky botsford #superheroes

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wornoutmouse · 3 years ago

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@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff.

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?"

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing.

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging.

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat.

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that. Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way."

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room.

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening.

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge.

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants.

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.”

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch.

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!"

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot, "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways.

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good. The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes. Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard. "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that."

He bowed his head and rested on your back, kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed.

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out.

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read.

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow

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anntidote · 4 years ago

Text

:carton of milk - kageyama tobio

back to: series index || ann’s playground

pairing: kageyama tobio x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: timestop!au, TW!!dubcon, smut, angst, pwp, masturbation, blowjob, handjob, deepthroating, does this count as somnophilia(?), mentions of oikawa

summary: the day after the break up, you find yourself confiding in tobio, your reliable underclassmen. he's not good with his words, but he offers you a drink-- and you happen to drink more than he would ever thought you would.

brimming later hours into the night, the moonlight seemed to play peek-a-boo behind the scattered clouds. the slight breeze danced at the hem of your skirt as you're sat outside karasuno's second gym, knees up to your chest, head buried in your arms. the rhythmic sound of the volleyballs ricocheting off the hardwood floors and squeaks of sneakers only seemed to echo in your mind.

"senpai?"

you raise your head at the inquiry, only to meet the blue eyed gaze of your underclassmen, and the crinkle of his steps toward you against the dirt. "what're you doing out here? it's late."

you let out a sigh before responding, tilting your head up to avoid his curious stare. "i'm thinking, tobio."

he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "thinking about what?"

the low hum of the vending machine and wisps of the night air filled the space's silence, as you blankly stare up into the endless black and blue above. "i broke up with him."

kageyama's eyes widen, mouth falling slightly open, staring at you in disbelief, and you almost scoff. "y-you broke up with oikawa-san? why?"

you unfortunately understood the utter surprise, as any outsider looking at the two of you would've seen it. you knew the way you looked at him was filled with adoration and love. the times he pointed at you after a serve, or the random back hugs he'd give when picking you up from school.

it was definitely the shameless kissing and proclamations of utter infatuation with each other, that led other people to think love had definitely taken a liking to the two of you.

but the fact you could recite yesterday's events like the back of your hand- the thought of everything being a lie was more realistic than your fairytale of a relationship.

you remember the shade of pink that came across her cheeks, and that dark blue of her discarded underwear. you remember the creak of the bed, the melody of moans that tumbled from his lips- the same ones that he swore that only you would ever hear. you remember the string of lies that came from that very same mouth, the ones that failed in attempts of faux reassurance.

"it's all a misunderstanding!" the disheveled look of after sex hair he sported was a stark contrast in the words he called out after you, grabbing your hand to turn you towards him. you immediately jerk away at his touch, face scrunching in distaste.

"just how is you being balls deep into another girl a misunderstanding, tooru?"

"y-you were just there at the wrong place and the wrong time! i-"

"what the fuck does that even mean?" you yell back, fists clenched tight. "have you been doing this the entire time we were together?"

the look of guilt that washed over his face was more than enough to have had made you bawl, but you held back, forcing yourself to hold your head higher. "i hope you're at least half as loyal to that girl than you are to volleyball." your eyes that were once filled with warmth, now cold daggers, as you briskly turned from him, beginning to walk away. "i-if…"

you halted in your steps at the start of his words. "if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i swear i would."

your heart ached at his broken tone, regret hanging off every word. you wanted to run back into his arms, kiss him and tell him that it was alright. that everything would be alright. "but you can't."

you don't see how he stares at the shape of your back, and he doesn't see the tears that streamed down your cheeks when you continued. "you can't stop time."

the nerve of that motherfucker.

"senpai?"

a snap back to reality hits you when tobio leans forward in worry. "senpai? are you okay?"

only then do you realize the glassiness in your vision. "oh." hurriedly wiping the edges of your eyes, you give the boy a small smile. "sorry about that."

he shakes his head, pressing the familiar chime of buttons into the vending machine. "did he do something bad?"

you fiddle with an object in your hands, watching as he pushes the door open, and stabbing his straw through the carton. "something like that."

but you felt absolutely pathetic.

if you didn't break up with tooru, as of right now, you'd be dragging him face first from the seijoh gym after getting a call from iwaizumi. you'd still be looking at him like he was what the world, and you revolved around him. if you were a bit stronger, perhaps you'd still be able to walk over there and give your goodbyes to their volleyball club.

instead, here you were. sitting outside karasuno's second gym, still wearing one of his old sweaters. the bounce of rubber and screech of shoes only reminds you of the late nights you'd spend watching his practices. you wallowed in what was, and you hated it.

you know it's not your fault. you understand there was nothing you could have done. yet the voice at the back of you head taunts, and peppers thoughts that aren't yours.

that maybe if you were a better girlfriend- maybe if you bought a blue set of panties instead. maybe if you smiled a bit more. maybe if you were more-- "here."

pushing the watch you were messing with into your pocket, you reflexively catch a slightly cold and sweating carton of milk from the underclassmen. "i hope you win."

you offer him a lopsided grin at the analogy. "you know he can't beat me, tobio."

he nods promptly, and the crunch of the dirt under his shoes follow as he begins to walk away.

"tobio, do you think i'm…pretty?"

although his back turned to you, you don't miss the way the tips of his ears immediately flare up. his posture straightening when his pace quickens, after the rushed, polite goodbye he offered you.

...

the next time you see tobio was an occasion you felt slightly guilty about.

patrolling the hallways as part of your student council duties, you ended up shooing a clique of boys loitering in front of the bathroom. their excuses played into one ear and out the other when you sent them to their classrooms, earning a couple insults on the way.

and only when their figures disappear down the hallway do you hear the grunts. the moans.

your eyes widen, fully knowing the source of the noise, and a shot of heat pools in your gut.

every ounce of responsibility in your body is screaming at you. the full knowledge of other patrollers being far from your position, the understanding that this was definitely wrong for you to be walking into the boy's bathroom, and the fact that this was tobio. the cute, round faced tobio who tagged behind you at kitagawa first. how you always peppered him in compliments after practice, and offering a couple milk candies you'd snuck away from your now, ex. the same doe-eyed tobio, who asked where the gym was.

that was the same tobio who had his fist wrapped around his angry red cock, tip weeping in precum, and his eyes closed shut in concentration. you quickly placed a hand over your mouth, stopping the surprised noise that came up your throat. you felt disgusting, feeling the way your panties dampened with each stroke of his shaft, clenched thighs, and school slacks pooled at his ankles. how you wished that it was you he was thinking about. how you'd want to slap his hand away and sink his length into you until he cried. "f-fuck…" another groan leaves his lips and your eyes widen. realization hits you.

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would."

your jaw clenches as you shove your hand in your pocket, and the tentative click of the stopwatch rings out.

like that, the world halts in place. the wisps of clouds stop their journey guided by the wind. the birds pose against the blue hue of the sky, and the teachers and students alike stop mid lesson. nothing else can be heard except the click of your shoes against the tile of the bathroom floor, pattering towards the setter in question.

you place a guilty kiss on the crease of his forehead before turning his build towards you, dropping to your knees.

as if you were apologizing.

you place your smaller hand on top of his own, and the combined stroke of his cock was an absolute sinful sight that made your mouth salivate. you leaned in, taking a tentative lick from midshaft to the tip, and his precum collecting at your tastebuds-- you moan in pure delight. his taste became addictive whence you finally took him into the heat of your mouth, wrapping your lips around him, and taking an innocent look up.

although face still paused, you still take your time in admiring him. the collar of his military button up popped, a button or so undone, the familiar pout on his face, and tan skin with a light sheen of sweat.

oh, what you would do to kiss him- to swallow his moans into his throat and ride him in this bathroom. how you wished it was you who he was jerking off to, and that if he wanted to split you in two. the stretch of your lips around him only paled in comparison to what your imagination held for his cock buried in your cunt.

but this was about him.

working yourself lower and lower, you finally took all of him. nose pressing against the mound of his abdominals, as you reached over and gripped his thigh. nails slightly digging into the meat of his leg, your air flow constricting and eyes turning foggy when you replay his earlier melody of moans in your head like a broken record.

you undo a button of two of your blouse, your chest slightly peeking out- simply because it was just too fucking hot. the flush and suction of your cheeks against the heat of his dick seeming like the only thing in the world that mattered.

this was for all the times he'd stayed by your side. for all the times he'd offered you a shoulder to lean on, and an ear to listen. for all the times he'd put up with your ex's envy antics, and for last night.

you wanted him to remember your gratitude.

life resumed, and for a split second, tobio swore he saw you.

glassy eyes, your nose pressed against his abdominals. the way your throat convulsed as you choked around him. his length hitting the back of your throat, and how everything was suddenly so hot, wet, slick and sticky. the way your breasts peeked out from under your shirt, and several strands of baby hair sticking to your forehead. how you stared back at him with such want. such eagerness.

as if you wanted him too.

it was too much. it was overwhelming when witnessing the sight of you gagging sand struggling to take him, forcing him face first into an orgasm. cumming spurts out over the urinal with his fist clenched around himself, thighs shaking and the heavy pants of his breath. he let out a pornographic moan in the school bathroom-- eyes blinking in utter relief yet confusion.

even though it was a mere flash of an image, he swore it was you…

but where did you go?

he would never know how, or why you briefly resumed the timeline like that. he would never know that you did it out of pure selfishness. no matter how many times you wanted to convince yourself that it was a gift for him.

he wouldn't notice the press of your legs together when you spotted him on his next excursion at the vending machine. he wouldn't notice how you seemed to know why he got so flustered over the most pure of interactions throughout the rest of the week.

the way you sucked at your straw at lunch, and licking the remnants of milk from around your lips. you seemed to giggle louder than before, and it made his heart do something strange.

"you want a sip, tobio?" your question catches him off guard as he coughs, before shaking his head. "ah n-no, i'm alright." both of you settle in comfortable silence, except for the occasional sip or chew of snacks.

things began to dial down, as your heart began to heal. ever so slowly, the cracks of your heart being filled with moments like these.

"senpai?" kageyama suddenly calls out.

"yes tobio?" you looked over at his slouched form against the concrete wall, leaning over to brush part of his bangs out of his eyes, and not missing the slight blush that comes over his face.

"oikawa-san is an idiot."

you raise your eyebrow. "that was out of nowhere."

he looks away from you, and you only grow more confused before he continues."i don't know what he said to you, but i think you're attractive."

your breath hitches for a second, before you settle into a a bright smile- one that has kageyama's heart beat in his ears. grabbing him by the collar, pulling him close, and giving him a noogie. "aww tobio, you're so cute. you'll always be my favorite."

but your volleyball headed tobio doesn't deserve to be a rebound. and it's not what will heal your broken heart right now.

that's what you said, with the time stop watch tucked away in the pocket of your sweater.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x female reader #hq x you #tobio kageyama x reader #kageyama smut #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #tw dubcon #like clockwork #.💗tobio

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spookyhalloweennights · 4 years ago

Text

Birds of a Feather (Syro: SFW)

Your first day on the job was nothing less than breathtaking. Having just graduated and finding a position in the rehabilitation field, you were over the moon when you had started. Although the manager couldn’t be more than displeased at the fact that a human was working in their facility, and a human female nonetheless so straight away they had assigned you to the most difficult patient in the facility.

The patient? A male harpy whose plumage reminded you of a raptor. His talons had clacked against the floor, the noise only stopping once every few moments as he had paused and stared out the window wistfully. A sigh that sounded more like a whistle had come from him, however as you had begun to move closer his gaze snapped to yours. Piercing yellow eyes met yours in an intense stare before he let out a screech of hatred.

“A human! They dare insult me like this?” He screamed and you had backed away hastily, tripping over the tray you had been rolling with you and falling. Landing hard on your back with the wind knocked out of you. The only saving grace you had was an elf who had heard the commotion and came rushing over to help you clean up the mess and make sure you were okay. The petite elf had turned her attention to the harpy who was making such a fuss with his feathers all ruffled up.

“Syro! It is rather impolite of you to behave so badly, she is just as good of a nurse as any one of us here. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here.” The elf, who you’d later come to know as Gweyir, scolded. The harpy had shrunk back as the lecture continued for another minute or so before she was finally done.

With a grumble, the harpy had reluctantly allowed you into his room to do your job. You had taken notice of the scrapes and bruises that he had once you had gotten closer to him. Feathers were missing and the biggest thing that you had missed before was that his right wing was broken. He didn’t talk to you, at least not at first. He’d merely stand stock still while you tended to the wounds and left him food, which continued for nearly a year after you had started.

It wasn’t that Syro wasn’t ready to go after he had fully healed, he had nowhere to go so he dragged it out for as long as possible. He attended multiple sessions with various therapists to talk about what had happened to him, you never knew the details of his case until Gweyir had told you as the pair of you were making your usual rounds.

“He was exiled from his flock, a bad hunter and they didn’t want him dragging them down so… The only logical punishment they could think of was bodily harm and forcing him to leave. Without a flock, most harpies don’t make it on their own.” She explained, the manager had given you both a quick nod as you brushed past. In the past few months they had come to warm up to the idea of having a human female around, plus you were the most dedicated worker alongside Gweyir that they had.

“That’s… Rough.” Was all you could think of to say as you processed the information. Gweyir nodded in agreement.

However, the ruffling of feathers had caught your attention and you glanced to your left. Seeing Syro all puffed up and a low squawk of sorts came from him at the mention of what had happened. You awkwardly waved Gweyir goodbye as she wished you luck. Putting on your best smile, you walked inside as Syro merely eyed you and turned away with a huff.

“Bad day?” You asked the harpy, he would occasionally humor you with short answers in response to your questions.

“That elf has no idea what happened.” He grumbled in response. “It wasn’t exactly like that. It was… Way different than what they had thought it was.”

You set to work, he was a lot more compliant in letting you do your job than he was when you had first met him. You kept the surprise that rose up in you at the idea of him telling you what had happened under check as you didn’t want to discourage him from talking.

“My flock was… Ruthless. Took whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t slaughter if it got in their way. And considering that our species isn’t… Too common, it wasn’t a surprise when my flock had climbed its way to the top of being the most feared.” He began to pace back and forth again, the talons clicking against the floor in an ominous manner. “I was not like them. I couldn’t take or kill just for the thrill of it. And when it came time for the ‘coming of age’ ceremony… I failed, and that resulted in me being harmed the way I was. And then those humans... It was worse before you had come here. I was exiled. I’m not allowed to go to any other flock or that puts them in danger. I’m… Stuck in a way.” His voice had grown softer as a forlorn look overcame his features.

You had listened intently to him, the story tugging at your heart in a way that was unexpected. “Syro…” Your mouth had run dry and you found yourself unable to say anything to him.

“You needn’t say anything to me. I realize now that not all humans are bad. You being amongst the few who are genuinely good.” He complimented, though he pointedly kept his gaze away from you as you stared up at him.

You weren’t quite sure what to say in response to the compliment, mumbling out a quick thanks and hurrying out of the room once you had finished your duties. You walked back into the nurse’s station and sank into a chair, your face the color of a cherry. Gweyir had come in not too long after you and had mistaken the blush on your face for you crying and anger seemed to run through the elf.

“Was he mean to you? Did he hurt you? I swear I’ll pluck him like a chicken if…” You interrupted her before she could continue on any further.

“Nothing like that Gweyir. He complimented me.” The shock on her face mimicked your own. “I know, he told me that I was one of the few good humans, and… He opened up more about his past.” You finished, Gweyir slumping in the seat next to you.

“Geez, I didn’t expect that.” She murmured before glancing at you. “He only has two weeks left here before they force him to leave. I overheard the manager talking to one of the higher ups.”

“Oh.” Was all that came as the news came as a second surprise to you today. “I have to go, I have to at least warn him.” You said as you slid the half eaten bag of chips over to Gweyir before getting up and heading out the break room doors.

Syro had taken the news exactly as you had expected him to, with a lot of anger and feather ruffling as he paced the room. Stretching his wings in annoyance before his gaze settled on you again, any amount of trust he had put into you earlier was gone with this new information.

“Get out.” He hissed at you, and you merely blinked in response. The statement took a moment to fully process but by that time, he was in your face.

“Get out!” He screeched, stretching out his wings and looking more intimidating than you had ever seen him. You scrambled out of the room and narrowly avoided the metal tray being thrown at your head by said harpy.

It was after that incident that your manager had decided to transfer you to another patient. They had declared that you had finished your duties with Syro, but you knew that wasn’t the case. Nevertheless you didn’t have the energy to argue with your manager, and while your new patient was lovely and a breath of fresh air. You missed Syro. The mermaid you had been assigned to was oftentimes a bit too chatty for your taste.

You had only briefly seen the harpy once or twice after the incident, each time you had turned before his gaze could find yours. The new nurse that was taking care of him seemed to be doing better than what you had been anyway. A bitter taste seemed to rise in the back of your throat when you had caught the pair enjoying a conversation together, a smile was present on his features.

What did it matter anyway? You were no longer assigned to him. You should just go back to your job, at least that’s what you told yourself until you found yourself cornered by the large harpy. His hands placed on either side of your head as he stared down at you with a frown on his features.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated, and you couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from you. It confused Syro more than anything in the world, just enough that you could slip away.

“I’ve been assigned to another patient Syro. It’s my job… Besides, they figured your new nurse would suit your needs better anyway.” You stated calmly as you made your way down the hallway, the clicking of his talons on the tiled floor gave way to him following you.

“I preferred you as my nurse. And I had tried to tell that manager otherwise but they weren’t hearing it.” He huffed in annoyance. You paused, the familiar feeling of shock spreading through you before you merely shook your head.

“You smile a lot more around that nurse, and you’ve become well enough to come out of your room now and join the others in the mess hall rather than taking your meals in your room. I’d say she’s doing her job right.” You hummed thoughtfully, heading to the small cubicle where the cabinets were. You placed the tray and other equipment back in their right places.

“I miss you.” He said simply. “And I wanted to apologize for how I reacted, it was wrong of me to take it out on you like I did. I know I can’t go back but… I want you to know that much.” Syro shifted as though he was uncomfortable admitting he was wrong. “The other nurse helped me realize that.”

“It’s alright Syro, I know stuff like that can be shocking. The important thing is that you realized it.” You responded, turning to face the massive creature in front of you.

A relieved smile spread across his face at the apology acceptance. He sighed softly before glancing around to see if any others were near you. “Can I visit you? Once I’m out of here I mean…”

“Of course you can!” You responded eagerly. “You can come by here or I’ll show you where my house is if you wait once you’re out of here.”

He merely nodded in acknowledgement before the pair of you heard the other nurse calling his name, a grimace came across his features before he looked down at you one more time. It seemed as though he was debating something in his mind before he finally leaned down and nuzzled against you with a quiet chirp of appreciation. The action left you stunned, but before you could say anything else to him, he had turned and walked down the hallway.

In the following week, you had made an effort to stop by Syro’s room more than usual, each time you were greeted with him nuzzling against you before he listened to you chat about your day. Only occasionally chiming in with a thought, other times you’d listen to him talk about what his life was like before he had come here. It was dark, more so than what anyone had actually expected of the creature. When the day came that he had to leave, he had asked to leave at the same time you had got off your shift.

“Are you ready?” You asked Syro as you adjusted the strap on your bag that you took to work with you every day. The harpy hummed in thought before merely nodding in response to the question.

“Let’s get this over with.” His voice was rough, to others it may have sounded like he was excited to be leaving but you knew underneath that he was terrified.

The walk to your home was silent, save for the occasional comment that you made to keep his nerves down. It wasn’t until you had arrived at your front door steps that you could see the genuine fear in Syro’s eyes. He really did have nowhere to go, and in the moment you had made a rash decision.

“Why don’t you stay here with me for a while? At least until you get on your feet.” You offered, and it seemed as though the idea shocked Syro. It took him a moment to respond to the proposal.

“I won’t get in your way. I appreciate you doing this for me.” He said as he walked up the steps right as you opened the door, you stepped aside to let him in first.

“I’ll have to get the guest room set up properly for you but otherwise you can help yourself to anything in here.” You said.

“Thank you.” Came the response as he looked around your house. “Your home is lovely.”

Two years had passed since that day, and you really couldn’t imagine your life any other way. Your relationship with Syro had developed into something more as time had progressed and you showed him the basics to surviving on his own. Except he never left, and you never had a complaint about it. In fact you had begun to look forward to going home after a long day at the rehabilitation center, knowing that your harpy would no doubt have prepared something for you to eat or a relaxing bath.

After a particularly stressful day with a new patient, you had dragged yourself up the front steps and into your home. The clicking of Syro’s talons on the floorboards brought a smile to your face, you kicked your shoes off and plopped down on the couch. Golden eyes came into sight as Syro had kneeled down in front of you with a faint smile.

“Rough day?” He asked and you merely nodded in response to the question, sighing as he chuckled in response.

“The new patient is a lot worse than anything I’ve ever dealt with. I don’t know if I can handle this one, they’re just… unreceptive to everything we’ve tried so far.” You vented while Syro had listened to you intently.

“Give them time, they’ll come around. I know that you can do it, you dealt with me.” He responded with a faint smile. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest, I’ll take care of dinner.”

When you had come home a few weeks later with a grin on your face, Syro knew that you had gotten the patient to finally open up and he couldn’t be more proud of you than what he was in that moment.

#exophilia #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #male harpy #female reader #male harpy x reader #harpy x reader #Spooky'sWriting #sfw #spookyhalloweennights

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dorki-c · 4 years ago

Text

Fuck him up (if he hurts you)

Characters: Dabi, Fem.(Reader), Toga, Mr. Compress, Giran

Relationship: Dabi and (Reader)

A/N: Hey! I’m finally done with this one! Whoop! Whoop! It took a little while but I’m glad its done because to be honest...I really enjoyed writing this, but, I have other things that require my attention. Also! Happy belated bday Dabi!

As always, PLEASE REBLOG AND LIKE! (ALSO COME JOIN MY VALENTINES EVENT, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS CLICK HERE!)

TW: Threatening, Swearing and Cheating

Does anybody know the stages of getting over your cheating significant other?

It all starts out with denial- how bittersweet that filthy fucking word is-, although it doesn’t last long, when once you managed to eat at least five tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream whilst watching the last show of some shitty soap opera, the next stage comes to bite your ass, anger- also known as throwing or burning your exe’s belongings that they left; however, I prefer burning it (they won’t be able to sell it if they come back).

Once those first two (rather tough) stages fly pass, this third one was like hitting the jackpot for me, but probably not for you, as the mental gamble caused lots of sexually frustrated people to bargain- to play the dice, you shall, but even gamblers don’t use the ‘third time is the charm’ as its utter bullshit- and then--!

OH GOD, HERE COMES FIVE MORE TUBS OF BEN & JERRY’S ICECREAM! THIS ONE IS A REAL KICKER! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THE LIVING ROOM IS FUCKING FLOODING WITH DEPRESSION- Yup, that was you five tubs of ice cream ago, maybe some chocolate might help…

At last, when the cleaning crew arrived, and you managed to accept- with the sunshine glowing down on your skin after four long stages of shit- with the fresh thought of buying a couple dresses that you saw on sale from that one adorable itty bitty corner shop.

But I’m not like that.

And here’s why in (you guessed it) 5 stages.

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

1. Discovery.

Rolling their shoulders backwards, a blanket fell backwards as a tall silhouette ghosted from the bedroom door that they left open.

When the bathroom light blinked to life, (y/n) faintly heard the screeching of the door shut on itself. Though, she knew her beloved boyfriend had to go to ‘work’, what she didn’t know was who made his phone ping at 7:15 in the morning.

Scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, blankets stuck to sweat-ridden skin as they coiled around her legs similarly to a snake and ensnared them to stay stuck and stationary. The plush pillows tried to lull her back to sleep. However, (y/n) wasn’t having any of it.

Reaching out to grab Dabi’s phone- even if he didn’t give you permission- the time was as you predicted, though the contents of his notifications bleeping up was something you didn’t predict. The background of his lock screen was something to behold as it was a picture of your concentrated form doodling in a sketchbook whilst a pale white cup stood beside two fresh slices of cake.

Shakily revealing the messaging app, there was around four or five unknown contacts, all listed under the people’s numbers.

Though one of them caught your eye.

Opening the chatroom, your free hand clutched the blankets.

Dabi is going to regret making you break the way you did that morning.

(He has no choice in doing so.)

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

2. Kicking the asshole out.

“Toga…? C-can you come over, please.”

The TV presented the small-town news that had little to no intervention though that didn’t mould the female into a wish less mess where a gentle hand went to work and smooth out ensnared knots. “Are you okay now, (y/n)-chan?” You never heard Toga murmur before, but that’s the perks of being alive now.

(Y/n) released the trembling bubble of air out of her lungs and into the atmosphere, readying herself for that front door to open. Shaking your head to respond to Toga’s question, a small huff was released out of the other female’s chest.

The blonde female knew why you still weren’t okay.

Whoever walks through that door will have a profound effect on whatever will happen to (y/n).

However, with the slight nudge of her friend’s hand pinching the side of her sensitive waist, a yelp was released in surprise whereas the blonde villain giggled at the reaction. “Your so easy to scare, (y/n)-chan!” Toga loved to tease you, but in this time frame it wasn’t to make you feel uncomfortable but rather the opposite.

She wanted to make your thunder stricken heart rumble with rage in an unknown and bizarre way- but to also remind that you weren’t alone-, though, you had this bubbly and extra crazy best friend who brought over too many sweets for your stomach to handle alongside the annoyance that you hadn’t noticed Dabi’s strange and desolate nature.

As Toga picked up another opened bag of candy (I think they were ‘eclairs’), unwrapped the golden covering as the crinkling plastic fumbled like sparks dancing across the fingers in a tantalising rhythm. In an attempt to grab the bag, Toga was about to throw it across the room so you could get off her because, and I quote “You’re killing me with your weight!”, how lovely that compliment is for somebody who’s blood is like a glacier falling apart after a storm chipped the exterior and revealed the icy truth underneath.

And may God cover their eyes, as that chilling sharp edge at the tip of the glacier crumbles under Mother Nature’s will (so does the female when the familiar screech of the door revealing whoever is walking through reaches her ears).

Sluggishly dripping back onto the couch where at least three of the seven stocked up with fluff blankets- wrapped around drooped shoulders- had slid onto the floor, Toga made an effort to pick them up and stuff (piling) them next to the drowsy (y/n).

“I’m home, dollface!” A familiar voice hollered.

When both of the female’s heard that voice, there was no turning back to the past.

(Y/n) glanced to a duffel bag next to the couch, then glanced towards the teenager’s sinking rage as the blonde’s lips started to slip into a scowl.

A step almost turned into two, however, was held back by the puffy eyed female. “C-c-can I handle this…please?” They whimpered.

Toga really needs to gain a resistance to (y/n) cuteness when she’s sad.

Grabbing the duffel bag, two slippers shuffled (real smooth) around the couch to enter the hallway that led to the front door. Exactly where Dabi was about to take off his shoes.

“I recommend not taking your shoes off.” The pair of blue eyes looked up in confusion. “What? So, I can’t take off my own shoes in our home?” It sounded like a tease, but what if there was another meaning behind it?

Dabi, however, knew that familiar look of sharp-edges eyes where the glossy swirling of a singular emotion led to- and his teasing didn’t make the situation, he’s found himself in, any more light-hearted.

“This isn’t your home anymore,” Hissed (y/n), where (the fuck) did she get that attitude from?

“Who told you that you can throw me o—” The heavy duffel bag clutched in (y/n) clammy hands thud against Dabi’s chest, where his feet slid against the front door’s matt- his legs trembled at the impact the bag had on his chest- along with the rising cough that caught up to him after fleeing from a hero.

“Nobody—told me what to do.” Another sniff ensued, “But, I figured out the truth.” An eyebrow twitched upwards in anticipation as his hand bawled against his hip.

“Then tell me, what’s this big ass ‘truth’ you figured out?” Retorted the male with turquoise eyes watching her head droop towards the ground to hide something.

Raising it after a momentary pause, she glowered “You’re a bloody cheater, Touya.” When tears stained the red canvas again.

“Oh, so this is what it’s about…” Voice as nonchalant as shallow murky river water, “Do you even realise why I did it?” Rolling his eyes, two fingers wormed their way towards a special ring on her left hand before it hit the ground.

“I don’t want to know why.”

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

3. Jealousy

It was sudden, quick, and loud how Toga came into your (lonely) apartment.

Bang went the door against the wall and crash went the multiple shoes from the shoe cabinet as they thudded against the floor.

“(Y/N)-CHAN! I HAVE GOOD NEWS!” Her shout was louder than the moans you would usually make when it was a pleasurable night with your (new) ex, however you shouldn’t dwell on past relationships.

Only moving your eyes slightly from the book gripped tightly in your hands, Toga sauntered over holding a suspiciously large bag, this only led one ping-pong ball bouncing back to another ping-pong ball within the crevasses of your mind.

Placing a ripped piece of paper in the book, it snapped shut, “Who did you kill?” questioned (y/n)- knowing that when Toga finds something, she will resort to violence, no matter the cost-, however the sweet smile presented as a defence for whatever action she committed was enough dull your concern.

“Not telling ya!” Then getting a knife out- wait, where did that even come from-, Toga stabbed into the black plastic bag and tore it open with many- I mean tons- of clothes sliding out of the bag and becoming a miniature avalanche in the small space that is your living room.

“…H-how?” Sputtered (y/n), Toga replied: “Big sis’ Mags let us borrow some of her clothes!”

(Y/n) can only imagine how Toga managed to convince Magne to let her borrow some clothes off her, and by clothes, (y/n) could only assume its short skirts and dresses.

“But!” Added Toga, “we have to wait for Mr.C to pop up!”

Great, even Mr. Compress knows about your breakup with Dabi.

“Fine.”

Sitting pretty on a kitchen chair, a small brush lightly dabbed a small hint of colour against the rooftop of your eyes. “Why are we doing this, again?” Murmured the relaxed female as a small dress laid boringly over the torso where it edged closely to showing the backside of her thighs.

Chuckling in response to her inquisitive comment, the villain grabbed liquid eyeliner, although it was smacked out of his hand and replaced with pencil eyeliner matched with a scowl from his subject.

“Liquid eyeliner is cursed, don’t get that shit near me.”

“My, my, even somebody as classy as I wouldn’t offensively smack such an object—”

Oh boy, here we go again.

“Shush, I could easily get Big Sis Magne to beat your ass if you use that tone with me, sir.”— “Oh heavens no! I think Magne would pick my side out of the two of us!”— “Oh really now?”— “I believe—”

Another door slammed open and in stormed Toga in a confident catwalk down the hallway just to profoundly exclaim; “NOPE! SHE’LL CHOOSE ME AS THE CHOSEN ONE!”

Cue the laughter.

Before the sun was ready to roll itself out of the closet, the patchwork villain made his way under the thick cover of darkness to a certain broker’s office.

Pushing it open to let the light of the office room scream in his eyes before he even had the chance to speak, the older male that greeted him, offered him a seat.

“Hey Dabi, what brings you here to my humble abode?” Giran spoke out as the glistening cup of coffee placed in front of the wanderer reflected the light into its murky brown ripples. “I need you to trace this number to its origin, and quick.” Anxiously sliding his phone to showcase your number, the broker twitched his brow upwards.

“First and foremost, where’s the cash?” A thick wad of yen slammed against the table.

“Happy now?”— “Very much so!” Scowling at Giran’s happy chirp, the broker worked his magic on the burner phone to effectively trace the number back to your location, where Dabi soon enough made his way towards the destination you were at.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this…

Nor why he still keeps the ring…

However, he knows what he’s going to say next.

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

4. Anger

Simmering and low crackles of something in the kitchen of your apartment awoke the female from her drunken slumber.

What was being made and why does it smell so familiar? The waft of the meal being created swarmed the first stimulant within the hungover mind of yours truly as the wavering warmth rustled around your legs in an unspoken persuasive whisper to stay in bed.

However, curiosity killed the cat and also brought it back.

Two feet tapped the floor in alerted silence.

Tiptoeing across the room, a hand clenched the side of the doorway when two eyes surfed the surroundings outside of her den.

The sizzling stopped, with a small snap of fire going out.

At the same time this happened, it was then when she figured out who was in her kitchen: Him.

Him, with his tall stance that could make for a ladder to climb on or him with his broad shoulders that look like they were bricks squished underneath his skin, where his paired raven hair familiarly spiked up.

“What are you doing here?” If it wasn’t for the delicious food he was making, then you would’ve killed him on sight. A lacklustre glance at the female, he uses one of her spatulas to move the bacon from the frying pan onto a plate with plump golden coloured scrambled eggs.

“You were drunk, I brought you home, and am now making your hangover breakfast.” Placing the plate next to your arm resting against the counter, with another glance in your direction, Dabi made a finishing blow in the words of: “Since you can’t cook for shit.”

Oh boy, he knows you too well to expect your immediate reaction: anger.

From the built-up rage that started to stack up from days of unrest (and being bloated because of the several tubs of Bens & Jerry’s ice cream), it all started to splutter out of control.

“Oh-- So now your fucking attacking me after the shit you put me through?”

“Why should you know?” (Y/n) turned sour at his comment, “’Why’ I should know?!”

From the nearest counter, there was an empty glass. You took advantage of the potential weapon held it up ready for it to slam against the ground.

“(Y/n) -- put the glass down.” Warned the patchwork male.

With the tips of her ears feeling ever so hot, it felt like the pressure escalating within her ears caused only for her protests to be heard even through the pause of silence.

“(Y/n).” A small twitch of one of his feet made (y/n) flinch backwards. “Com’ on, I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He took another step toward, her grip tightened on the glass cup.

“Do you even know why I’m here?”

“No,” Moving her hand higher, Dabi took another step forward, (Y/n) took another step back, “And I don’t want to kno—” Blubbering a bit of salvia as the female attempted to speak, though it was incoherently heard through squished cheeks.

“Listen, for fucks sake,” Electric blue eyes pierced into your soul like a spear, it’s quite hilarious: You once loved those blue eyes of his, you once worshipped the feeling of his eyes raking down your nude body before- as they took in the sight of pleasure squirming and tightening underneath those diligently flexible fingers-, but those days are over.

He can worship your goddamn forgiveness if he’s going to restrain you like this.

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

5. Forgiveness

“That’s what happened.”

Two legs of your own were crossed over each other like two birds of a feather.

“Are you being honest with me?”

His hand tapped the table as he sat across from you.

“Yes, I’m being honest.”

Breathing inwards and releasing a slow, practiced breath. She glanced at the male’s awaiting expression.

“Okay…”

Biting his ruined lip, the raven-haired male let out a breath of relief.

“Will you forgive me?”

She wishes she could.

“I’m not so sure yet…”

Dabi looked to the side to see (y/n) with both of his eyes.

“But, I’ll give you one last try.”

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku, @haredabi, @orenjineki

JOIN THE VALENTINES WRITING EVENT HERE!

#tw: swearing #TW: Cheating #Fem! reader #dabi mha #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabixyou #Dabi lives rent free in my mind #mild yandere! reader #dorki talks like a dabi simp #dabi lives rent free in my mind #villain x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnhaxyou #mha #mha x reader

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i-need-air · 5 years ago

Text

King & Queen. – Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader.

Summary: Fluff, Baku being extra while confessing, social media shenanigans.

Word count: 1784.

It's 4 AM, I'm a mess but I needed to get this off my chest. I'm testing the waters with my writings, it's been forever since I wrote anything and I wanted to throw myself a little bit into the fandom I've been obsessed with for the past months. I do hope you enjoy it. ♥

Bakugou Katsuki took pride in having such a large following online. Ever since the first year UA Sports Festival, both his Twitter and Instagram accounts got thousands and thousands of followers, mostly crushing over him and others just hating on him, and in both ways he loved the attention.

The Aesthetics™ he had were always on point and his Twitter was just filled with one sentence tweets, re-tweets of famous heroes, a somewhat dry, dark and/or sarcastic meme from time to time, only and only if it fit (again) his aesthetics. Sometimes he'd engage with the Bakusquad, specially Kaminari and Mina, both very active users, and [Y/N], answering to her tweets with a one word roast and little more.

After the second year UA Sports Festival though? His social media reached the 100k mark, skyrocketing into a small celebrity as he won the first place for two years in a row. But what made him reach such a large number was the way he won. Their battle for the first place was insane, such a difference compared to what he had to deal with Todoroki in the past. [Y/N] put an amazing fight, there's no doubt to that, but the woman overused her quirk and he knew her weakness, mostly since he sometimes (rarely, almost never, pft) observed her train with Icy-Hot or Deku. It was a spectacle to watch and it has even been televised for a whole week afterwards, critics applauding how promising UA's students were. And that's how it all started.

The shipping.

Images and even fucking edited music videos of their fight were everywhere. It was so obvious both of them enjoyed the fight, the little grins they shared as they attacked each other, the small comments both threw and the camera and mics everywhere picked, the look Bakugou Katsuki gave [Y/N] when she kicked his ass. Such an adoration, followed by his insane grin, ready for a challenge. The look [Y/N] gave him, as he took the first place medal with pride from Endeavor, thriving at the applauses from the public. Stars were put to shame compared to the sparks in her eyes. Oh, and the moment their orbs made contact exactly after that? The chemistry.

Bakuy/n was one of their names online, apart from variations of their hero names mixed together. The fandom was slowly picking up a name, mostly going with the first mentioned. And Katsuki? He was fucking aware of everything. Her social media was on radio silence, but this event made him think. Actually think, not half-ass an idea and just throw himself head on into it. And the conversation he overheard was just making him plot now.

Mina and [Y/N] were actually discussing this exact topic. The pink girl was thriving for it. Her Twitter account was now filled with subliminal messages about love and it made her poor friend anxious. Basically because this issue hasn't been addressed at all with Bakugou and she planned to keep it that way. Yet Mina, sweet, adorable, loving Mina was just pressing on it really badly, but thankfully she never did when both sides of Bakuy/n were in the same room/conversation.

"Isn't it like so romantic?" Mina's eyes shined, hands clapped, her gaze looking somewhere in the distance, daydreaming.

"No, it's not, it's weird..." her [h/c] haired friend answered, falling more into the couch of their living quarters, trying to hide from the world.

"It would be if it wasn't obvious you pin for each other!"

"Oh, god, please stop saying that."

"You're not denying it though!"

"MINA!"

Laughter coming from the pinkette filled the room as the blond man decided not to interrupt and leave, small grin on his face as [Y/N]'s groans just told him what he needed to hear. She definitely did not deny the attraction and whatever chemistry they had.

Which leads to the current situation.

The girl was sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for Ochaco and Mina to come around, phone in hand as she scrolled mindlessly through Twitter, watching as her most recent tweet, the first one in ages, was getting attention. She giggled at Denki's stupidity, as he just posted a selfie of himself drenched in Diet Coke clearly in the UA bathrooms. Checking his replies she saw the boy she's been [kinda, lowkey, just a lil bit] trying to avoid for the past days.

[@BakugouKatsuki:]

"Dumbass."

[@MissPinky:]

"So THAT'S WHY U NEEDED MINTS!?!!!!!?? 🤣

She giggled again, entertained by her friends when her interactions just exploded. App actually crashed as she blinked while munching on some french fries dumbly.

As she tried to open her app again, both her friends landed by the table, joking about Kaminari and his never ending stupidity. Notifications popped again and again, legit confusing the girl to no end, making her ignore her two friends as they asked her what was going on, mainly because of her expression.

"The hell...?" she muttered, throwing the phone down while Twitter took its sweet, sweet time to load and open and just as she opened her mouth to answer Mina, she made eye contact with some very intense red eyes.

Clasping her mouth shut and ignoring Ochaco as she took [Y/N]'s phone to see what's going on, the girl could only focus on Bakugou, sitting a few tables away, facing her direction. She almost shivered in place under the intensity he was giving away, although his position was laid back, phone in one hand, chin in the other. And, again, gaze on her. He barely even blinked, his neutral expression giving nothing away and she knew she was blushing. Why was she a blushing mess under his gaze? Well, answer was obvious for everyone, even the whole internet now, but oh, she wished Bakugou Katsuki wasn't that sharp. Who are we kidding though?

Ochaco started to shake her out of her daze, interrupting the intense eye contact battle as she shoved her phone in her face.

"Oh. My. God." She muttered, stuttering her following words "Please, look at this, I can't believe it... Mina, check Twitter."

"If Kaminari threw Diet Coke and Mints in one of the bathroom toilets to 'experiment', I'm done with him." Mina responded but froze in place, just as [Y/N] looked away from the explosive boy. "Wait... WAIT!" her eyes almost popped out of her skull. "WHAAAAAAA–?!"

On the screen of her phone was the profile of the guy she's been crushing for... A year now? The guy that at first ignored her, then screamed at her, then beat her ass in training, then got his ass beaten by her, that scoffed at her shitty jokes, that actually chuckled at her shitty jokes, that studied with her, that smiled at her... The guy that complimented her when her quick improved. The guy that took her opinion seriously even when acting like he didn't care. The guy that stole her heart when he showed little glimpses of his complex persona only to her. The guy that fucking retweeted:

[@onlybakuy/nhere:]

"King & Queen."

And a picture attached, them shaking hands after their battle, ready to go get prepared for the podium. Bloodied, sweaty, yet both smiling at each other.

"I can't believe this–[Y/N]–" The brunette started rambling and fangirling besides her, but... With a careful glance, she peeked under her eyelashes to look at the boy again, her heart almost stopping when noticing he was still observing, small grin on his face hidden behind his hand, perfectly angled for her to see. "There's another one!"

Everything started to make sense, as she quickly checked her notifications to see the Internet™ just going crazy over that retweet. People started mass-following her, fans and stans just living for it, tagging her username with a screenshot of the retweet and now it hyped up again with... pictures of his profile? Did he change his description? He... changed his description. While there was absolutely nothing in there, now there was one single word. King.

Her eyebrows just rose so high her forehead hurt, the 3 braincells that were still somehow functioning were catching up to what the hell was going on and now she was positive, 100%, without a doubt that she was blushing like a mad-woman, a smile forming on her lips as she hit the retweet button on the same tweet he did and instantly opening her profile to edit.

Both her friends were freaking out by her side, accusing her of being way too calm in this situation, to explain but [Y/N] knew she couldn't utter any word, or even look up at them or at him. If she did, she'd break the spell, the moment, and as she deleted her description and only wrote a single word in her profile, her smile only widened. Hearing Mina screech after seeing her retweet, the girl giggled like an idiot.

Bakugou Katsuki was loud, brash, maybe a little bit emotionally constipated, rough around the edges, incredibly smart, observing, caring, awful with words but straight to the point with actions. And he was, without a doubt, fucking extra when doing things.

As she pressed the button Save on her profile, she caught him looking at his phone, being patted on the back by Kirishima, that somehow appeared in the frame yet was so distant in her field of vision as only he mattered at the moment. Waiting his reaction patiently and waiting for the internet to start freaking out again, her chest was hurting from the drumming of her heart. Hell, she knew she looked like a disaster with a flushed face, phone gripped so hard in her hand that it could break, a group of girls forming around her, noisy yet so distant. The world going in slow motion, seeing his crimson eyes widen for a fraction of a second, hiding more of his face in the palm of his hand as he still tried to look so casual, Kirishima's "Yeaaaaaaaah!" filled her ears as he tapped his finger on the screen, destination already clear. And when he saw what he needed...

He got up, leaving his tray of food behind, shit-eating grin basically parting the sea of people forming around them both as he marched towards where she was seated, and for the third time they made eye contact. His cheeks flushed, such a boyish expression coveting his normally angry features, mischievous and happy, relieved, just... Perfect.

Everything went in slow motion for her, his march, decisive and bold, as he always was, took to an end as he got to her, just giving her a hand and a raised brow, inviting her to leave with him anywhere but there.

And she took it without hesitation.

#bakugou x reader #Bakugou katsuki x reader #F!reader #bakugou katsuki #Mha #Bnha #Twitter #Social media #my hero academia #Boku no hero academia #Fluff #Bakugou is fucking extra #♥ ♥ ♥#Noire writes

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malereader-inserts · 4 years ago

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broken crown | xii.

“I’m vocalising this now,” You say to your boyfriend who looked unphased to the fact that you will exclaim about how dangerous something is - years of hearing you blabber on about it, “I just hope we don’t die.”

Word count: 2,331

You really didn’t know if this was going to work.

You stood here under the invisibility cloak with Harry as you look at Hermione and Ron pose as death eaters to get into Bellatrix’s vault. You and the rest had took off on the first of May, exactly when the potion was ready to be drunk. It had been three weeks since you last saw your dad, and you knew he was even more worried.

However, somehow all of you managed to get into the cart with a goblin under a spell. The cart hurtles through the darkness, ferrying the lot of you down the rickety rails, twisting and turning, sloping ever downward. Harry leans toward Griphook, who commandeers the cart.

“How long before they come after us?”

“Time will tell,” you hear Griphook answer, but you weren’t satisfied.

Harry’s eyes meet Griphook’s in the flickering darkness, before looking at you, Harry could tell that you weren’t happy with the answer. Then, Ron’s face appears over Harry’s shoulder.

“What’s that? Up ahead,” Ron points in the distance, directly over the tracks, something shimmers like a curtain of water.

“I should have known,” The goblin sneers, furiously, Griphook starts to throw levers, trying to slow the cart.

“What is that, Griphook?” You asked as the wheels screeched, throwing off sparks.

“Griphook! What is that!” Harry shouted this time, hoping the goblin would listen to him however Griphook doesn’t answer, furiously preoccupied with the cart.

Harry turns to Hermione, hoping she has an explanation since there was no point in asking you as you were also asking what it was to Griphool, but she just shakes her head, staring up ahead as Griphook slumps back, powerless, watching in grim resignation as the cart careens wildly down the rail and pierces the shimmering curtain. Instantly, water engulfs you and the rest with ferocious power.

The seats beneath them collapse, flipping downward and you drop in a cascade of roaring water toward the ground rushing up 30 feet below. You held your hand out, trying to focus whilst dropping down but slowly, one by one you splash down relatively gently and relatively unscathed. As the water drains away, you all peer upward, watching as alarms blare out, the cart rattles back the way it came.

“Well done,” Both Harry and Hermione complimented.

You tilted your head, “Hermione... you look like... you?”

Griphook nods to the waterfall, “The Thief’s Downfall. Washes away all enchantments. Can be deadly.”

Ron scoffs, “You don’t say,” watching as the cart’s alarms grow faint, “Just out of interest... is there any other way out of here?”

“No.” Griphook had replied as you stare at him grimly, never a fan of goblins you were.

“What the devil are you all doing down here!” You jumped at the new voice as everyone turn, seeing a soaking Bogrod, cleansed of the Imperius curse, backing away in angry confusion.

“We need him!” Griphook sneers as the other goblin points fingers at him.

“Is this your doing, Griphook? You have no rights here anymore. When you gave up your keys, you--”

Hermione and Harry raise their wands as you stand by idle, watching the little thing furiously rant away. As one of them was about to cast the spell they were too late. It was Ron, who lifted his wand quickest and cast the spell.

“Imperio!” Bogrod blinks, resumes his mild demeanour. Harry and Hermione turn, see Ron, wand outstretched. Griphook steps past, pushes Bogrod on.

“Well done.”

All of you watch the goblins go, as you exchange a glance with each other. Just then a moan is heard, deep and unsettling, coming from down the tunnel. Ron cocks his ear in disbelief

“No. It’s not possible...” Just outside Lestrange Vault, Ron appears first, trailed by Harry, you and Hermione, and finds Bogrod standing placidly by himself. As Harry and Hermione hang back, Ron moves forward slowly, squinting.

Something massive shifts heavily, chains clinking. They all look a giant dragon tethered to the ground, bars access to a deep vault. Its scales are pale and flaky, its eyes milky.

“That’s a Welsh Green,” You identified with a grim look

“It looks like it’s been down here forever,” Hermione follows up.

The hinges squeal sharply and you all jump, watching Griphook in the shadows take something from a wooden box on the wall. An odd-looking metal instrument. As he steps into the light, he tosses it to Hermione. She glances from it to Griphook, sees him eyeing her with a strange intensity.

“Go on,” He encourages as she looks unsure.

Then gives it a shake. A shrill ringing echoes of the rocky passage, eerie and unpleasant. The dragon rears back instantly, howling in fear, then, as the ringing subsides, settles. Ron nods knowingly.

“It’s been trained to expect pain when it hears the noise,” Ron explains as Hermione’s eyes flash to Ron, then to the scars on the dragon’s face and neck.

“That’s barbaric. I...” Hermione looked disgusted, she hands the instrument back, horrified.

Griphook takes it, unmoved, “We’ll only have a few seconds. In other words... they’ll be no do-overs. Understood?”

Everyone eyes the dragon, nod.

“Ready, Bogrod?” Griphook calls to the other.

“Hm? Oh. Yes. Of course,” Bogrod holds up his hand, waggles it. Griphook nods, eyes the dragon.

Its eyes glimmer angrily. Griphook raises the instrument and shakes it. The cacophony is murderous. You, Harry, Ron and Hermione grimaced. The dragon roars hoarsely, then slowly retreats. Bogrod strides forth, blissfully ignoring the dragon’s bobbing head and presses his hand to the vault’s door. It melts.

Everyone rushes inside. In the ensuing silence, the dragon spits fire just as the vault re-seals itself and all goes dark. You pulled your wand from your boot and held it out

“Lumos!”

Everyone’s wandtips bloom, illuminate a huge vault swimming in glittering treasure and eerie artefacts. You hear Ron softly curse at the sight as yu=ou chuckle under your breath

“Look,” Hermione crosses to what appears to be the Sword of Gryffindor, “No wonder Bellatrix thought it was real.”

Harry pays no attention, having drifted away from the others, playing his wandlight over the glittering walls. The others notice and go silent, watching. Griphook eyes Harry with particular curiosity.

Finally, Ron speaks, “Is it here, Harry? Can you feel anything?”

Harry doesn’t respond, his wandlight continuing to travel over the small treasures above. As Hermione watched, transfixed, her hand dangles nary a quarter inch from the lip of a silver bowl perched on the edge of the table beside her. The skin of Hermione’s wrist brushes the lip of the bowl.

Harry stares at the ancient cup above, glimmering dully in the light of his wand when Hermione yelps. As the others turn, they see her retract her hand, as if stung, sending the bowl tumbling to the floor. She holds up her wrist -- displays a red welt

“It’s hot!”

All eyes turn to the bowl, wobbling madly on the floor, when it splits apart and begins to multiply.

“They’ve added Gemino and Flagrante Curses!” Griphook explains loudly, “Everything you touch will burn and multiply!”

The multiplying bowls skitter across the floor and flip into the air. As one caroms off Ron’s shoe, it bursts into twenty more.

“Ron, your foot!” You pointed out to him as he tries to move it away.

It’s smoking as Ron stamps the ground. Harry pivots, tipping a towering stack of galleons to the floor where they multiply like cockroaches. Instantly, the room is a riot of multiplying white-hot metal.

“We’ll be crushed! Hurry!” Griphook shouts with great urgency.

Harry points his wand once again at the small cup near the ceiling, “That’s it. Up there.”

“How’re we going to reach it?” Hermione asked as Harry looks at her.

“Give me the sword! The real one.”

Hermione reaches into her beaded bag, tosses it to Harry, who catches it by the hilt. Griphook’s eyes glitter greedily at the sight of it, you hadn’t missed the glance and you detested the look. Instantly, Harry begins to scale the multiplying mountain of objects, climbing towards the cup, ignoring the look of Griphook, you watch your boyfriend worriedly.

As the sizzling surface shifts beneath his feet, he moves upward, beads of sweat trailing over his forehead. Suddenly, halfway up, he slips and instinctively to keep from falling, he reaches out and plants the flesh of his palm against the shifting slope.

Instantly, objects explode forth, multiplying crazily and cascading down onto you, Ron, Hermione and Griphook in a small avalanche.

“Keep going!” You shouted, a small tone of panic within your voice.

Harry climbs faster the sound deafening, objects clanging off one another until, finally, he stops just shy of the ceiling. Reaching out, he extends his arm further, then further still, and slips the sword’s tip through the cup’s handle. As it shimmies down the blade, a scream rises. Harry looks down, sees a terrified Bogrod pinned against the door, watching as Griphook sinks beneath the rising tide. Ron dashes forward, grabs Griphook’s fingers as he’s about to go under and yanks the blistered Goblin free.

“Harry! Behind you!” Hermione screeches in a hurry.

Harry turns and sees the swelling mountain has reached the ceiling and with nowhere else to go, it was about to spill itself down upon him. Turning back Harry leaps. He plummets, feet first, soaring through the air, then crashes down on the swelling treasure. The sword and cup fly free.

“The cup!” Ron exclaimed.

Harry dives into the scalding treasure, hand outstretched, and catches it. Instantly, dozens of Hufflepuff Cups burst from his fist, but he holds tight to the original, grimacing in pain.

“In here!” Hermione holds her beaded bag before Harry and he jams it inside.

As they turn for the door, they stop. Griphook holds the sword, the real sword, in his hands, turning the blade in the light.

“We have a deal, Griphook,” Harry spoke as Griphook looks up. A kind of madness burns in his eyes.

The Goblin sneered, “I said I’d get you in. I never said anything about getting you out.” Pivoting swiftly, he slams Bogrod’s hand to the door and as it melts.

You, Harry, Ron and Hermione ride an avalanche of silver and gold into the outer chamber. As you four find your feet, the dragon roars and spits fire, illuminating the tunnel. Shadows approach, stretching over the tunnel walls, it was the Gringotts goblins and guards.

Harry screamed, “Griphook! Griphook!”

But, Griphook merely looks back, grins madly and, sword in hand, rushes to join the approaching throng, “Thieves! Help! Thieves!”

“Foul little git. Least we’ve got Bogrod,” Ron tried to be positive however the dragon spits again, reducing Bogrod to dust, “That’s unfortunate.”

“You had to speak so soon?” You asked sarcastically as Ron gives you strained smile.

‘Stupefy!’ Harry bellowed.

Ron, you and Hermione joined in: jets of red light flew into the crowd of goblins and some toppled over, but others advanced, and Harry saw several wizard guards running around the corner.

The tethered dragon let out a roar, and a gush of flame flew over the goblins: the wizards fled, doubled-up, back the way they had come, and inspiration, or madness, came to Harry. Pointing his wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor he yelled, ‘Relashio!’ The cuffs broke open with loud bangs.

“This way!” Harry yelled, and still shooting Stunning Spells at the advancing goblins he sprinted towards the blind dragon.

“Harry – Harry – what are you doing?” cried Hermione.

“Get up, climb up, come on –”

The dragon had not realised that it was free: Harry’s foot found the crook of its hind leg and he pulled himself up on to its back. The scales were hard as steel: it did not even seem to feel him. He stretched out an arm; Hermione hoisted herself up; Ron climbed on behind them, and then lastly you with a second later the dragon became aware that it was untethered.

“This is one mad idea, Harry,” You exclaimed at him, throwing another spell towards the guards below as he smiles devilishly handsome towards you as you scoffed, “This is not the time for charms, Harry!”

You all huddle together as everyone starts to prepare to return to Hogsmeade, you stood in front of the three of them, pointing your wand as it lets out hot arm - drying themselves from the cold water in the lake. You had seemed to dry off quicker than them. Hermione gets changed, placing a spell upon the blanket to stop you, three boys, from looking.

You get changed, not wanting to get sick from the wet clothes. You had lost your bag when you were getting chased by the snatchers months ago, but luckily, Hermione had transferred your important books in her bag. You were too oblivious to think that carrying a backpack was survive the whole journey.

May was awfully warmer than usual as you tied your boots up again and shoving your wand in them. Harry turned to look at Ron who was just sporting a think jacket, Hermione had a denim jacket as well as a zip-up hoodie underneath. He turns to look at you, sporting a teal slightly bigger sweatshirt tucked into your jeans in the front. He could see a white short turtleneck underneath to give you some warmth.

“Hogwarts then,” You hummed to Harry, who nods meekly, “I wonder what it’s like under Snape’s rule.”

“Probably bloody horrible,” Ron exclaims as Hermione fixes his hair, you smile to yourself as Hermione looked at you with eyes telling you to shut up.

Harry sighs, leaning his head against your shoulder, “So do I.”

Tagged

@carefulthatsharassment-sir @lanlanlan020202 @hanniejji @dumbssbtch @lea-the-foxe @stan-joonies @littertortilla @purpleshusbandd @svnfiwer

#broken crown #Remus Lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #remus lupin x male reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x male reader

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

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300 followers gift fic: beach episode

instead of taking a writing break i finally finished the crackfic i promised for 300 followers! it’s a little weird and i,, kind of make fun of frank a little too much but i hope you enjoy the silliness nonetheless!

characters: david, dwight, steve, ace, quentin, frank, julie, susie, joey ship: david x dwight warnings: mild violence, mention of blood word count: 6950 (hELP)

David feels his feet hit the ground as he’s teleported into a trial, the fog of the Entity slowly clearing from his mind. He opens his eyes—

—and promptly has to close them right after because bloody hell it's bright!

“Woah! Look at this!” an awestruck voice exclaims from somewhere nearby, and David thinks it's Steve, finally managing to squint his eyes open enough to try to make out their surroundings.

As soon as he does so, he immediately decides he's hallucinating.

He's on a sunny beach. There's waves slowly rolling onto the fine white sand and the sun is shining bright, high up in the clear blue sky.

The only thing that stops David from being sure that he's dreaming is Steve smacking him on the shoulder and uttering an excited “Dude, are you seeing this?” because if he was dreaming he sure as hell wouldn't be here with Steve.

“Where are we?" a voice that sounds much more fitting for his dream pipes up from behind him, and David turns to find Dwight making his way over. "Did—did we escape…?” their leader's tired eyes are wide with hope, and he rubs his arms nervously and—

Holy shit, he's shirtless.

Steve is shrugging and replying something to Dwight, but David's brain can't comprehend anything that isn't Dwight and his surprisingly well-defined, freckled shoulders and the adorable chub around his waist and fuck, David bets his skin feels so soft—

“What do you think, David?” Dwight asks, and David forces himself to tear his gaze away from Dwight’s torso to his face. But then he has those big, brown eyes looking up at him and searching for guidance, like David is even half of the leader Dwight is.

“Don’t seem like a trial,” David manages to get out through the mess of thoughts that is his feelings for the man. “Should look around—you stay close to me, eh?” he urges their leader, despite knowing full well Dwight is more than enough capable of looking after himself.

He takes some comfort in the fact that despite Dwight being aware of that too, the man responds with a nod and a small, if a little shaky, smile.

“Come on guys, hurry up!” Steve calls from a short distance away, reminding David that they’re not, in fact, alone. They follow the excited teen, walking along the shoreline.

As Steve prattles on about how warm it is and pesters them about whether or not they know how to swim, David tries and fails to focus on their predicament and not let his eyes wander.

He notices Dwight is wearing red board shorts with a pizza slice pattern, and tries not to smile. He wonders if it’s something he owned in the real world, or that the Entity made up just for this occasion. Either way, they’re way cuter than they have any right of being.

“Dude, I like the shorts!” Steve’s voice finally gets through to David, probably because he’s looking a little too intently at Dwight’s neither regions, but then he thankfully turns to give David the same treatment. “Yours are… uh, kinda neat too!”

And for the first time David actually takes a look at his own outfit. He hadn’t even realized he was also in swimwear, so used to going shirtless trial after trial. But sure enough, the Entity has put him in dark blue swim shorts, and he snorts upon spotting the cartoony beer pint pattern. He sure as hell has never owned a pair that looks like this, so apparently the Entity is enjoying playing dress-up with them.

“I think yours are cool too,” Dwight returns the compliment and David goes back to glaring at Steve, who grins and shows off his (really fucking ugly, in David’s opinion) striped shorts with pictures of ice cream cones.

Steve, thankfully, doesn’t have time for what would no doubt be an obnoxious reply, the sounds of an argument drifting over to the trio.

“—you should let me do it! I have Plunderers!” David recognizes Ace’s annoying voice before he spots the man, standing over what looks to be someone searching a chest.

“And I have Pharmacy, so shut it,” Quentin’s messy mop of hair appears over the chest when he offers a half-hearted glare at the gambler.

“Nobody wants a dusty old med-kit!” Ace huffs, hands on his hips. “Who knows what else we could find?”

“Too late,” Quentin snarks and finally rips the lock off, Ace sighing in defeat as he opens the chest. “What the… what’s all this?”

“Oi, what’s going on?” David walks up to the duo. “Did’ya find somethin’?”

“Hey, buddy—” Ace greets before David shoves his way past the man, peering into the chest that has Quentin so confused, coming face to face with…

“Beach equipment?” Quentin summarizes, lifting a water gun and a towel from the chest.

“Cool!” Steve has joined them and, predictably, gets excited, grabbing the toy immediately.

“Have you two seen anyone else?” Dwight asks Quentin and Ace, trailing after Steve to join them.

“Nope!” Ace chirps, grabbing a pair of sunglasses and a beach towel from the box. “Looks like it’s just us, unless the rest are… I don’t know, out at sea?”

“Half expected to run into a killer,” Quentin muses. “Guess we got lucky it’s just the five of us instead.”

“Shame it's just dudes. I bet the girls would've—uh,” Steve says, before seeming to realize how desperate he sounds. “Really enjoyed it too…?” he finishes with a sheepish smile.

“Uh-huh,” Quentin deadpans. “I'm sure that's the reason.”

“It's a tragedy the new guy isn't here," Ace sighs wistfully. “I’d pay good money to see him shirtless.”

David rolls his eyes while Dwight, embarrassed, chokes on nothing.

“Y-you shouldn't talk about Felix like that,” their leader stammers, completely oblivious to how David was ogling him earlier.

“Just saying what half of the camp is thinking,” Ace shrugs.

“I wonder if Jane's coming?” Steve seems to realize, glancing around as if expecting more people to pop up out of thin air.

“You're both disgusting,” Quentin snorts, starting to walk away from the group. “I'm going for a swim."

“But we don't know if it's safe!” Dwight calls after him.

"I mean… if I drown in Entity goo, don't come after me," Quentin merely responds, putting on some swimming goggles and making his way to the shoreline.

“I wonder why Quentin’s in a speedo and the rest of us have trunks?” Steve thinks out loud, and sure enough, David realizes he’s right, noticing Quentin’s swimwear when he swan dives into the ocean.

“Didn’t he use to do competitive swimming?” Dwight points out, because of course he would, because nobody knows any of them quite as well as Dwight, because he’s an amazing leader and friend and—

David’s train of thought comes to a halt when he glances around and notices what has to be a crime against fashion.

“I’d rather a speedo than whatever the fock tha’ is,” David snorts, gesturing to where Ace is laying his beach towel, wearing a pair of hot pink swimming trunks with a banana pattern, along with a trashy, bright yellow aloha shirt. Apparently he’s gotten so used to the man’s questionable style that he didn’t even notice the travesty until now.

“Aww, come on David!” Ace grins, taking his jab in stride. “I know you really wanted some pink shorts too.”

“It’s kinda funny that the Entity gave us shorts with our favorite food!” Steve grins while rummaging through the supplies in the chest. “I love ice cream, Dwight obviously likes pizza, and David beer, and Ace—”

“Cock,” David finishes the sentence, eyeing the banana shorts suspiciously, while Ace bursts out laughing, Steve’s eyes fly wide open and Dwight sputters something unintelligible.

“David!” Dwight finally manages to scold him, face red from embarrassment. “You can’t just say stuff like that—”

“Yeah yeah, sorry luv,” David grins apologetically, immediately cursing himself for letting the pet name slip. “’M goin’ for a swim too,” he decides, making his way to the water to try to get his thoughts in order.

David’s never been much of a beach person, not having enough patience to sunbathe and not a huge fan of swimming, either. But he can’t deny the warmth from the sun, even if fake, feels nice, and the soft sand under his feet is pleasant. When was the last time he even walked barefoot?

His toes touch the water and that’s where the pleasantness ends because goddamn, it’s cold! David can’t remember the last time he felt an actual chill, as the Entity seems determined to make sure they’re never too hot or too cold, even the snowy grounds of Ormond feeling room temperature.

But now, David has to grit his teeth as cold shoots through his system just from dipping his toes in. He glances at Quentin, still swimming around without a care in the world, and can’t imagine how the hell the teen managed to dive right in without going into shock.

David glances over his shoulder, wanting to see if someone’s looking at him freaking out over the water like a scared kitten. Steve is still engrossed in pulling out all the contents of the crate, before he hands a bottle of something to Dwight, who squirts some into his hand and starts—lord have mercy—lathering himself up with the sunscreen.

And David is helpless to do anything but stare, seeing Dwight work the creamy substance into his equally creamy skin, starting with his arms and then working it into his chest. He runs his hands down his torso, covering himself self-consciously when the softness around his belly jiggles slightly with the movement, and god what David wouldn’t give to be able to do that for him. He’d work the lotion into the skin nice and slow, taking his time and making sure to murmur how perfect Dwight looks and how good his body feels—

David’s brain does the equivalent of a record screech when his perfect, half-naked angel walks up to Ace, of all people.

“Ace, can you… uh, give me a hand with my back…?” Dwight asks nervously, holding out the bottle of sunscreen, and David thinks he's going to burst a vein from how much his blood pressure rises upon hearing the request.

Ace sits up on his elbows, before looking over his sunglasses with a smirk like the disgusting pervert he is, and David swears that if he lays a finger on Dwight's bare skin he's fucking throwing fists—

But then Ace's eyes meet his and a trimmed eyebrow raises in acknowledgement, still with that infuriating smirk on his face, and David's anger gives way to mortification because shit, what if Ace knows about his little crush?

To his relief, Ace just ends up sighing.

“Can you ask someone else? I'm kind of busy,” the gambler says, flopping back down to lay on his towel.

“Oh, okay…” Dwight says, looking so disappointed, and David’s breath catches in his throat because this is his chance!

“What the fuck, Ace?” Quentin emerges from the waves beside him before he can do anything. “Not everyone has your complexion. Some of us burn really easily,” Quentin scolds, walking up to the duo and no doubt glaring at the gambler. “Come on, I’ll help you,” he offers to Dwight, who returns a grateful smile.

Quentin starts rubbing the cream onto Dwight’s back, and then has the nerve to ask if Dwight can return the favor, so David grits his teeth and marches into the ocean to cool off so he doesn’t end up pile driving the teen into the sand.

He only manages to get deep enough for the water to reach his junk before he instantly regrets the decision, the cold making things shrivel up unpleasantly. He ends up just ducking his head into the water and wading back to shore, hoping that Dwight the others didn’t see him chickening out for the second time in a row.

The others are still engrossed in their own activities, Steve filling up the water gun in the shallows and Ace looking to doze off in the sun, Quentin and Dwight chatting nearby.

And nobody sees the strange group approaching from the treeline behind them.

“Oi!” David calls, getting the attention of his friends and picking up the pace to get to Dwight in case the strangers mean bad news. “Hope yer not lookin’ fer trouble,” he addresses the new group, causing the others to finally take notice of their company.

“Who’s that?” Quentin asks with a frown, taking in the sight of four people, two girls and two guys, dressed in swimwear and one of the boys even carrying a large swim ring on his shoulder. The group’s animated chatter dies down as they seem to notice their company.

“Oh my god, this is fucking typical!” one of the group, a young woman with blonde hair and a plaid bikini, scoffs in offense.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here!?” a skinny man with very questionable choice of swimwear, pastel purple board shorts with rubber ducks, demands.

“Fuck me, is the Entity pranking us?” the other man sighs, dressed in much more bland swimwear with black and white skulls.

“Aww,” the final member pouts, twiddling with her bright pink braid over her pink and black bikini. “Frank, you didn’t tell us there’d be others!”

David’s brow furrows upon hearing the name; it sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it. Luckily, Dwight is much more of a quick thinker than he is.

“L-legion?” Dwight squeaks, his eyes going wide in fear, and David is now back to full alert because he’s right, they group is definitely the killers, David just didn’t connect the dots because of how normal the kids look.

“What, you gonna scream? Cry?” the leader, Frank, taunts obnoxiously, strutting to the front of his posse. “How about you guys go fuck yourselves and leave the beach to us, before someone gets hurt?”

Dwight takes a step back while David takes one forward, anger bubbling up because who the fuck does this prick think he is—

“Nice swimmies, Franky,” Quentin suddenly pipes up, making David stop in his tracks. “Did your mommy pick them out for you?”

“Tch—” Frank balks, his face scrunching up in anger even as redness rises up on his cheeks.

“He might have lost a small bet,” the pink-haired girl, David doesn’t recall her name, quips cheerfully in response.

“Shut up, Susie!” Frank hisses at his friend, before turning back to point at Quentin accusingly. “Of course you had to bring this waste of space, too!” he seems to direct the complaint at Dwight.

“S-sorry—” Dwight starts.

“Don’t,” David orders, placing a large hand on Dwight’s shoulder and stepping between their leader and the Legion’s. “This arsehole don’t deserve yer apology."

“Oh yeah?” the bigger guy, David thinks he remembers hearing his name is Joey, steps forward to back up his friend. Unfortunately, he doesn’t intimidate David in the slightest, especially not with only an inflatable beach toy as his weapon. “Maybe you should think twice about picking a fight.”

“Guys…” the blonde girl starts, sounding exasperated.

“Come on Jules, knives or not, we can take them. Easily,” Frank tells her, and David notices both Dwight and Quentin tense next to him, preparing himself to dodge a swing any second now—

“Ahoy, ladies!” Steve suddenly shoves his way to the front of the group, offering the two girls a cheeky grin and cocking his water gun against a hat he doesn’t have. “Would you like to set sail on an ocean of—” he falters, looking around the beach in thought. “…Water?”

There’s a moment of silence following Steve’s interruption, the tension in the air effectively disappearing as everyone stares at Steve with varying levels of amusement and disbelief.

“Um,” the pink-haired girl—Susie—comments, regarding the teen skeptically.

“Aww, he’s even more of a dork outside of trials,” the one named Jules—for Julie, right?—coos patronizingly. “Look at him with his little toy!”

“Thanks! You wanna have a watergun fight?” Steve is either completely oblivious to the jab or takes it in stride.

“I’ll shove that fucking gun so far down your throat—” Frank threatens.

“Kinky!” Quentin comments cheerily.

“Oh you’ll regret that—” Frank snarls.

“Children!” Ace’s yell snaps them out of the ensuing argument, everyone turning to face the man who has apparently finally decided to grace them with his presence.

“Ugh, it just keeps getting better,” Julie snarks sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“While apparently you guys had a negotiation with the Entity, we have no idea why it decided to put us here,” Ace explains with a friendly smile, ignoring the snide comment. “So why not try to make the most of it? There’s more than enough room for all of us. We’ll stay out of your hair if you do the same,” he says, giving a pointed stare at David and Quentin.

“Okay!” Susie beams.

“What? No it’s not!” Frank argues.

“Why not?” the girl whines. “I don’t wanna waste time fighting. This was supposed to be our day off.”

“So we gonna beat them up or what?” Joey seems to be getting impatient. “If not, I wanna go swimming.”

“Yeah, same,” Julie agrees. “Let’s just leave them be.”

“Fine,” Frank spits, glaring at each of the survivors in turn. “You’d better stay the fuck outta my sight.”

David wants to argue and he can sense Quentin does too, the teen biting his lip to suppress what would no doubt be a snarky comment. The only thing stopping David from picking a fight is Dwight’s hesitant hand on his arm, a wordless plea to not make the situation worse, and Frank would have to push a whole lot harder for David to ever deny Dwight.

“Looks like we have a deal,” Ace smiles, his shoulders sagging just the tiniest bit from relief.

There’s a silent understanding when the killers start making their way to one side of the beach while Ace motions for them to head back to theirs, and the situation looks to be peacefully resolved.

“Hey, you guys should check out the stuff the Entity gave us!” Steve suggests, inviting them right back over, most likely unintentionally, but it still makes Dwight sigh and David can even hear Ace groan in exasperation.

“I give up,” Ace sighs with a wave of his hand, leaving them to fend for themselves for when another fight inevitably breaks out.

David doesn’t really care if the killers grab some of the items meant for them, but it’s the principle of the thing, and his hands ball into fists while the teens rummage through the chest.

Susie eventually pulls out an inflatable pool toy with a unicorn that says ‘princess’.

“Oh my god, look how cute!” she squeals, holding up the toy.

“I bet it's Dweeb's,” Frank smirks smugly.

That's it, he's going down—

“You take that back!” David snarls, stepping forward aggressively.

“David, please!” Dwight protests.

“Yeah, can you guys not?” Julie sighs, rolling her eyes while procuring a pair of sunglasses from the chest.

“No one's impressed by this alpha male bullshit,” Quentin agrees.

“Not my fault this cocksucker can't take a joke—” Franks starts.

“Yer the one who's too much of a pussy to fight!” David accuses. “Let's go, right now!”

“Guys!” Joey yells. “If you really wanna butt heads, how about we play for it instead?” he asks, grabbing a volley ball from the trunk. “Our team versus yours. Winner gets bragging rights.”

“Oh, we're totally in! Right guys?” Steve, predictably, is all over the game.

David frowns. It's been years since he's played beach volley, but how hard can it be? Especially compared to his scrawny opponent; Frank probably hasn't done a day of sports in his life.

“Fine,” he spits.

“Fine,” Frank smirks.

“I'm in,” Quentin offers.

“Come on, Suz," Julie offers.

“You know I suck at sports!” the girl whines, but obediently goes to stand with the group.

Still missing one member for their teams to be even, everyone looks at Dwight.

“M-m-me!?” he squeaks.

Frank looks like he's about to say something, but is interrupted by Joey shoving the net into his arms.

“Come help me set this shit up,” Joey says with a pointed look and Frank rolls his eyes and complies.

Huh. Maybe that Joey guy isn't so terrible.

“Yeah, who else? Ace?” Steve is doing his best to encourage Dwight. “He’d probably throw his back out or something.”

“I heard that!” the gambler calls from his lazing around spot.

“And I'm sure you're better than you realize!” Steve continues, ignoring the comment.

“But I've never played,” Dwight says, still hesitant.

“You'll pick it up in no time,” Quentin encourages. “You don't even have to do much, we'll cover for you.”

“I don't know…”

“Pleeeaaase?” Steve whines and even pouts, clearly pulling out all the stops. “We really wanna play and if you don't we won't have enough players."

Dwight looks at David, and David does his best to give an encouraging smile.

“Come on, mate,” he says. “You’ll have fun, promise.”

That’s a lie, but David just really wants Dwight to be there to witness him kicking Frank's ass.

“Okay,” Dwight finally relents, looking away from David with a sigh.

Steve cheers loudly and soon enough, they’ve joined the Legion who have finished setting up the net and the game can begin.

It turns out the teams are surprisingly even. Steve and Joey are the best players by far, managing difficult serves, covering for the others and even extending to get shots David didn't even think possible.

Quentin and Julie aren't far behind in skill, not having the precision of their respective team captains but still succeeding in keeping the ball in play.

David likes to think he's better than Frank, but neither of them are doing too well, missing shots that should have hit and even causing the ball to fly out of bounds.

Dwight and Susie are the worst by far, with Dwight landing wet noodle passes at best and mostly just trying to stay out of the way. Susie is nearly actively sabotaging her team, squealing and covering her head if it looks like Steve or Quentin are going for a particularly rough hit.

Steve looks to be enjoying himself thoroughly, and David thinks he tones down some of his shots to prolong the game and give the others a chance. Quentin on the other hand is surprisingly competitive, often aiming for Susie's corner which is their opponent's weak link.

David mostly focuses his efforts on aiming at Frank's face, and from the way the teen keeps snarling and glaring at him, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

The Legion eventually turning against each other is kind of funny.

“Jesus, Frank, you suck ass,” Julie complains, watching the ball fly over the line when Frank hits it at a weird angle.

“I mean I’m not surprised that you guys know how to handle balls,” Frank snarks. “Personally, it’s not something I’d be proud of.”

“Then why did you spend three years practicing basketball?” Susie jokes, making her leader fume.

The survivors' camaraderie on the other hand is high, even as the scores are neck-to neck and adrenaline is running high. Steve takes every opportunity to encourage Dwight when he fails, and Quentin commends him when he makes a good play.

It should maybe make David jealous, but he's just happy to see Dwight smile and enjoy himself. He wishes he had the tact of the two to praise him too, feeling way more comfortable with showing off his athletic skill than actually talking to Dwight.

“Shit—” Steve dives into the sand and barely manages to save the ball after a particularly nasty serve from Julie. He doesn't get a clean hit, and the ball swerves a curve to the left instead of to the right where David was prepared to set it up, narrowly missing Quentin's head.

And then Dwight comes out of nowhere, managing to redirect the ball back into play, and David is so fucking excited he nearly misses the hit, but thankfully manages to get it over the net and Susie doesn't even seem to try to stop it.

“Go Dwight!” she cheers.

“Nice work, dude!" Steve whoops, spitting some sand from his mouth.

“I, uh,” Dwight is clearly flustered.

“That's what I'm talkin' about!” David encourages, smacking Dwight on the back and causing him to stumble forward.

"T-thanks,” Dwight smiles nervously.

“You done kissing ass?” Frank snarks, glaring at Susie.

“Yup, now we're gonna kick yours,” Quentin shoots back.

“Come on guys, 18 to 20! We can do this!” Steve encourages, and everyone gets back into position.

Julie serves again, and Quentin catches it. They get the ball over easily, and Joey raises it. Julie is in position to set it up it, and Frank jumps into the air, and David just hopes he misses the shot—

The ball whizzes past Steve and Quentin in front, and it's going way too hard to land within bounds, so that’s a free point for them—

But then David realizes the trajectory it's on, and time seems to slow down to a crawl as it hits Dwight square in the face with a sickening smack.

And David sees red.

When he comes to, he's on top of a struggling Frank and there are arms trying to restrain him from behind. The voices sound faraway and muddled because of the overwhelming sound of blood rushing in his ears. His arms are held back, so he headbutts Frank instead, and feels a sick sense of glee when he hears the crunch and Frank yelping out a curse.

“That’s enough, man! Cut it out!” a voice he doesn't recognize cuts through the haze, and David snarls, elbowing whoever it is in the gut. The restraint against his left hand gives way, and he's about to shrug out of the hold, ready to beat the living shit out of Frank—

And then he takes a bucketful of sea water to the face and it's fucking cold bloody hell—

“Merda—would you behave for two fucking seconds!?” Ace is yelling at them, angry for being disturbed again, a telling empty bucket in his hands.

The shock from the cold is the only thing that makes David resist the urge to redirect his anger in the form of his fist meeting the gambler's face.

“Steve, take David to cool off and punch a palm tree of something,” Ace commands like a frustrated mother. “And you three, make sure Frank doesn't do something stupid… well, stupider. Quentin, you’re helping me clean Dwight’s face.”

At the mention of Dwight, David snaps out of it and anxiously starts looking around to search for the man in question, soon noticing Quentin crouched by him and Susie anxiously fluttering nearby.

Seeing Dwight's bloody face breaks his heart, but luckily their leader seems to only have a nosebleed, even if the blood running down his face looks kind of gruesome. David hopes he didn't break his nose.

His anger threatens to bubble up again; if Frank ruined that pretty face—

“Okay big guy, let's go!” Steve apparently notices his shift in mood and is quick to drag him off.

David half-heartedly tries to protest but Steve isn’t letting up, and David follows him to the treeline just to get him to shut up.

Steve finds some coconuts and David takes the opportunity to punch one as hard as he can, pretending it’s Frank’s face. His knuckles sting and will probably bruise but it’s worth it, the loud crunch as the shell splits open making him smirk smugly.

When they get back to the others, Steve carrying a lapful of coconuts and David flexing his sprained hand but otherwise successfully calmed down, the others seem to be faring better too. Dwight’s face is a lot less bloody and he’s smiling shakily to something Ace says while holding what has to be a cold towel to his nose. The Legion are huddled near their leader, who’s slowly bruising cheek seems to be making him pout. Even if Joey is holding back snickers, Susie is trying to encourage Frank and Julie is patting him on the back in solidarity, proving that despite their bickering, the group does seem to care for each other.

“Hey, Frank,” David suddenly catches Quentin’s voice and sees a smug smile on the teen’s lips from where he’s approaching the killers. “I bet you can't swim.”

“Can too!” the gang’s leader says, predictably taking the bait and his pout immediately replaced by a defiant smirk. “Wanna race?”

When Quentin just clicks his tongue, pretending to be in thought, David knows Frank is in for a humiliation.

“Sure,” Quentin says, not giving anything away.

David eagerly waits for the two to get in position, a little jealous of how readily they get into the cold ocean water with barely a shiver. Steve gives a countdown, and then they’re off, Quentin effortlessly taking the lead and Frank falling further and further behind.

David doesn't feel the slightest bit bad for laughing, eager for the bastard to get any form of payback. Sadly, it doesn't really have the same impact when the rest of the Legion join in to make fun of their leader.

“You go, Franky!” Julie fake cheers between wheezes.

“Nice doggy paddle!” Joey laughs.

“You can still beat him! …If he drowns?” Susie tries to encourage.

After the race, Steve asks David for his help with cracking the coconuts, and even though David really just wants to talk to Dwight he can’t help but puff up his chest and flex a little from the teen obviously seeing him as the strongest of the group.

Later, the sun is already starting to set and David’s knuckles are even more bruised than before. The pain doesn’t bother him and the physical strain of the day has made him mellow out more than usual. When he notices Dwight sitting by himself by the shoreline, he finally gathers the courage to go talk to the man alone.

It looks like a day in the sun has done wonders for the group, lazy chatter and quiet laughter coming from friend and foe alike, scattered around the beach.

The girls have apparently ended up hanging out with Ace, Susie even wearing the gambler’s ugly shirt to protect herself from the now chilly ocean breeze.

“—and the Oktoberfest outfit, with the undercut? Swoon,” Julie says, doing a fake fainting motion into Susie’s lap, and Ace laughs and Susie giggles and bloody hell, are they still talking about Felix?

A bit further away, Steve and Joey are passing the volley ball in good camaraderie. David catches the end of a silly joke from Steve followed by snorting laughter from Joey, and it does kind of make sense that they’d befriend each other.

In the water, Quentin is still swimming while Frank lounges in the swim ring, taunting him. That is, until Quentin flips the ring and laughs, and Frank splutters and flails and hangs onto it like a lifeline.

David finally reaches Dwight, who doesn’t seem to notice him arriving, staring out over the horizon and looking to be deep in thought.

“Hey,” David makes his presence known, and as soon as those gorgeous brown eyes turn to look at him in surprise, the stupid nerves at the pit of David’s stomach resurface.

“Hi,” Dwight says with a small, tired smile. “Has everyone finally calmed down?”

A pang of guilt shoots through David’s chest at the words, recognizing his own part in creating most of the drama of the day. If he’d behaved himself, maybe Dwight wouldn’t have ended up hurt.

“Yeah,” David says, offering an apologetic grin. “Everyone seems ta be gettin’ along. Never thought I’d see the day we’d be hangin’ out with killers.”

“Hmm,” Dwight hums in though, turning back to watch the sunset. “Some of them are not that different from us.”

Seeing Dwight so calm and rational, David feels even worse for his numerous temper tantrums. He just wanted to protect Dwight.

“’M sorry ‘bout yer nose,” David sighs as he sits down next to the man.

“You didn’t do anything,” Dwight reassures. “I was just… wrong place, wrong time.”

“If I didn’t egg the wank—Frank on, it wouldn’t ‘a happened,” David argues, doing his best to swallow his resentment for the teen in question.

“It’s okay,” Dwight says, offering him a genuine smile. “I know you were just trying to stick up for us.”

David wants to come clean, to say everything he did was for Dwight, even if it only made things worse in the end. But no matter how much of a bravado he usually puts on, David knows he’s a real fucking pussy when it comes to emotions.

“Yeah,” he agrees like an utter coward.

“Thank you,” Dwight says anyway, smiling serenely like the absolute angel that he is, ready to forgive all of David’s dumb mistakes.

It suddenly hits him that Dwight always seems way more calm when they’re alone together, a stark contrast to him fidgeting and tripping over his words when they’re in a group and he’s put on the spot. Conversely, David’s confidence seems to fly out of the window as soon as he’s left alone with Dwight, desperately trying to appear casual while his heart does its best to beat out of his chest.

For some reason, Dwight enjoys and maybe even thrives in his company, and David in turn has never met anyone so understanding of his anger issues. He knows they’d be so good for each other—

Fuck it.

“Actually,” David starts, swallowing a lump in his throat but forcing himself to push through the embarrassment. “I didn’t do it fer them. I wanted to protect you.”

Dwight’s cute face twists in confusion, and David tries his best to keep unwavering eye contact despite wanting nothing more than to run away from the situation and his feelings.

“Oh,” Dwight finally says, and David thinks he catches the beginning of a blush before he averts his eyes. “I guess I am kinda weak, haha.”

“The hell ya are,” David argues. Damn, that’s not what he was going for at all, why is he so fucking bad at this— “Yer smart and determined an’ I really admire that about ya. Yer the best leader we could’a asked for, an’ even though ya don’t need protectin’, I just…”

David falters. He was doing so well, even managing to not put his foot in his mouth, but this is it. If he confesses his feelings, there’s no going back.

He looks up and meets Dwight’s eyes, and as soon as he sees the man who stole his heart look up at him with such blatant hope, he knows he has to try.

“I just care about ya,” he settles on.

Dwight swallows and his eyes search David’s face, and David doesn’t even dare breathe—

“Like… like a friend…?” Dwight croaks out, his voice now unsure and shaky, but he’s not looking away.

“Nah,” David says, shaking his head for emphasis. “Never saw ya as just a mate.”

Dwight’s cheeks flare red and he ducks his head, but David catches the dopey little grin before it disappears from his view.

“I—um, wow,” Dwight chuckles, fidgeting with his hands and not quite seeming to know how to react.

“Whaddaya say, luv?” David pushes, resisting the urge to pull the adorable geek into his arms and snog him silly. “Wanna do this?”

Fuck, hopefully he’s not being too forward. Dwight doesn’t seem like the type to have had plenty of relationship experience, but then again neither has David. Usually, he only had to flex a bit after one of his fights and wait for a bird or bloke to stroll up and make it clear they fancied him.

But those were easier times, and now he’s in a strange world within another dimension with a ragtag group of friends and confessing to a man he’s fallen for harder than he ever thought possible.

“Of course I want to do this,” Dwight mutters, sounding almost offended as he finally looks up at him with a smile. “I just never thought you’d go for someone like me.”

“Wha’, someone as perfect as you?” David smirks, nudging Dwight in the ribs with his elbow and causing a cute chuckle to escape the other’s lips. “Don’t sell yourself short, luv; I got high standards.”

“If you say so,” Dwight relents.

Despite Dwight self-consciously covering the cute rolls on his tummy with his arms, his smile is the brightest David has ever seen. They stare into each other’s eyes in silence, David with a dumb grin and Dwight with a bashful smile, and David feels so stupid that he didn’t see it before.

“Gonna give me a kiss?” David’s mouth says without his permission, the filter between his mouth and brain even more flimsy than usual because of the fluttering in his gut.

“I m-mean, my face is pretty busted up," Dwight stutters and turns his face away. “You probably don’t want to—I look even worse than usual, haha.”

“Bollocks,” David scoffs, leaning to nudge his forehead against Dwight’s temple. “Yer the cutest thing I ever seen.”

Dwight glances at him but still looks unsure, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in a nervous habit.

“We don’t gotta if ya don’t wanna,” David reassures. “But don’t hold back on my behalf—”

And that’s all he has time to say before a surprisingly eager mouth crashes against his own, the rest of his sentence muffled against Dwight’s lips.

Wholeheartedly on board with the sudden turn of events, David’s arms wrap around Dwight as of their own accord while he hurries to reciprocate. Dwight’s lips are chapped but so incredibly warm, and the enthusiasm with which he goes at it is making David’s heart swell—

“Shit,” there’s a pained hiss against his lips when Dwight tilts his head and bumps their noses together.

“Easy, luv,” David murmurs, tilting his head at more of an angle to avoid Dwight’s injury. He gently coaxes the inviting lips right back in and Dwight makes a sound of approval low in his throat.

Every fantasy David has had about this moment can’t compare to the real deal. Granted, his imagination has always been kind of shit, and there was no way he could have pictured just how amazing it is to kiss Dwight and how perfect he feels in David’s arms. He tastes a tinge of blood when he licks into Dwight’s mouth, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, if anything it just eggs him on—

A loud wolf whistle carrying over the beach suddenly reminds him that they’re not alone.

Dwight pulls away much faster than David, turning to face their companions with a sheepish grin and a deep flush, while David lazily turns around to glower at the group.

Steve is still whistling from where he’s joined Ace and the girls, not threatened by David in the slightest. Then, to his annoyance, Julie starts clapping sarcastically and Susie hides her giggles into her friend’s shoulder.

“Ugh, finally!” Ace comments, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation, making David redirect his glare to the gambler.

“What,” David barely hears Quentin’s incredulous voice mutter nearby, still swimming with Frank and with Joey now having joined them.

“Uh. Congrats,” Joey offers, giving them an awkward thumbs up.

Frank, predictably, says nothing, only scoffing in disgust. Which, to be honest, is much more polite than David would have reacted if the roles were reversed.

“What are you—when did you—?” Quentin keeps going, looking so confused it makes even David snort out a half-laugh.

“Well, at least someone didn’t figure it out before these two idiots,” Ace sighs melodramatically.

“Seriously, doesn’t take a genius to notice them eye fucking each other all the time,” Steve grins, and holy hell, David really has been living under a rock if even Steve had figured out Dwight’s feelings before him.

He tunes out the others’ teasing as soon as a warm hand gently grabs his.

“Come on,” Dwight encourages with a playful smile. “Let’s go get it over with.”

His mood instantly elevating, David pulls them to their feet and rejoins their friends with his hand still clasped in Dwight’s. There’s some good-natured banter on their expense but that’s to be expected, and even though David half-heartedly threatens to clock Ace in the face for a questionable joke, he feels calmer than he has in years.

Dwight doesn’t leave his side for the entirety of their remaining time on the beach or when they’re teleported back to the campfire. And even if they have to go through the playful teasing and looks of disbelief a second time, David takes it in stride because he has the person he always wanted right by his side.

It takes way too long to get a moment alone from their nosy friends, but eventually, David manages to pull Dwight away from the camp to pick up where they left off at the beach, this time uninterrupted.

When Dwight breaks the kiss only to look up at David, with his bruised nose and some wetness in his eyes, murmuring that this is the best day of his life, David can’t help but agree.

#dbd fanfic #kingfield #dweetwrites #david king #dwight fairfield #dbd #dead by daylight #steve harrington #ace visconti #quentin smith #dbd legion #frank morrison #julie kostenko #dbd susie #dbd joey

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ikleesfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Words count : 3,679 words Author's note : N/A Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1

This fic is part of Will you follow through if I fall for you? series

Part 2

After sipping the last of his morning coffee, Will Halstead pulls out his phone to call his brother, Jay.

"Good morning, dearest brother," Will says in his greeting. "Is it a good time to talk? You're not currently kicking doors, chasing perps, are you?" He jokingly asks. It has not yet passed seven in the morning. But it is always a possibility with his cop brother.

Jay takes the call, still half asleep, "This is not a good way to wake up. Just so you know,"

"Is there any better way to wake up than listen to your brother's lovely voice?" Will continues his humor.

“Lots of things are better than this,” Jay fusses, “So, what's up? and it's better to be important,"

Will begins to tell the story, "Owen got in an incident a few days ago at the swimming pool,"

"Damn! What happened? Is he okay? Is he at the hospital now?" Jay suddenly comes awake.

"Calm down, you worrywart. Let me finish. Owen and his friends were playing, a bit careless in the pool. He almost drowned, but someone rescued him. We checked him out at Med. Owen is okay now. Said he cannot wait to go back to the pool," concludes Will.

"Oh, thank god. That kid is so reckless. I should probably teach him another swimming lesson, right?" Jay suggests to his brother.

"Maybe in a while. Nat is still not sure she can let Owen back in the pool," Will thinks.

"That's understandable. But living in Chicago, that kid should be prepared," insists Jay.

"Yeah, I agree with you. But that's not the only reason why I called, by the way," Will changes the topic. Jay knows from his tone that Will is up to something. Something that usually ends up with a volunteer-Jay.

"What do you want now?" sighs Jay.

"Nat and I invited the person who helped Owen to our place for dinner tomorrow. We want you to come," Will proposes his idea.

"Why should I?" Jay protests the idea.

"Don't you want to meet the person who saved Owen? Show them your gratitude for saving your precious nephew?" Will coaxes his stubborn brother.

"Isn't that supposed to be the parents' job? I'm just the Fun Uncle!" grumbles Jay.

"Then you should join the fun dinner with us tomorrow. Or you will get demoted!” Will threatens further.

"Ergh, okay, fine. No promises, though. If an urgent case comes up, I cannot make it to the fun dinner," Jay finally yields, even with his sarcasm.

"Noted. Please bear in mind, if you deliberately avoid our dinner invitation, your title would be demoted to Lame Uncle," Will reminds Jay.

"Even then, I'm still the coolest," Jay mutters before he hangs up the call.

Before long, Jay's phone buzzes with a text message from his brother.

Put it in your calendar, Fun Uncle. Tomorrow, 7 PM, dinner at our place.

Jay leaves the message unanswered. But he schedules it on his calendar, nonetheless. Whatever the reason is, Jay always loves to visit his sweet nephew.

◢◤

The cab stops in front of a lovely house. You open the text message from Dr. Halstead to recheck the address. Stepping out of the cab, you walk to the front door and knock.

You thought about bringing wine for dinner. But you're not sure that would be a good idea with Owen here. Instead, you have a box of chocolate as a gift to your host. For a second, you wonder, what if somebody is allergic to chocolate? Before you could overreact, the door is open.

"Hi, Y/N!! So glad you could make it. Come in, come in!" Dr. Manning greets you at the door.

"Hi, Dr. Manning. Thanks for inviting me to your house. You have a gorgeous house," You compliment your host.

"Oh, thank you. But please, call me Natalie. I am not wearing a lab coat or a scrub now,"

Further inside the house, you see Dr. Halstead is setting up the dinner table while Owen is sitting on one of the chairs.

"Hi, Y/N! Welcome!" Dr. Halstead welcomes you.

"Good evening, Dr. Halstead," You return with a smile.

"Yeah, that's not going to work for tonight. Please, just call me Will," He orders you.

"Hey bud, do you remember Miss Y/N? She helped you at the pool a few days ago?" Will asks Owen.

Owen remembers the lady from the pool. But he's still embarrassed and sullenly looks down, "I remember,"

You approach Owen slowly, "Hi Owen, my name is Y/N. Nice to see you again,"

Owen is still avoiding your gaze.

So you continue to talk to him, "Oh, here, I have a box of chocolate for you and your family," You pass the paper bag to Owen.

"I hope you like it. My best friend and I always eat chocolate when we were having a bad day. Then our day gets better," You say to Owen, attempting to make him feels better.

"Really?" Owen eyes you curiously.

"Oh yeah, totally," You beam at him.

"Thank you," Owen looks up and pleads to his mother, "Can we have it now, Mom?"

"Let's have it after dinner, hon. There is a cheesy lasagna warming in the oven, right?" Natalie tries to distract Owen from having dessert before dinner. You cringe at your not-so-great idea and mouth an apology to her. She graciously waves it off.

"Oh yeah! Miss Y/N, you must try the lasagna. It is so yummy because I helped Mom make it," brags Owen.

"I cannot wait! Is there anything I can help with for dinner?" You offer.

"No, everything is almost done. Owen, could you please show Miss Y/N where the bathroom is, so she could wash her hand?" Natalie prompts, "and then we can start eating when you come back,"

"Okay. Let's go, Miss Y/N. I could also show you my shark toothbrush!" Owen pulls you toward the bathroom.

When you come back, there are four plates set on the table of five settings.

"Is Dr. Rhodes coming for dinner?" You politely gesture the fifth setting.

"Connor? No," Will is confused for a second. "Oh, it's for my brother. I asked him to come, but Jay usually got caught up at work and came late," He further reveals.

"Ah, the cop brother," You nod in understanding, "That's good. I was worried you guys were too trusting of a stranger,"

The doctors let out a chuckle at your thought, "Yes, my brother is a cop,"

"Should we wait for him?" You offer to hold the dinner off.

"No, we can start now," Natalie objects, "If we wait until Jay arrives, the food's going to be cold,"

You take a bite and praise Owen on his lasagna, "It tastes great, Owen! You are a good help to your mom,"

Owen is too busy with his noodle. He only responds with a big grin. Shortly, you hear knocks on the door.

"That would be Jay," Will gets up from his chair to the door, and Natalie stands up to pull one portion of lasagna out of the oven.

"Have you met Uncle Jay, Miss Y/N?" Owen asks you.

"No, sweetie. I have not," You shake your head.

"Uncle Jay is super fun. I like to play with him. We can play together, Miss Y/N. You are fun too. Because you bring chocolate," Owen explains his logic to you.

Trying not to laugh, you reply, "Well, thank you, Owen. But I think you are the most fun of all, right?"

Will soon comes back in, followed by an extremely handsome man in a fitting black t-shirt and grey jeans. You notice that the man is carrying a gun on his hips and a badge snugged on his belt. He glances at you before whispering something to Will. When the man steps to the other side of the house, you cannot help but stare at his back.

The screeching sound of Will's chair jerks you away from your staring. You keep your gaze down to your plate, hoping Will didn't catch you staring at his brother. You don't see it, but the doctors are exchanging smirks across the dining table. They definitely caught you out.

When Jay returns to the dining table, he ruffles Owen's hair before finding his seat next to you.

"You must be the guest of honor for tonight?" Jay extends his hand to you, "Jay Halstead, Will's brother,"

You clean your hand with the napkins before you take Jay's hand. "Y/N Y/LN. Nice to meet you. Not sure about being the guest of honor, though," You throw a small smile.

"Well, I heard you rescued Owen, so I think it's fair to make you an honorable guest," declares Jay.

"How are you doing, bud? I was worried when Will told me," Jay checks his nephew.

"It was scary, Uncle Jay. My friends and I were playing. I chased David, and Noah was chasing me. Then suddenly, I got pulled down! I was afraid when the water entered my nose, and then I cannot breathe!" Owen recites his experience.

"Oh, bud. It must have been scary. You have to be more careful next time. I know playing is fun, but you have to keep paying attention to your surrounding," Jay patiently advises Owen. Owen nods his reply, looking solemn in his round eyes.

"It was very fortunate that Y/N was nearby when it happened," Will adds to the conversation, "Do you often swimming there, Y/N?"

"Yeah, maybe two or three times a week. I usually come early morning or an hour before closing," You admit.

"Wow, are you preparing for a competition or something?" Jay baffles.

You laugh at Jay's comment, "No, it was not like that. I need regular exercise for my legs. My physical therapist recommends swimming,"

"It's the left one, isn’t it?" infers Natalie.

"Yeah, how do you know?" Feeling surprised by her question, your tone was slightly accusing, too. Did she somehow able to look at your medical record?

"When you came to the hospital that day..." Natalie starts to say.

"Ah, I should have known you noticed it," You are relieved to be wrong this time. "Your patients must have hard times lying to you, Dr. Manning,"

You quickly distract her before she can say anything more about your injury. Experiencing it was already hard. Talking about it was even more difficult.

"Well, my patients are mostly under 12 years old. They rarely lie. However, their parents are whole different stories," Natalie tells you.

"Personally, I like it when I can prove to my patients that they were lying," Will adds his opinion.

"That because your ED is attracting lots of nutters," cracks Jay.

"You are also a frequent flyer on my ED, Jay. It means you are one of the nutters," Will points out.

Laughing at their banter, you polish your meal while listening to the family conversation at the table.

"I finished my meal, Mommy. Can I have Miss Y/N chocolate, now?" begs Owen to his mother.

"Let's wait for Uncle Jay to finish his dinner, then we can have the chocolate together," replies Natalie.

"You have chocolates, little man? Gonna share it with me, right?" demands Jay to Owen.

"Miss Y/N brings lots of chocolate. She said she ate lots of chocolate with her best friend. You are my friend, Uncle Jay. So I will share it with you," states Owen. In agreement, Jay offers his bump to Owen.

God, this man is unbelievable. Good looking, stable job, and great with children. What would be his flaw? You ask yourself.

When Jay finishes his dinner, Owen drags him to the living room. You offer to help with the dishes. But Natalie refused your help.

"No, no. You go sit with Owen and Jay in the living room. Between Will and I, we can tackle these dishes in no time,"

So you go to the living room and find Jay sitting on the floor. Owen is sitting on the couch right in front of Jay, with your gift bag in his lap. He carefully opens the bag with Jay's assistance.

"This looks fancy. Belgian Pralines?" comments Jay once they got the box out of the bag.

"Nah, It was not that fancy. I only picked it because it tasted similar to what we have back home," You explain.

True to her words, Natalie and Will come to the living room shortly.

"Owen, you can only have one piece of chocolate for tonight, okay? We can save the rest for tomorrow," Natalie dictates to his son.

"But, Mommy..." whines Owen to his mother.

Natalie is not deterred by his son's whine, "One or none,"

"I will take the deal if I were you, bud," Jay fake-whispers to his nephew.

Grumbling his agreement, Owen turns to the box on his lap, meticulously inspecting it.

"I cannot choose! They all look delicious!" He cries his frustration.

"You can try the round one. It has caramel filling," You suggest to Owen. "Or if you like coconut, the triangle one got sweet coconut in it,"

"It got coconut in there??" Owen gasps in wonder. "I will take that. I like coconut, and the triangle is my favorite shape,"

Owen decisively picks his chocolate. The first bites into the triangle made his eyes go wide, astonished. Owen quickly takes another bite. Natalie, Will, and Jay then follow Owen, taking each different piece from the box.

"Ooh, I got one with orange filling. Hmm, interesting..." Natalie notes her pick.

"I expected the caramel filling would be too sweet. But it's not that sweet," remarks Will after his bite.

Jay, though, doesn't express anything about his chocolate.

"What about yours, Uncle Jay? What flavor is it?" Owen asks curiously.

"I got dark chocolate,"

"Did it taste good?"

"It's bitter," Jay informs his little inquisitor.

Owen pulls a face, "You can finish all the bitter chocolate, Uncle Jay. I only pick the sweet one,"

Jay grins at his nephew, "Thanks, bud!"

"Come on, Owen. You need to take a bath, brush your teeth, and get ready for bed," Natalie instructs his son.

Owen is thinking about negotiating her orders. He still wants to play with his uncle and their guest.

Before he could say anything, Natalie disrupts him, "Or Uncle Jay will take all the chocolate home with him,"

"Nope, I'm going now," Owen jumps from the couch and goes to the bathroom, followed by his mother.

Will also stands up from the couch, "You guys want anything to drink? Coffee, tea? Wine, maybe?"

Even though you want to take the wine, you decline his offer, "No, I'm good, thanks,"

"Just water for me, bro," Jay calls out to his brother as he moves to sit next to you.

"Which one is your favorite?" He asks you, referring to the chocolate box.

"From that box? Dark chocolate," You tell him.

"You got another favorite?" Jay seems intrigued.

"The liquor-filled ones," You sheepishly confess to him.

Jay raises his eyebrow, "That sounds fantastic,"

You laugh at his remark, "Yeah, they are good. Especially the one with Amaretto,"

"Hmm, I can imagine," Jay hums as he picks another dark chocolate from Owen's box.

Worried that Jay would take you as an alcoholic, you make another note, "But, dark chocolate is sort of aphrodisiac, though,"

"Yeah, I can see that. It's just purely good," Jay agrees with your choice.

"Pair them with red wine will make it even better. A box of dark chocolate, a nice red wine, spends it with a good company, guarantee you will have a good night,"

God, was it too suggestive?? You are internally freaking out.

"Actually, that would be nice,"

Jay gazes at you for a moment and then leans in your direction. Like a different pole of a magnet, you pull in closer. You can see light dust of freckles on Jay’s nose and wonder if his lips would taste like dark chocolate.

“Here you go, bro!” Suddenly, Will comes back with two bottles of water in his right hand and a cup of tea in his left. You abruptly move away from Jay, eyes down to the floor, embarrassed.

Jay takes one of the water bottles and gives an unimpressed look to his brother. Will grins cheekily in reply.

“Here’s water for you, Y/N. In case you get thirsty,” Will teases you.

You can feel your face turned red, “Thanks, Dr. Halstead,” Putting the title back to his name as you try to be cool about it.

There is an awkward silence for a moment before Will breaks it, “I think I have yet to ask you, but what do you do, Y/N?”

Relieved by the change of topic, you happily answer, "I work for a record label company,"

"What does one do at a record label company?" Jay asks you curiously.

"Lots of things. But mostly I produce music and write songs," You give a short detail.

“So you’re a musician?” Will points out.

"Yes. But not a performing one? If that makes any sense?" You try to explain your situation.

"I do not really enjoy performing in front of live audiences. I'm not comfortable facing a big crowd," You pause to see if Will and Jay understood.

"You got stage fright?" Jay guesses.

You throw a bashful smile, "A big one. The best I can do is performing on the radio. I used to work as a DJ on a late-night radio show," You begin to open up.

"On that show, I got to play whatever music I want, got to talk to people I'd like. There weren't many people listening to late-night radio, you know? So the station let me do whatever I want," You giggle through your story.

"I bet most of them would be late-shift workers, like we do," Will reckons.

"Yup. And fellow insomniacs," The three of you let out a laugh.

"At that time, I also played music from many unsigned, aspiring musicians. Sometimes, mine too, if I feel confident about it. Those were the only time I dare to "perform" if we can call it that way,"

"What kind of music are you producing now? Anything I might know?" Will explores, "Jay won't know anything, though. The last record he listened to was probably Ms. Jackson by Outkast,"

Vehemently, Jay protests, "Hey!"

You laugh at their spite. You are an only child, but your best friend is only two years younger than you. Most of the time, you banter like this too.

"It is a good song, though," You tell Will on Jay's behalf.

"Am I right??" Jay points it out to Will.

"Yeah, it is. But it's like two decades ago, man!" Will argues, "C'mon, Y/N, help me up here. You need to tell Jay here about songs you produced. He might wanna listen to new songs if you wrote them,"

You immediately blush from that playful tease from Will.

"I'm not sure you would be into it. Mostly I made dance music. Electronics and others," You clumsily stutter, "But recently, I'm working on a music podcast where I can play and tinker lots of music, not exclusively of dance music,"

Your eyes darted between these two men, "I'm sorry, it's so presumptuous of me. I didn't mean that you have to listen to it,"

The brothers quickly negate your apology.

"No, no, not at all," Jay shakes his head.

“Totally going to check that podcast out,” Will declares, "Where can I find it?"

But before you can answer, Owen runs to the living room in his pajamas.

“Ah, ready for bedtime?” Will stands up from his seat.

Standing in front of you, Owen opens his arms for a hug, “Thank you for the chocolate, Miss Y/N,”

“You are welcome, Owen. I hope it helps you feel better,” You hug him back.

“Yes, but I feel much better if I can have one more?” He dubiously looks at his mom.

“You would also feel better after a good night's sleep. So enough chocolate for tonight,” Natalie amusedly retorts.

Owen moves to hug Jay, “Good night, Uncle Jay. Remember, only the bitter chocolates for you,”

Chuckling, Jay rubs Owen's back gently, “I will not touch your sweet chocolate, I promise. Sleep well, bud,”

After the parents come back from putting Owen down to bed, you consider that it’s probably a good time to leave.

“I think I better go home now. You guys must be tired after a long day at work,” You rise from your seat.

“Oh no, you don’t have to leave now. I was going to open a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc,” Natalie persuades you to stay.

All of a sudden, you hear a ping from a phone. Follow by another ping. And another ping. Will pulls out the phone from his pocket and momentarily reads it, “Med needs me to come in,”

“Guess the party’s over,” Jay quips. Natalie let out a conceded sigh.

You pull out your phone, try to order rideshare to go home.

“I can drive you home,” offers Jay when he catches a glimpse of your phone screen.

“Ah, I don’t want to impose,” You try to resist.

Jay peeks at your phone again to see your address. “No, you won’t. It's on my way back anyway,”

“You sure?” You check again.

“Absolutely,” answers Jay confidently.

“Okay, then. Thank you,” You flash a smile to Jay that instantly mirrors back.

“Let me just quickly get my things,” Jay goes to grab his gun and badge.

When he comes back, Natalie and Will hug Y/N goodbye at the door.

“Thanks again for inviting me to dinner. It was wonderful,” You say to the doctors.

“Yes, it was! We should do it again sometimes. Maybe make it a picnic at the park when the weather is good,” Natalie recommends.

“Yeah, maybe by the lake? We could go swimming,” You concur with humor.

Natalie rolls her eyes while Will and Jay are sniggering. You share good night wishes with the hosts before leaving the house.

Next on this fic : Part 3

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